She was good. Her expression didn’t change, just the faintest hiss escaped through her teeth. ‘What did you find?’

‘Nothing pleasant, I’m afraid, Eloïse.’ He had thought about not telling her, but she deserved to know. ‘We dug around in the garden and around the shed, and in the end we unearthed something of interest.’

‘What?’

‘A pair of bull’s horns. They’d been hacked off very roughly.’

She didn’t flinch. ‘Goliath’s?’

‘It seems probable. We will have to unearth his head to make sure.’

She nodded. Her neck stiff. ‘You must tell Papa.’

‘Of course.’

He didn’t mention the dried blood on the horns, indicating that the poor creature may have still been alive when they were removed.

‘You think it was this Communist cell that committed the crime?’

‘It looks that way but we need proof. I will bring Isaac in for questioning again.’

‘But he told me the city-dwellers of Marseille would be too frightened to face a bull.’

‘That’s probably true.’

‘So who would have the nerve to enter a field with a black bull like Goliath?’ She paused and the sound of chatter buzzed in their ears. He wanted her to come to it herself.

‘Isaac,’ she whispered.

‘It’s possible. Again, we have no proof yet.’

‘No, I don’t believe it. Not Isaac. He would never do that. But we both know that there are many farmworkers who went off to earn more money in the factories and docks of Marseille, so they would have had experience of how to take on a bull.’

‘It’s possible.’

‘Did you find anything else?’

‘Tyre tracks. If we can trace Piquet’s motorcycle, if we can make a match . . .’

‘So many ifs. He could be anywhere.’

Léon tightened his grip on her arm. He could see the mayor heading their way. ‘You have set yourself up here,’ he murmured, ‘as bait. In full view of anyone who might be interested.’

He saw her swallow, her long slender throat struggling as if something was caught there.

‘I thought Gilles Bertin might have been among the guests, but I can’t see him,’ she said.

Léon thought about what it took for her to come here, believing Bertin might turn up. ‘No, Eloïse. I contacted Colonel Masson and checked every name on the list. I would never let him anywhere near you. Or near André, for that matter.’

‘Louis is playing guard-dog at home today. I sat him down at the bottom of the stairs with Papa’s hunting rifle with instructions to shoot the balls off anyone who comes barging through the door.’

‘For God’s sake, Eloïse, you know that is—’

But he was interrupted by the smooth tones of the mayor. ‘Captain Roussel, I think we are in for a treat today,’ he said with a bonhomie that didn’t quite match his face. He switched to Eloïse. ‘Bonjour, Eloïse.’