Page 15 of Shadow of Doubt

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Brunelle went on, piecing it together. “So, three suits in the living room, a couple more milling around downstairs, and two operators from Action Division. Obviously, DGSE doesn’t think this is some random act of violence.

“That’s why you’re here,” she said. “It takes a thief to catch a thief and all that. You guys are notunfamiliarwith assassinations. You’re here looking to rule it in or rule it out, right? How am I doing so far?”

The men remained silent.

“What exactly did Jadot do for the DGSE?”

More silence.

“Judging by the photos in the hallway, he wasn’t some lowly paper pusher in the Paris office. He got around. Pretty global. What kind of stuff was he working on?”

No reply.

“Who do you think might want him dead? Any clue? No? Nothing at all? C’mon, guys,” she chided, shaking her head. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to work. Help me out here.”

The men were a brick wall.

Gibert could see this was going nowhere.

Shaking their hands, he chatted with them for a brief moment and then sent the operatives on their way. “I’ll let you know if anything develops,” he said as they exited the kitchen and headed for the front door.

“Great talking with you guys,” Brunelle quipped.

Once the men were down the hall, she rounded on Gibert. “What the actual fuck, Vincent? The scene hasn’t even been processed yet. Now thanks to your pals, we’ve got extra hair, fibers, and God-knows-what-else all over the place. Is this how la Crim rolls these days?”

“Don’t bust my balls, Karine.”

“Don’t give me a reason to.”

“Fine.”

“No, it’s notfine,” she replied. “What were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking? I was thinking that whatever this is, it runs straight through DGSE. Look around. If this was a robbery, how come nothing’s missing? They didn’t even take his gun. Do you know what that would fetch on the black market?”

“How do you know that’s Jadot’s gun and not the killer’s?”

“We ran the serial number. He also has about five hundred euros, cash, in his left front pocket. They didn’t take his phone either.”

“Where is it?”

Gibert pulled a clear plastic evidence bag from his jacket pocket and showed it to her. “I’m going to take it back to Trente-Six,” he said, using the slang term for his office, which corresponded to its address at 36 quai des Orf èvres, “and have my people go to work on it right away.”

“And anything you come up with, you’re going to share it with me andonlyme, correct? No more of this old-boy network with the DGSE. You need to respect the chain of command.”

“What could it hurt? Why not give them a taste?”

“Because they’re not permitted to work inside France. They workexteriorof the country—that’s literally theEin DGSE.”

“I know what theEstands for,” he said, pivoting to her animosity. “Are you still angry with me? Is that what this is all about?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Vincent.”

“I’m just saying, if you don’t want to work with me, if you can’t put our personal stuff aside, you can hand this case off to someone else.”

“First,” Brunelle replied, “anything personal between us is in the past. And—”

“Are you sure?”

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