Controller General Lamastre had been regional head of the P.J. in Marseille for five years. He was rather a stylish man, he was in the town hall’s good books, and didn’t like disciplinary scandals. That morning, Lamastre was getting impatient. He picked up the F.B.I. special agent badge which he ...
Vidal parked his car on the pavement of rue Béranger, fifty meters away from the square and the church of Saint-Julien. At 9:00 a.m., the neighborhood was deserted. He tried to imagine the places that Julia Chevallier would have frequented. He eliminated the bar-cum-tobacconist’s in the square—Ju...