Read Online The Beast of the Camargue by Xavier-Marie Bonnot - Free Book Online

started with the
Brigade de Répression du Banditisme
in Marseille, before asking to be transferred to the
Sécurité Publique
.
    Through the partition, the din was growing louder.
    â€œI’ve got out of touch with the drug squad,” said de Palma, pointing at the wall with his thumb.
    â€œWe’ve got that guy by the short and curlies. His wife and twobrothers-in-law are involved in smuggling and they’ve just coughed. Starting with 40 kilos this morning, we’ve now reached one ton. He’s a wholesaler.”
    Marceau swiveled round his computer screen, which showed a black-and-white picture of a stairwell.
    â€œThis is a live webcam! You can see the stairs of a building in Les Rosoirs, just beside the other bastard’s flat. And it can pivot, and zoom … Look!”
    Marceau clicked his mouse and the camera moved.
    â€œWe hid it in an air vent. We’re expecting another delivery any day. According to our grass, there’ll be 150 kilos.”
    â€œYou’re rolling in it these days in the commissariats.”
    â€œWhat’s more, it records the whole lot on D.V.D.—it picks out the places when there’s movement. The highlights of these assholes’ lives.”
    Marceau occupied the current investigations office. In practice, he dealt with everything.
    â€œYou came here specially to see me?”
    â€œNo, I wanted your recipe for fake pastis.”
    â€œCome on then, out with it.”
    â€œWilliam Steinert?”
    Marceau pointed to the missing person’s notice which was pinned to the wall.
    â€œYou’re with missing persons now?”
    â€œI want to do someone a favor. So they can clarify the situation. It isn’t all that clear.”
    â€œSame old de Palma, still the big boss with the know-nothing air … You remind me of a hack I used to give stories to from time to time. He always used to play the ignoramus.”
    â€œSteinert disappeared on the 24th, is that right?”
    â€œThat’s what his wife says … it’s not the official account. But there is no official account.”
    â€œWhat do you know about it all?”
    â€œHe’s loaded,” Marceau said, opening his arms. “And he’s been missing since at least June 24. I say that because no one really knows. It could easily have been the 22nd or 23rd.”
    â€œYeah, I suppose he’s not the sort who goes home from work every evening at the same time. I can just picture all that money.”
    â€œThen multiply by ten and you’re probably closer.”
    â€œHave you seen his wife?”
    â€œYes. She came here with two heavies and her lawyer.”
    â€œChandeler?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    De Palma’s expression suddenly changed. He stared at his fellow officer sadly.
    â€œIt’s a striking resemblance, isn’t it?”
    â€œThe case isn’t closed for you either?”
    â€œNot that one.”
    â€œAnd yet when you look at it, Michel, it’s just a case like any other.”
    â€œYeah.”
    A long silence fell in the room. From the neighboring office, quiet sobs could be heard.
    â€œO.K. I just wanted to know what you made of it. Then I’ll call her, tell her the case is closed, and that’s an end to it.”
    â€œMichel, the guy has disappeared, that’s what I make of it. And nothing is going to be closed before he breaks surface again, dead or alive! The problem is that I can’t do anything about it! If you only knew the amount of work that lands on me day after day: drugs, rapes, muggings, a fucker who’s swindled his wife … it’s all the time the jackpot! And I’m a jack of all trades, my friend!”
    Next to Steinert’s missing person’s notice, there were some press cuttings covering the few good results achieved by the local police in Tarascon: mostly about drugs, smack sold by Tunisians from Beaucaire, who regularly got rumbled;