Belle - Lesley Pearse [199]
He turned to look at the hotel, wondering if there was a link he hadn’t thought of, and noticed a couple getting out of a fiacre. There were four other cabs waiting in line to pick up passengers too.
‘That’s it! Find the driver who took Belle that night,’ he murmured to himself. He knew it was a tall order, but it was worth a try. If Pascal did order the cab, the chances were that the driver regularly picked up fares here from the hotel.
Noah didn’t emerge from the Ritz for some thirty minutes. He spotted Etienne and hurried over to him.
‘He really is a snake,’ he said. ‘I watched him with other people for a little while, and though I couldn’t understand what was being said, twice I saw him get what looked like a back-hander. He speaks good English though; when it was my turn he got out various pamphlets about shows, and pointed out they were all sold out for tonight, but he had a contact who could get me tickets for “a bit extra”! When I asked him about girls he was cautious. Said he knew someone who might be able to do something. I got the impression he was waiting for a big note to be passed over.’
‘Did he ask where you were staying?’
‘No, but I had a moment of inspiration and told him I was in Paris to arrange my aunt’s funeral, and said I hardly knew where to begin to find an undertaker. Quick as a flash, he wrote a name down. Here it is.’
Noah gave the paper to Etienne. ‘Arnaud Garrow, Directeur de Services Funèbres,’ he read aloud. ‘Rue Custine, that’s close to Montmartre. I wonder if it’s the one he used to work for?’
‘It struck me as very odd, a concierge handing out an address for an undertaker,’ Noah said. ‘Has he got a finger in every pie in town?’
‘We’ll go there later and check,’ said Etienne, and went on to tell Noah about finding the driver who was paid to pick up a young woman from the Mirabeau in Rue St-Vincent de Paul on Thursday, 11 April. ‘Let’s go along and speak to them now, and then we’ll hop in one to take us over to rue Custine.’
Noah waited as Etienne had a last word with their cab driver. He couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he assumed he was asking the man to pass the word around other cab drivers about Belle’s ride to Montmartre on the 11th, and telling him they were to come to Gabrielle’s with the information where they would receive a reward.
‘What if that gets back to Pascal?’ Noah asked when the cab driver flicked his whip and the horse moved off.
‘I had to take that risk. We need the information if we’re to find her.’
Arnaud Garrow’s business premises looked very shabby: a small shop with an arrangement of dusty wax flowers sitting on some faded purple satin material in the window. The two men looked at each other in surprise.
‘Hardly in keeping with the splendour of the Ritz,’ Noah said with a smirk.
‘I’d better come in and do the talking,’ Etienne said. ‘I doubt they’ll speak English. I’ll just say who we were recommended by and see what reaction we get. It’s bound to be some chum or relative of his. You must’ve played the simple Englishman well.’
A thin man with dark, oily hair arranged over a large bald patch came through from the back as they entered the shop. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up and wore a dark green apron which had sawdust attached to it. Noah asked if he spoke English and the man shook his head. Etienne took over then and Noah heard the name Pascal amidst the stream of French.
The undertaker nodded and appeared to be speaking about Pascal. Etienne then introduced Noah under the fictitious name of John Marshall, and continued to speak on his behalf. The conversation between the two men went on for some five or six minutes, Etienne doing most of the talking. Then he shook the man’s hand before turning to Noah and telling him he’d said they would come back the next morning to make the arrangements when they’d discussed it with other family members.
Noah shook the undertaker’s hand and said goodbye, and he and Etienne left the shop.
‘Pascal is his wife’s brother,’ Etienne said