Speak Softly My Love Read Online Free PDF

bother him, and sort of let him have his
weekends…”
    “ Ah. What’s wrong with the child?”
    “ Polio. The kid’s about twelve.”
    “ Oh. Ah. Not good. And you’re what, on night shift or working
late?”
    “ Shit. Something like that.” He didn’t even hardly know
himself these days, but he’d heard through the grapevine that
Gilles and his crew didn’t have anything really interesting going
on—just wrapping up some big ones, but mostly routine, easy stuff
coming in the front door in recent days.
    A
stabbing here, a shooting there, a strangling somewhere else. The
criminals were being really dumb these days. It was a phenomenon,
it seemed to come and go in waves. It was all too easy
sometimes.
    Girard
thought he’d do a little fishing. There were times you needed to
ask a favour and everyone knew Maintenon was a pretty good
guy.
    “ Yes. I see the problem. Okay, let me think about
it.”
    “ The Inspector will be in the office at about nine or
so.”
    “ Thank you. I will definitely speak to him.”
    The
sergeant rang off.
    Gilles
wandered back to his armchair. It seemed like a long shot. It was
definitely one weird coincidence.
    Considering the pictures he had examined, and they had the
exact same pictures in Lyon, it just seemed so unlikely.
Unfortunately, by this time the gears in his brain had begun to
turn over.
     
    ***
     
    First
thing Monday morning, Gilles called Inspector David. A mental
picture of the fellow’s long sideburns and walrus mustache were a
reminder that the old guard still hung on in certain quarters. In
the event, David was happy enough to give it up, having heard from
Girard already.
    “ Yes, Gilles, and thank you.” Inspector David was getting up
there in years and Gilles wondered at his health or when his
retirement date might roll around.
    Gilles
wasn’t looking forward to his own particularly, but other men felt
differently. It was true that people got tired after a
while.
    “ It’s my youngest boy.” The Inspector had been a widower, but
he remarried, his wife bearing young Frederic in her forty-fourth
year.
    An
impressive feat. One had to admit. Gilles was a little preoccupied,
or he might have asked more questions.
    “ We’ll be more than happy, Inspector David.”
    The
Inspector gave him a name in Lyon and Gilles jotted it
down.
    Roche.
Sergeant. He took down the telephone number.
    “ Don’t worry about Girard. He’s a good one, and he’s happy to
be working with you on this one. He’s like you, Gilles.” The
Inspector’s voice took on a more animated note. “He needs plenty of
stimulation.”
    There
was a quick and dry little chuckle and then David rang
off.
    Gilles
hung up the receiver and looked up at an expectant circle of bright
and eager faces.
    “ Right. I have court and I’d better get going.”
    He
stabbed Tailler with a look. He tore off the top sheet from his
notebook and handed it to him.
    “ What’s your first move?”
    “ Call them and get copies of their incident reports. Send them
everything we’ve got.”
    “ Two.”
    “ Ah. I wouldn’t mind talking to the Godeffroy woman. Now that
it’s our case. After that—maybe take a quick train ride to
Lyon…?”
    Gilles
stood. His briefcase had been carefully packed, to the extent of
having a sandwich and an apple in there. It could be a long day,
but he’d seen plenty of those and it was unavoidable.
    Monsieur
Brevard had a right to a speedy trial, among other things. He was
also pretty much a goner.
    “ Fair enough.” With a nod, he threw his raincoat over his
shoulder and then he was gone, leaving a slightly impressed Emile
Tailler to brazen it out.
    He’d
been there long enough and he really ought to be able to handle it,
thought Andre Levain.
    He had
one or two rather pressing matters of his own. Levain was hoping to
get some news back on a fellow who had run off to Martinique in the
hopes of avoiding questioning in a troubling little shooting
incident.
    Either
the local