The Babylon Idol. Scott Mariani

not here. He’s gone.’

      ‘Gone?’ For Luc to have gone home before midnight would have been a record. For him to have left his job would have been unthinkable. ‘Gone where?’

      The second silence on the line was heavier than the first, and it brought a chill that went down Ben’s spine and told him something was wrong.

      ‘If you know Commissioner Luc Simon,’ the voice said, laden with sadness, ‘then I regret to inform you that he is dead.’

       Chapter 11

      Ben couldn’t reply for several seconds. He wouldn’t have called Luc Simon a close friend, but they’d known each other a long time and collaborated on more than one occasion. The news hit him deep and low in the stomach. Finally he was able to say, ‘When this did happen?’

      ‘The commissaire didn’t come into work today, and didn’t respond to phone calls. As you know, he lived alone. We thought perhaps he had been taken ill. When agents visited his home this afternoon, they found him in his bathroom. He was stabbed to death in the shower, either this morning or last night, we don’t yet know for sure. Nobody knows anything,’ he added. ‘It’s chaos here. We’re putting together a press release, but so far—’

      ‘You have no idea who did it,’ Ben finished for him.

      ‘That is all I can tell you,’ the voice said. ‘I’m sorry.’

      Ben muttered a word or two of thanks, then put the phone down. He was wishing he’d brought the bottle from the house, to help chase away the visions of a slashed shower curtain and blood-spattered tiles that were crowding into his mind. But there was no time to dwell over his shock and sorrow. Because Severini’s warning letter had just come back into sharp focus. Ben no longer cared if the guy was crazy or not. This was happening.

      ‘Roberta,’ he said out loud. His arm shot across the desk to snatch up the phone again.

      When Ben had first met her, she’d been a struggling independent research scientist living in Paris. In the wake of the Gladius Domini affair she’d relocated to Ottawa and Dr Roberta Ryder had become Dr Roberta Kaminski, to protect her identity, and had slipped out of Ben’s life until she’d needed his help once again. The last time he’d seen her had been an emotional farewell in Indonesia, and even though he still had her mobile number he’d always avoided calling it. He knew why that was. The chemistry between them had been one of the factors behind his relationship breakdown with Brooke.

      Ontario was six hours behind, making it afternoon there. ‘Come on,’ he muttered as the dial tone burred in his ear. Then his heart jumped as he heard her voice. ‘Roberta?’

      ‘Who is this?’ She sounded as if she was walking somewhere briskly. Always in a hurry, that Roberta Ryder.

      ‘It’s me.’

      ‘Ben? What—?’

      ‘Where are you?’

      ‘Carleton. Where else?’ Carleton University in Ottawa was where she taught now. ‘Freezing my ass off in the snow outside the main science block, about to head across campus to the cafeteria for a badly needed coffee before my next class begins in exactly twenty-four minutes’ time. If you really needed to know, which frankly is a mystery to me. But then, you always were one of life’s great mysteries, weren’t you?’

      ‘Are you okay?’

      ‘You sound weird, Ben. And why do I get the feeling this isn’t purely a social call?’

      ‘Just tell me. Are you okay?’

      ‘I was doing great, until a moment ago,’ she replied acerbically, and he could just see her, halted in the snow, one hand on her hip, one eyebrow raised, in that questioning way of hers. ‘Living the dream. Single, free and contented, and I gave up long ago waiting for you to call me. Yet now here you are. What’s the matter?’

      ‘I don’t have time to explain,’ he said. ‘Listen to me. You need to get out of town, right this minute.’

      ‘Wow. Not a word from you for months and years, now this. You really know how to lay the charm on a lady, Hope. In the desert of life, you are my mirage.’

      ‘I’m serious. Something’s happening. Don’t ask me what, because I don’t know. Just get away from there immediately.’

      ‘Are you nuts? Just like that? Get out of town, no explanations, no nothing? I have classes. I have a job, Ben.’

      ‘Never mind all that. You might not be safe and I need you to do as I say.’

      ‘Why – am – I – not – safe?’

      ‘Someone tried to get me. They got Luc Simon.’

      ‘The Paris cop? What do you mean, got?’

      ‘He wasn’t a Paris cop any more. And I mean, they killed him. They could be coming after you next.’

      Her tone changed to one of shock. ‘What the hell’s happening? Are you okay?’

      ‘It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.’

      ‘I can look after myself,’ she said defiantly. ‘Remember?’

      ‘So can Jeff Dekker. But he’s lying in the hospital with a bullet hole in his chest, meant for me. These people aren’t messing about. How much money have you got on you?’

      ‘About seventy bucks. You are officially freaking me out right now. Is Jeff going to be all right? Who’s doing this?’

      ‘No more questions, Roberta,’ Ben interrupted. ‘Please, just do as I say. Don’t go back to your apartment. Grab all the cash you can from the campus ATM and jump on a bus. Keep changing buses, taxis, whatever you have to do to cover your trail. You see anyone following you, anything out of the ordinary, go straight to the police.’

      ‘Following me?’

      ‘Keep your eyes open. Head north into the mountains, where nobody can find you. Book into a hotel, cash, using a different name, and don’t do anything until I call you again. Promise me you’ll do that.’

      ‘Ben, I—’

      ‘I mean it, Roberta. I know how it sounds. But you have to promise me. I can’t have anything happen to you.’

      ‘Does this mean you love me after all?’

      ‘No jokes. Do it.’

      ‘Who said I was joking?’

      ‘I’ll be in touch.’

      ‘I’ve heard that one before. I can’t wait.’

      ‘Will you do it?’

      ‘YES! All right! I must be even crazier than I thought, but I’ll do it. This is going to cost you big-time, Ben Hope. Of all the goddamn lunatic things I ever did for y—’

      He cut her off by ending the call. He could only pray she’d take him seriously. What was it with red-headed women? Without a doubt, she was the most stubborn, headstrong person he’d ever known. That was, besides himself.

      The next name on Ben’s list was Father Pascal Cambriel. Ben had checked in on him now and then since the Gladius Domini business, mostly to ask after his health. Now in his mid-seventies, the old priest still lived in the same humble cottage in the little village of Saint-Jean in the south of France. A little slower, more dependent on his walking stick, but still active and enjoying his simple rural existence – feeding his chickens, tending to his little vineyard, kindling his fire and reading the Bible by candlelight every night as he puffed on his old briar pipe and indulged in more of his homemade wine than perhaps was good for him. Life didn’t change a great deal for Pascal Cambriel, including his tendency