He popped his feet back up on the desk. “Sure.”

“To be honest, I’m only good at one thing really.”

“What’s that?”

“Seek and destroy. I’m not much of a cultivator. I was never the guy to go in last and do the first-aid, more like the one to go in first and do the damage. I let other people clean it up.”

The beard gave a short, uneasy laugh. Martaud walked in with the bald cop, Grouse, following. Caro lurked in the back. Martaud said, “Those are fascinating attributes, Monsieur Keeler, but I fail to see how they would be usefully applied here in Alencourt.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“I already am.” Martaud appraised me. “Just curious, where were you yesterday afternoon?”

“With a friend.”

“The friend have a name?”

“None of your business.”

Martaud flipped a look to the beard and he started collecting the burner phones from the table. I counted five or six of them.

“I thought you were leaving Alencourt. Why are you still here?”

“I met someone.”

Martaud’s eyes had gone from gunmetal gray to pale gray, the way skies can change on a windy ocean day. “You were in the military, Keeler. Maybe you’ve read the various theories about friends and enemies.”

Caro had kept in step with Martaud, like a giant shadow.

I said, “I was never much of a reader. But I’ll tell you something for free. I’ve worked with the best investigative units in the world, and they don’t look like you. Not a bit.”

“What do they look like?”

“They look busy.”

“We have our own methods in France. We don’t compare ourselves to other forces.”

“Yeah sure.”

Martaud said, “Well anyway. The theory of friends and enemies is simple. Either you’re a friend or an enemy.”

It was meant to sound profound but fell flat because just at the end of her sentence Nazari walked into the squad room. All eyes shifted. She was wearing her blue Municipal Police uniform and ball cap, along with a Sig-Pro pistol holstered at the hip. She came up behind me. I didn’t turn away from the investigators. Nazari said, “I was looking for you, Tom. Let’s go downstairs.”

Grouse, the bald cop said, “Oh, now it’s Tom.” His eyes gleamed and he made an obscene gesture.

I spoke to Martaud. “You might want to keep this one on a leash, for his own health and safety.” I didn’t look at Grouse, but I knew that he was chomping at the bit.

Martaud said, “Aggressive energy is expected and encouraged in an operational unit.”

Nazari stepped up. “What’s going on?”

I said, “Nothing, we were just getting reacquainted.” I turned to Grouse. “And I’m looking forward to the next reunion.”