Page 98 of A Death in Cornwall

“And if you had known?”

“I wouldn’t have let you anywhere near her. She’s scared me to death on more than one occasion.”

They were standing before the French doors in the sitting room of the villa. Ingrid’s spandex running clothes were soaked with the rain that was now pelting the terrace. The laricio pine trees were writhing in the gusty wind.

“How is it possible that she knows about my childhood?”

“You’re asking me to explain the inexplicable.”

“She knows about our plans for tomorrow night, by the way. My God, she even knows the code for the bloody safe.”

“I guess we won’t need that rare-earth magnet and automatic dialer, after all.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Probably,” agreed Gabriel. “But she’s never wrong.”

A blast of wind rattled the French doors. “Maybe we should wait another day,” said Ingrid.

“The rain is forecast to end around eight o’clock. By midnight the skies will be clear.”

“What about the sea state?”

“Two to three.”

“Is that all?” Ingrid peered into the kitchen. Philippe Lambert was monitoring the late-afternoon activity at Harris Weber, and René Monjean was watching a football match on the television. “Where’s your friend?”

“Climbing the highest mountain on Corsica.”

“In weather like this?”

“It amuses him.”

“It’s funny,” said Ingrid, “but he doesn’t look like a business consultant to me.”

“That’s because he isn’t one.”

“Is he coming with us to Monaco?”

“He says not.”

“What a shame.” Ingrid watched the rain in silence for a moment. “There was a young girl in the village. The one who brought me the note from the signadora.”

“Danielle?”

“How did you know?”

“We’ve met,” said Gabriel.

“Do you remember what she looks like?”

“The last time I saw her, she bore a shocking resemblance to my daughter.”

“Really? But tell me something, Mr. Allon. What does your daughter look like?”

***

They spent the remainder of the afternoon working their way through the documents that Philippe Lambert had stolen from his former employer. In all, Harris Weber & Company had given birth to more than twenty-five thousand anonymous offshore shell corporations. Most had been created at the behest of wealth managers or the private banking divisions of major financial services firms. Harris Weber used code names to conceal the identities of its partners, all of whom received enormous finders’ fees and kickbacks in return for their business. Its largest customers were called Bluebird and Heron, which Lambert believed were probably Credit Suisse and Société Générale. A company designated Nightingale had asked Harris Weber to create and manage more than five thousand shell companies. Lambert suspected the firm was British.

---