Ben put a hand on his shoulder and could feel his dreadful pain. ‘I can’t bring her back,’ he said softly. ‘I wish I could, but I can’t, and I’m truly sorry. But I intend to make it right, for her sake, and for yours, as much as something like this can be made right.’

‘By doing what?’

‘By making sure that Nazim al-Kassar never hurts another innocent person. This stops, now.’

‘I want to help. Let me team up with you.’

Ben shook his head. ‘You don’t even know me.’

‘But I can tell you’re the kind of guy who can handle trouble.’

‘And you’re not. Not this sort of trouble.’

‘I know how to pull a trigger. I’ve done it once, I can do it again.’

‘No offence, but it’s a little different when they’re shooting back at you.’

‘What the hell more have I got to lose? You think I’m scared of getting killed?’

‘Of course you are,’ Ben said. ‘So am I. Only a lunatic isn’t scared of getting killed. But whether you are or not, it doesn’t affect the outcome. And if something happens to you I can’t have that on my conscience too.’

‘Then what am I supposed to do? If everyone thinks I killed Romy, that means the cops are after me, right? So I can’t go home.’

‘You’ve been a fugitive before,’ Ben said. ‘You know what to do.’

‘I have no money, nothing. I have no idea where to go.’

‘I can help you get out of the city,’ Ben said. ‘This place isn’t getting any safer for anyone.’

Chapter 22

Ben drove Michel Yassa to the RER rail station in nearby Bondy, gave him all the cash he had so he could take a train as far away as possible and have some living expenses once he got there, then wished him good luck and drove off.

Michel was on his own now. The best Ben could do for the guy was catch the real killer before the police caught up with him and shot him full of holes.

Ben was driving away from the station, still feeling exhausted and depressed after their painful conversation, thinking about what he’d learned and what to do next, when he got a call.

He’d been expecting either Ken Keegan to phone him, finally passing on a contact for Tyler Roth, or Thierry, preferably to say he was finished working on the audio and you could now hear every word of the recording as clear as a bell. But the call was from neither of them. The phone ringing was Romy Juneau’s.

Ben pulled into the side of the road and answered.