We took a taxi to our hotel in Santa Monica. I’d chosen that location for its proximity to the ocean, of course, but also because it was close to where we would be meeting Yves the next morning. Our hotel was beautiful, if a little faded. I wish I could put a Doors song in the background to this paragraph, but unfortunately literature is silent.

We went to our rooms, and Madeleine decided to go to bed straight away. It was only six in the evening, so I wanted to stay awake as long as I could to avoid feeling jet-lagged the next morning. I went for a walk; the air was so warm. I couldn’t believe we were already here. I stood facing an enormous red sun as it disappeared into the Pacific, but I still had the taste of Paris in my mouth.

1. 21. It looked like a city sprawled out on a lounger.

82

A little later, I lay on my bed. There’s a huge pleasure in feeling crushed by fatigue. Insomniacs must feel as if they are jet-lagged all the time. Just as my eyelids started to droop, my phone rang. I’d left a message with Valérie to tell her we’d arrived safely, but I hadn’t expected her to call me back so early (it was 6 a.m. in France).

She wanted to know everything about the journey: the hotel, the atmosphere, my conversations with her mother … It was very bad timing, from my point of view. There’s a kind of torture in being forced to stay awake just as you are falling asleep. But I did feel relieved that she’d finally called me. And, most pressingly, I wanted to know what had happened with Patrick. I’d been thinking about that storyline constantly for the past two days. How had Desjoyaux reacted when he found his curtains burned? Valérie told me he’d been stunned. Several witnesses confirmed that he hadn’t spoken at all for quite a long time afterwards. It wasn’t merely an act of vandalism; he saw it as a violent personal attack, almost a death knell.

Desjoyaux knew perfectly well what he was doing to his employees, but he could never have imagined that his behaviour would provoke such an act. Before that, nobody had ever fought back or even reacted at all to his sadism. The fear of losing their job had always kept his victims silent and docile. This time, it was different. He had caught Patrick at the worst moment of his life. At a moment when he had no choice but to react. Filled with a new energy, refusing to accept defeat, Patrick had overcome his fear of the consequences. Because he knew there would be consequences. Desjoyaux couldn’t doubt for a minute the identity of the arsonist; it was Martin, it had to be Martin.

At last he got a grip on himself and summoned the employee who had dared to defy him. Several minutes passed, but Patrick did not appear. Desjoyaux yelled at his secretary to call Patrick again (it was completely out of character for him to lose his temper).