Imagine…the snow, the cold, the darkness. Imagine that moment when Francis came back to Vinca’s room, planning to wall her corpse into the gym. He went over to the body lying on the warm bed, picked her up, and, with the strength of an ox, carried her the way a knight carries a princess. But not to take her to a magical castle. He carried her to the dark, frozen building site that smelled of concrete and oozing damp. He was alone, accompanied only by his demons and his ghosts. He had already sent Ahmed home. He laid Vinca’s body on a tarpaulin on the ground in the blaze of floodlights. He was mesmerized by the body of the girl and found it hard to believe that he was about to pour concrete over her. Some hours earlier, he had disposed of the body of Alexis Clément without asking any questions. But this was different. This was too hard. He gazed at her for a long time, then crept closer to drape her with a blanket, as though she might still catch cold. And, for a moment, as the tears rolled down his cheeks, he imagined that she was still alive. The illusion was so powerful, he could almost see her chest rise and fall.

Until he realized that Vinca really was breathing.

How was that possible? Annabelle had hit her on the head with a cast-iron statue. The girl had a bellyful of booze and pills. Obviously, tranquilizers slow the heart rate, but he had checked earlier and had felt no pulse. He put his ear to girl’s chest and heard her heart pounding. And it was the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

Francis did not hesitate. He was not about to pick up his shovel and finish the job. He simply could not do that. He carried Vinca to his truck and laid her on the back seat. Then he drove toward Mercantour National Park, where he owned a hunting lodge, a small cottage where he sometimes spent the night when hunting chamois goats near Entraunes. Usually it was a two-hour drive, but traffic conditions then meant that it took him twice as long. By the time he reached the border of the Département Alpes-de-Haute-Provence, dawn was breaking. He laid Vinca on a sofa in the hunting lodge, lit a fire in the hearth, brought in firewood, and boiled some water.