The Girl in the Shadows. Katherine Debona
‘I don’t know; it was a mistake.’
‘Yes, you said that already. Was Agnes a mistake as well?’
‘What’s she got to do with this?’
Veronique sighed. ‘Her best friend. Surely even you appreciated the cruelty?’
‘Best friend?’ Frederic laughed. ‘Lady, I don’t know who’s been giving you your information but Agnes and Mathilde weren’t friends. Agnes couldn’t stand her, said she was a social climber, a leech.’
‘When did you last see her?’
‘Mathilde? The night before she went missing.’
‘Did you speak to her?’
Frederic shook his head. ‘Non. She came to my apartment, standing outside and banging on the door. No doubt off her face…’
‘She was high?’ Perhaps marijuana wasn’t the only release Mathilde had been dabbling with. She would ask Christophe to check at the clinic, pass Mathilde’s photograph around and see if anyone recognised her.
‘Not always, but towards the end, more and more. That girl is seriously messed up, but it’s not my fault she ran off.’
‘That well may be, but I’m sure the police would be interested to find out who was supplying her.’
‘You’re way off. You should go talk to the people she works with. Bunch of losers dealing in all sorts, not just drugs.’
‘So you never gave her anything?’
He came closer. ‘I only ever give women what they want.’
Veronique moved away from the table. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t date boys.’
‘Really?’ Frederic grabbed her hand, forcing it against his crotch. ‘You think I’m a boy?’
Veronique tilted her head to look up at him and smiled. The hand that was curled around his groin squeezed, gently at first but with increasing pressure.
‘Be careful what you wish for,’ she whispered, releasing her grip.
He drew on his cigarette, flicking it past her head whilst his other arm shot out, grabbing at her neck and pushing her back onto the table. Pressing his mouth against hers he forced her lips apart with his tongue. She returned his kiss, hearing him moan as the hand around her throat travelled down towards her chest.
She bit down hard on his bottom lip and he shot backward, bringing fingers up to his mouth as she eased herself off the table.
The back of his hand struck against her cheek.
‘So you like things rough?’ he snarled at her.
‘You have no idea,’ she replied, curling her hand into a fist as she shifted her weight onto her back leg, leaning her whole body into the uppercut that made contact with the bottom of his nose.
‘You crazy bitch!’ he roared as blood spurted from his nostrils. He lunged at her but she dodged under his arm, spinning around and punching into his kidney as he fell against the table.
He shot round, one hand gripping the end of a pool cue. Veronique faced him, her own hands raised.
‘Is that such a good idea?’ She nodded towards the bar, where a dozen or so people were turned in their direction.
Frederic’s eyes flickered towards his friend who was returning from the bar. He made as if to lower his arm then swung out, lips curled back in a snarl. She tried to duck but the cue caught her across the shoulder, tipping her off balance. She turned her face to see him raise the cue again.
‘Jesus, Frederic, what are you doing?’ His friend grabbed on to Frederic’s arm, pulling him away from Veronique.
‘Casse-toi!’ Frederic struggled against the other man, bloody spittle collecting at the corner of his mouth.
Two barmen appeared on either side of Frederic and together they dragged him through the crowd of people, his angered cries calling back to her.
‘You okay?’
Veronique looked over at Frederic’s friend, opening her mouth wide and touching her fingertips to her cheek. She could already sense the beginnings of a bruise.
‘Oui, I have had far worse.’
‘I feel like I should apologise for my friend.’
Veronique smiled. ‘I get the impression you have to do that a lot.’
He shrugged, offering her a beer.
‘Non, merci.’ She shook her head. ‘But thank you for stepping in when you did.’
Leaving the swell of revellers behind Veronique walked outside and checked her phone. Still no news from Christophe. By refusing to respond to any of her messages throughout the day she was certain that not only did the necklace belong to Mathilde, but the police had found something more as well. She needed to speak to him, to find out where the investigation was headed, because all she had come up with so far were more questions.
Frederic was a bully, and a violent one at that. But what he’d said about Mathilde, about her and Agnes not being friends, made her think that there was another side to Mathilde’s life she hadn’t yet touched upon. A darker, more dangerous side that had nothing to do with Frederic and everything to do with whoever was supplying her.
If Christophe wasn’t going to talk to her then she would have to go to the crime scene herself. If she left now she could squeeze in a few hours’ sleep and still get to the park before it opened.
Looking down the street in the hope of a vacant taxi, Veronique noticed the girl from the bar, huddled in a doorway. She shook her head; there was no point in trying to talk to her. But then again she was partly responsible for the girl’s pain, something she had no desire to pass on to the undeserving.
‘Hey,’ she called out as she crossed the pavement. The girl snapped her head up in response. Her navy-blue eyes were ringed with smeared mascara, her lips chewed.
‘Go away,’ she sniffed, flicking a cigarette butt into the gutter and slouching against the wall.
Veronique sighed. ‘Look, I know you probably won’t believe me, but guys like Frederic aren’t worth the effort.’
‘Seems like you found that out the hard way.’
‘That was work, nothing personal.’
‘Whatever.’ She put a fresh cigarette in her mouth, cupping her hands around the tip as she tried to light it.
‘Those things will kill you.’
‘Who are you, my mother?’
Veronique laughed, one short burst of irony. ‘Frederic thinks he’s untouchable, that his good looks and charm will give him everything he dreams of. But in ten years’ time he will still be coming to this bar every Friday night, clinging on to the youth that is slowly slipping away. Do you really want to spend your life following a man who will never love you in return?’
The girl stared at her.
‘You know what, you’re right, you’re not my responsibility and I have better things to do with my time.’ She looked again at the girl, recognising in her expression some of the naivety she used to carry around.
Before him. Before it all went horribly wrong.
‘Just be careful, okay?’ she said, laying a hand on the girl’s arm before turning away and crossing the street, heels clicking against cobblestones as she disappeared into the night.
Alice
Evening