‘I presume theTell nobodypart had Clementine and Mason Bell scared. They want Maisy back safely. The Metro Police do not seem to share the family’s sense of urgency.’
Officer Rose said nothing, clearly shocked about the new direction this conversation was taking. His frown suggested he was unimpressed Charlie had seen this note first and was a step ahead of the police.
‘Something feels opportunistic about this note,’ Charlie continued. ‘That hurried, childlike scrawl. The ransom demand. The broken sentences. A premeditated kidnapping would not be so incoherent. It’s almost like this was written on the fly. Or by someone less educated. Not someone multilingual and well travelled.’
Officer Rose replied, ‘Mademoiselle Bellsaidher niece’s gentleman friend was Swiss, but she herself isaméricaine.’ Charlie couldn’t help noticing the slightest trace of disdain in his voice. He was stalling, still trying to catch up on the note,and picking flaws in Charlie’s case rather than examining the evidence before him. ‘Perhaps Mademoiselle Bell’s ear is not finely tuned to the nuances of European accents? Could this mystery man have beenrusse, Croat, Italian, French or German with an overlying accent? He spoke English but with a thick accent. Mademoiselle Bell identified him as Swiss because he told her so, but if she could not pick the accent—though she swears it was “Swiss”—this man could be Russian for all we know. Perhaps his other languages were not as developed. He had broken English.’
Charlie thought of Violet and her seven and a half languages. ‘Multilingual people tend to be more adept, have better handwriting, not worse. These letters do not show a good command of written language, do they?’
‘True!’ the young officer answered with grudging admiration.
‘You may go now, Officer Rose. Thank you for your time.’
The officer nodded at Charlie, who simply said, ‘Merci, au revoir.’
When the young man had closed the door behind him, the inspecteur said, ‘Thank you for bringing us this. We’ll have some investigators look at the handwriting. Do you have the envelope it was delivered in? Perhaps there was a postage watermark or stamp.’
‘No envelope, it was folded in two and delivered by a small errand boy. According to the concierge, the child looked like a street urchin. He’d never seen the boy before. No sign of saidchild near the hotel, of course.’ She shook her head, frustrated that trail had already gone cold.
‘May we?’ The inspecteur waved the letter at Charlie.
‘Keep it, of course. You see the warning,No Police!I worry we’re jeopardising Maisy’s life by sharing this with you. But it’s the right thing to do.’ Charlie nodded. ‘Clementine Bell took some convincing, though.’
‘Mercifor not being a vigilante,’ the inspecteur said graciously. ‘I don’t need to tell you how quickly things can go wrong …’
He looked at her pointedly and Charlie’s breath caught in her throat. She saw such sorrow in his eyes.
‘Mademoiselle James, I’m so sorry …’
‘That’s all behind us now. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have stopped me.’
‘Alas, no. You are powerful. A force! I’d never forgive myself if …’
Charlie reached over and placed her hand on the inspecteur’s.
It was strong and slender like a pianist’s. She had imagined this very hand exploring her body not so long ago. But that was not to be, as their professional relationship had come at great cost. ‘It’s not your fault,’ she repeated. ‘I would do it all again tomorrow to get the story.’
When the inspecteur spoke, it was so soft, Charlie had to lean in a little to hear.
‘I hope that never happens.’
They looked at each other, a sea of complex emotions swirling between them.
Charlie cleared her throat, aware that what she was about to say would upset this quiet truce they’d just brokered.
‘I should inform you, we’ve made a note of the rendezvous point for the ransom.’
‘Of course you have!’ The inspecteur sighed, exasperated, and then he held up his hand. ‘But can I ask—no,insist—that you leave this matter to the police?’
Charlie nodded, noting the worry in the inspecteur’s eyes. ‘I will. I can assure you that my editor, George, has seen this note and he agrees this is a story. We have not shared this ransom note with any other sources. We will not interfere.’
‘But?’
‘But I will be on location for the drop. Discreetly.’
The inspecteur’s mouth twitched with annoyance. ‘If I see you or anyone from your paper anywhere near this, I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice. You can tell your editor, George Roberts, that is a promise, not a warning.’
‘Noted,’ said Charlie, who had no intention of mentioning the inspecteur’s warning to her editor. Keeping her editors and police informants onside was a tricky dance. She couldn’t wait to leave the police station and scope the park to find a hidden spot from which to watch the ransom drop. One that could not be seen by the alleged kidnappers or the police.