Nazari had disappeared down a corridor in the back. I walked over to look into it. There were offices and an armory, a bathroom, and evidently the changing rooms. Maybe they had a holding cell. Nazari’s old partner, and new interim director of police stepped out of the bathroom, brushing his sleeves and fixing his cuffs. Bonnet saw me looking through the door. He smiled, beckoned me in.

He was wearing his old uniform, but with new shoulder stripes. As a military man I notice these things. The old ones were a couple of chevrons, the new ones were four stripes. “Keeler,” he extended a hand. I took it.

I was looking at the stripes and Bonnet shrugged. “Yes, strange.”

“I bet it’s a tough job. A lot of responsibility all of a sudden.”

“I won’t be able to fill Rigalle’s shoes, but I’ll try and do a decent enough job until they find someone to take over.”

“I’m sure you’ll do better than that.”

“We’ll see.” He pointed to a doorway. “I’ve got an office now, come and sit down.”

We went into the office. The desk was positioned facing the door, with three standard seats. On the wall behind were framed pictures of the dead police director with older and rounder fellows in uniform. Looked like someone had already boxed Rigalle’s stuff, outgoing. There were a couple of boxes with what looked like Bonnet’s stuff, incoming. Some of it already unpacked, like a line of silver plaques with his name on them. Looked like Bonnet had won the local tournament a couple years in a row. I said, “Tennis champ.”

He smiled. “I’ve had my day. Nothing too flashy, just the local tennis club. I suppose I’m what you call competitive.” He pointed to a plaque. “That one was doubles, I won it with Alain Rigalle. Couple of years ago. He was also a fierce competitor.” Bonnet’s eyes reddened and went moist. “Did you know that we were friends before I joined the force?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“He was a hell of a guy. Someone with true values who wanted to make a difference.”

“Did he?”

“Did he what?”

“Did he make a difference?”

Bonnet looked for a moment like he’d swallowed a ping pong ball. He coughed. “Of course he did. Every cop makes a difference every single day.” Standard response. He drew a tissue from a box on the desk and wiped his eyes. “Now we have our work cut out.” Bonnet looked up at me. “You’re here with Cecile?”

I didn’t say anything. He nodded. “She’s a good woman. Is she helping you with that problem at the Vaugeois house?”

“What problem is that?”