Ben reached the flat top of the boulder and reached down to grab the injured guy’s arm. He said in French, ‘You’re okay. I’ve got you.’ The guy was heavy. Solid stock, raised on milk and prime beef. With a lot of effort Ben managed to grapple and haul him up onto the boulder to safety, and out of sight of the police who were now appearing on the beach in greater numbers. Blood was leaking everywhere. Ben’s hands were red with it. He examined the gunshot wound. The bullet had gone right through the left shoulder, punching a smaller entry hole above the collar bone and a chunk of flesh ripped out where it had exited an inch from the shoulder blade. As far as Ben could tell, nothing was broken. It could have been a lot worse. But it wasn’t particularly good. He was going to need medical attention before long.

‘You got me,’ the young guy wheezed in resignation, too weak to put up any resistance. ‘So arrest me.’

This time around, Ben decided it wasn’t the smart play to impersonate an officer. ‘I’m not the police. What’s your name?’

Visibly relieved despite his pain, the young guy replied, ‘Axel. Axel Roux.’

‘Okay, Axel. I’m guessing you’re not one of the bad guys. Tell me who shot you and what the hell happened here.’

Axel coughed, and the movement made him screw up his face in agony. He gasped, ‘They killed Léon and Jean-Étienne.’ Tears of more than just physical pain leaked down his ruddy cheeks. ‘They killed Maurice and Suzette, too.’

‘Who killed them?’

‘I don’t know who they are. Scouts for some kind of fucking invasion force, or something. They came in on a boat. About fifteen of the bastards. Armed with machine guns.’

‘There are three bodies on the beach. Two white, one black.’

‘The black guy, he’s one of theirs. We shot him. But they started it.’

‘Who’s we? How many of you?’

‘Seven of us, four brothers and three cousins. We live at the farm, up the hill. Maurice and Suzette were our neighbours. Those fuckers murdered them and stole their Citroën.’

‘And you all decided to come down here and shoot it out with them like the O.K. Corral,’ Ben said. ‘Not a wise move.’