Death on the Pont Noir - By Adrian Magson Page 0,49

the silence in the yard. All this metal and no noise; it didn’t feel right.

‘Fuck the dog.’ Bellin hawked noisily and spat on the ground. ‘You’ve killed me, you know that?’

‘How do you work that out?’ Rocco tested the front wing of a truck and sat down. He had his back to the nearest metal pile, kept the gun in his hand. If the dog came hunting, he’d have two, maybe three seconds to stop it.

‘You and your questions, coming here in your big black car and nosing around like God Almighty. It’s not right.’ Bellin didn’t appear to have heard him, but was rambling along on automatic, the bitter, resentful words spilling out as if released from captivity. ‘You might as well have put up a sign with a bloody great arrow pointing at me.’ He sucked at the cigarette but it had gone out. He crumpled the dead smoke in thick fingers and dropped the shredded remnants on the ground. Spat a mouthful of phlegm after it.

‘You’re not making much sense.’

‘Word. Word got out that you’d come round asking about the DS. Doesn’t take any time at all for that to spread.’

‘Word got out to whom?’

‘I should have burnt that bloody thing the moment it arrived here – and the driver with it. Poured petrol on it and watched it melt.’ He dug a heel into the soft ground, grinding some of the butt ends deeper into the mud with studied viciousness. ‘I should have known it would come to no good.’

‘If you help me,’ said Rocco, ‘I can help you.’

Bellin’s eyes threw back the futility of that promise. ‘You think? You have a safe place where they can’t get at me? A big dark hole where even the light doesn’t shine?’ He sighed. ‘I’d be dead inside two days.’

‘If that’s the case, and you’re that important to them – whoever they are – you should consider my offer.’

‘Important?’ Bellin didn’t even lift his head. ‘I’m not important.’

‘So why would they come after you so quickly?’ He knew the answer perfectly well, but it was better to keep Bellin talking.

The scrap dealer gave a tired smile. ‘You know why, Rocco. You’ve been round the block; I’ve heard things about you, so don’t pretend to be the thick-eared country cop. You know how things work.’

He was right. Rocco knew all too well. Whoever Bellin worked for, if they thought he was doing anything more than being seen by the police about a suspicious car, they would come after him. No other reason existed. It was enough that he was seen talking to them out in the open. But if he agreed to go in, it would be seen as the ultimate betrayal, and that would merit an example to be set and a message to others.

Rocco opened his mouth to say more, then closed it again. He’d come across many others like Bellin; recognised them for what they were. Coarsened and brutalised by a life of petty crime and used by others more powerful than them, they strutted through life like winners in their own small world, but underneath it all were in constant fear of retribution from those same people whom they feared or had offended in some way. What Bellin lacked right now, here, today, was the imagination to survive, to tear himself away and flee. He was trapped by his own surroundings, unable to visualise an alternative, like a steer in a slaughter yard awaiting its fate.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

He left Bellin to his self-imposed misery and drove back to the station. He would come back once the man had taken a while to think over his options. He was almost there, living the threat that was hanging over him, real or imagined; all it would need was a nudge and he’d crumble.

It was nearly lunchtime and quiet. He found Colonel Saint-Cloud in his temporary office studying a sheaf of papers.

‘I think I’ve found a possible attack site,’ Rocco told him.

Saint-Cloud gave a slight lift of an eyebrow. He was clearly sceptical but the statement seemed to take him by surprise. ‘How could you do that? You don’t even know the proposed route or timing.’

‘I know the president has expressed a desire to visit a local monument. I also know it will be a private visit, so no entourage, no press and minimum security presence other than his normal bodyguards. And I know how the attack will be carried out. What I don’t know for sure is when,