Paris Love Match - By Nigel Blackwell Page 0,23
brandies.
Piers ducked his head down to get into April’s line of sight. “We need to know what Auguste was involved in.”
She shook her head. “He was a good man.”
“I’m sure he was, but we need to know. Our lives are in danger.”
She sat silent, and the waiter returned with the drinks. Piers could smell the brandy over their own stench. He handed over a twenty. “Keep the change.” It seemed only fair given their condition.
Sidney persuaded April to take a drink. She took a couple of sips then downed the glass in one.
Piers gave the alcohol a moment. “April, we really need to know about Auguste.”
She gave the barest of nods. “He liked to joke about things. That’s how we met, how we got to know each other. You know, Auguste and April, we’ve heard all the jokes.”
Sidney placed her hand on April’s shoulder, and April placed her hand on top. “I knew what he did from the moment we started going out. I knew it was dangerous. And … and not always right. But he wasn’t bad. Not really. He didn’t use guns.” She drew herself up. “I don’t know about the shooting. He wouldn’t,” she shook her head, “he didn’t. No. Not Auguste.”
Sidney squeezed her hand. “But what was he doing?”
April put her hands together in her lap. She gave Sidney a sideways look, then looked down at her hands. “You have to understand. Auguste worked for the same man for ten years. We struggled to pay the rent some months. It wasn’t easy. His mother, my father, they were old; they needed looking after. And his boss was so rich. Money for anything. And always Auguste helped, never complained. When Auguste’s mother passed away, we talked about doing something different, but how could we? We didn’t have the money. Then when my father passed away … then we knew we had to do it. To do something. A new life. A fresh start.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “This was going to be it.”
“So you were running away?” Piers said.
April rolled her eyes. “We knew we couldn’t stay in Paris. We’d lived our whole lives here, and all we owned was an old car that he worked on every weekend just to keep going.”
She looked up at Piers and he nodded sagely, hoping she would get to the point soon. “And?”
“And we had to do something. He wanted to do something. He was good at things. Good at listening, good at figuring things out.”
“What did he figure out?”
She bit her lip. “There was a painting. Valuable. He figured out about the painting.”
“What painting?”
She rubbed her hands together. “I don’t know. He planned things round his place, never at mine. He said the less I knew the better. But it … it was hot, and worth lots. Plenty for us to start a new life with.”
“That was his plan. To steal the painting?”
She looked at Piers like he was an idiot, which be began to feel he was.
“Who was he stealing the painting from? Pierre Morel?”
She looked down and rubbed her hands together. “No. Morel was his boss. These were bad people. He said it would be best if I didn’t know them.”
“We need to know.”
She shook her head then looked up at him. “I don’t know.”
“This isn’t a game April. Who was he stealing it from?”
“I don’t know! I told you, I don’t know.”
Sidney glowered at Piers. “She said she doesn’t know.”
“But if we’re going to find this thing—”
“She’s had a shock.”
“I understand that, but we don’t have long before those goons come after us again.”
Sidney wrapped her arm around April’s shoulder and stared hard at Piers. “You can still give her time.”
Piers made a show of closing his mouth.
After a long silence, April stood up. “I have to go.”
Piers looked up at her. “Where to?”
“I can’t tell you.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry about Auguste. I really am. And about … just then.”
Sidney stood and hugged the woman. “We’re sorry. Really.”
“You have somewhere to go?” Piers said.
She nodded. “Away from Paris. I have friends.” She looked hard at each of them. “If you have any sense, you’ll get out of Paris, too. These people are ruthless. Auguste said so. Trained killers. Some sort of army, special forces, people.”
Piers nodded grimly.
Sidney rummaged in her pockets and handed a bundle of bills to April. “Auguste’s.”
She pushed them into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe her nose. She didn’t look at either of them. “They’re bad