“Yes,” said Nikki.
“I called your phone fifteen minutes ago. Some guy answered, wouldn’t give his name. I thought you might be in trouble. Am I right?”
“Yes, Commissaire, you are. Frank Mazot and his friend Colonel Duvivier, formerly of the DGSE, have me under lock and key until their friend arrives. Mr. Neill from the CIA.”
“Neill’s down here already? You’ve got to get out.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” she said. Then quietly, “Hey, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. The information you gave me came in handy. Coluzzi’s in town. I’ve got the address of his place over in Aubagne. There’s more. I’ll tell you when I see you.”
“It might be a while.”
“I’m parked out front. I’m in the red car. Can’t miss me.”
“Red, seriously? What kind?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Oh Christ. You didn’t?”
“Can you get out?”
“That’s a tough one.”
“They really got you under lock and key?”
Nikki said yes. Mazot was shooting the breeze with another detective, keeping one eye on her. Across the room, Duvivier guarded the door like a watchdog, arms crossed, staring at her as if she’d murdered his wife and children.
“Where are you? First floor? Squad room?”
“Yep. You know it?”
“Know it? I was practically raised there. Tell me one thing. Is there still a broken window in one corner, just above the water pipes? Big crack going right down the middle shaped like a lightning bolt.”
“It’s been almost twenty years,” said Nikki dismissively, surveying the room all the same. “No way it’s still—”
“Well?”
She’d spotted the window and the lightning-bolt-shaped crack. It wasn’t easy. The glass was so thick with grime no sunlight had penetrated it for…“It’s there.”
“Then we’re safe to assume not much else has changed.”
Mazot had stopped talking and was giving her the evil eye. She gave him a weak smile and mouthed, “Coffee? Please.” He considered this, then approached, grabbing the phone out of her hands.
“Hello, Dumont? Frank Mazot. Your girl’s gotten herself into a heap of trouble. I’m looking out for her the best I can, but there’s only so much I can do.”
Nikki couldn’t hear what Simon was saying. Mazot’s features grew darker. His eyes studied Nikki more closely. He nodded, then shook his head, then laughed, then looked back at Nikki, as if he knew something really bad that she didn’t. Finally, he said, “Will do. Thanks.” He handed the phone back to Nikki. “Coffee, right?”
“No sugar.” Nikki put the phone to her ear as Mazot headed to the break room. “What was that about?”
“Tell you later. Is he gone?”
“Getting me coffee.”
“Okay, then. There’s another way out of the squad room. There’s a door at the opposite corner from the cracked window. It looks like a closet. It’s not. It connects to a back stairway that was used by workers to deliver coal way back when.”
“What if it’s locked?”
