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.He heard the snick of the lock retracting and stared at his finger and thumb, pointed downwards at the floor.He released a faint whistle and very carefully slid the drawer open a short way.There were papers inside.He eased the drawer back further and found that he’d accessed Jérôme’s stationery supply.There was a yellow foolscap notepad, a couple of pens and some quality writing stock as well as a collection of envelopes of various sizes.There was nothing of any interest to Trent, so he slid the drawer closed, turned the key in the lock and transferred his attention to the uppermost drawer on his right.The same key disabled the lock and the drawer opened just as easily.It contained only one item – a blue leather appointment diary.The diary was large and thick.It related to the current calendar year, two pages to a day.Trent spread it on his knees beneath the desk.He glanced up and checked the corridor, then flicked through to the day of Aimée’s disappearance.There it was.Set down in the gap beside 4 p.m., in bold blue ink.Meeting with A.Paget.Nothing had been added to the note.No explanation of what the meeting might be for nor where it had been scheduled to take place.There’d been no attempt to erase the record or to disguise it at all.Trent scanned upwards.There was another entry against 2 p.m., this one surrounded by square brackets.[C.M.??]C.M.The initials of the dancer Jérôme had arranged to meet, Trent supposed.He wasn’t sure it mattered any more, though it was something he could verify with Girard.Trent kept his thumb on the page and flicked forwards at speed until he reached the present date.His quick scan revealed no mention of Aimée, or of Trent, nor anything connected to them both.There were no further references to C.M.Trent paused and worked backwards from his thumb until he located the two previous meetings Aimée had held with Jérôme.One had taken place just over five weeks before her disappearance.The first was some two weeks before that.The delay and the repeat meetings didn’t strike Trent as unusual.It often took some time for Aimée to hook a client and even longer for the documentation to come through from the brokerage firm they liaised with once the initial paperwork had been signed.The purpose of Aimée’s third meeting with Jérôme would have been to deliver the complete set of policy documents.One of the things that rankled with Trent most of all was that Jérôme had attacked her, possibly killed her, then delivered the insurance papers to his lawyer as if nothing untoward had occurred.He felt a surge of heat course through him.Anger that made him want to lash out.He fought to control his temper and settled for tearing free the pages connected to Aimée.He folded them several times, until they were wrapped very tight and very small, and then he wedged them inside the ankle opening of the boot on his right foot.He closed the diary and slipped it away and locked the drawer and moved on to the one below.He was afraid of what he might find now.His hand shook as he inserted the key.His jaw ached and he became aware of how badly he’d been clenching his teeth.Could there be something of Aimée’s in this desk? Her mobile, perhaps? Might he find some concrete evidence of what had been done to her? And what if he did? What then?‘What are you doing?’Trent’s head snapped up.Alain was standing in the doorway to the study clutching a buff cardboard wallet in front of his waist.Trent had no idea how long he’d been standing there.The drawer Trent had been working on was partway open.He palmed the key and allowed it to fall gently inside.The wire that connected the recording equipment to the telephone was hanging in a loop in front of him.It was split in two.One end was plugged into the phone.The remaining lead terminated in a socket jack.Trent nudged the drawer closed with his knee and delved his hand inside his satchel, depositing the pouch of skeleton keys beneath the false bottom and removing a set of headphones in one fluid movement.He made a show of linking the headphones to the jack.‘All done,’ he said, and laid the headphones down on top of the recording equipment.Alain didn’t respond.He was staring towards the side of the desk Trent had been working through.He took a step inside the study.Then another.He moved with purpose across the centre of the room and circled the end of the desk just as Trent gave the drawer a final nudge with his knee.Alain looked down.Trent’s heart thrashed in his chest.He knew that Alain had come from the security room.He knew for a fact that there were surveillance cameras rigged up outside.But what if there were some inside, too? What if there was a device hidden in the study?Trent twisted in his seat to face Alain.He tried to breathe steadily and slow his pulse but his eyes were straining to scan the ceiling.He glanced behind Alain at some of the shelves of green leather books.He couldn’t spot a camera.‘I have a question for you,’ Alain said
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