‘I was running through the film negative again in my head.’

‘And?’

‘And I think there was someone in the street crowd that I recognise.’

‘Who?’

‘The man from the hospital. The one with eyes of stone. Maurice Piquet.’

I might as well have stuck the knife in him there and then. I wished I could take the words back because his already pale skin turned paper-white. His hand encircled my wrist.

‘How am I going to save you, Eloïse?’ he whispered.

He released his hold and stared out of the window once more, but this time his gaze was directed towards the huge tamarisk tree with its dense mass of pink flowers that grew just beyond the courtyard. Was he expecting someone to be hiding behind its trunk?

‘André, do you mean that it was Piquet who was driving the van?’

There was no need to say which van. For us there was only one.

Without shifting his gaze he replied, ‘If Piquet is down here, you must go back to Paris.’

‘I’m not leaving you.’

Slowly, thoughtfully, he turned to face me. ‘Then one of us is going to have to kill Maurice Piquet.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Major Joel Dirke rode well. He rode like a man who was born in the saddle. I watched him come alive on horseback, the military stiffness washing out of his backbone with every kilometre we rode deeper into the Camargue wetlands.

I chose Tonnerre for him. He is one of Papa’s largest riding stallions, a fine proud animal of immense stamina, but picky about whom he likes on his back. He liked Joel Dirke. That was obvious from the start, and they made a good pairing, both handsome and intelligent and with a way of looking at you that made you think twice about cutting any corners.

‘I’m glad to see you ride Western-style down here,’ he said. ‘Like back home in Texas.’

‘It’s the only way to work livestock, using heavy-duty stirrups and both reins in one hand. Our horses,’ I patted the strong neck of my horse Achille, ‘are trained to neck-reining. He may be small but he has the heart of a lion when cutting a bull out of the herd, and can turn on a centime.’

‘Smart too, I can tell.’ He tapped the side of his head to emphasise the point. This was a man who valued intelligence even in his animals.

‘Oh yes, you don’t want to mess with these horses or they’ll have you on the ground before you can say merde.’