“Of course.”
Max dropped in at the Inspecteurs des Finances, the Crédit Lyonnais, and the Assurance Nationale and chatted with the tax computers. He visited the computers at the gendarmerie at Rosny-sous-Bois and the ones at the Préfecture of Police at Île de la Cité.
They started off with the light, easy gossip of old friends. Who are Charles and Hélène Roffe-Martel? Max asked.
Charles and Hélène Roffe-Martel, residence Rue François Premier 5, Vésinet, married May 24, 1970, at the Mairie in Neuilly, children none, Hélène three times divorced, maiden name Roffe, bank account at the Crédit Lyonnais in Avenue Montaigne in name of Hélène Roffe-Martel, average balance in excess of twenty thousand francs.
Expenditures?
With pleasure. A bill from Librairie Marceau for books…a dental bill for root-canal work for Charles Martel…hospital bills for Charles Martel…doctor’s bill for examination of Charles Martel.
Do you have result of diagnosis?
Can you wait? I will have to speak to another computer.
Yes, please. Max waited.
The machine containing the doctor’s report began to speak. / have the diagnosis.
Go ahead.
A nervous condition.
Anything else?
Severe bruises and contusions on thighs and buttocks.
Any explanation?
None given.
Go on, please.
A bill for a pair of men’s shoes from Pinet…one hat from Rose Valois…foie gras from Fauchon …Carita beauty salon…Maxim’s, dinner party for eight…flat silver from Christofle…a man’s robe from Sulka…Max stopped the computer. Something was bothering him. Something about the bills. He realized what it was. Every purchase had been signed by Mme. Roffe-Martel. The bill for men’s clothes, the restaurant bills—all the accounts were in her name. Interesting.
And then the first loose thread.
A company named Belle Paix had purchased a land tax stamp. One of the owners of Belle Paix was named Charles Dessain. Charles Dessain’s Social Security number was the same as Charles Martel’s. Concealment.
Tell me about Belle Paix, Max said.
Belle Paix is owned by René Duchamps and Charles Dessain, also known as Charles Martel.
What does Belle Paix do?
It owns a vineyard.
How much is the company capitalized at?
Four million francs.
Where did Charles Martel get his share of the money?
From Chez ma Tante.
The house of your aunt?
Sorry. A French slang expression. The proper name is Crédit Municipal.
Is the vineyard profitable?
No. It failed.
Max needed more. He kept talking to his friends, probing, cajoling, demanding. It was the insurance computer that confided to Max that there was a warning on file of a possible insurance fraud. Max felt something delicious stir within him.
Tell me about it, he said
And they talked, like two women gossiping back and forth over the Monday wash.
When Max was through he went to see a jeweler named Pierre Richaud.
In thirty minutes Max knew to a franc how much of Helene Roffe-Martel’s jewelry had been duplicated. It came to just over two million francs, the amount Charles Martel had invested in the vineyard. So Charles Dessain-Martel had been desperate enough to steal his wife’s jewelry.
What other acts of desperation had he committed?
There was one other entry that interested Max. It might be of little significance, bu Max methodically filed it away in his mind. It was a bill for the purchase of one pair of mountain-climbing boots. It gave Max pause, because mountain climbing did not fit in with his image of Charles Martel-Dessain, a man who was so dominated by his wife that he was allowed no charge accounts of his own, had no bank account in his name, and was forced to steal in order to make an investment.
No, Max could not visualize Charles Martel challenging a mountain. Max went back to his computers.
The bill you showed me yesterday from Timwear Sports Shop. I would like to see an itemized statement, please.
Certainly.
It flashed on the screen before him. There was the bill for the boots. Size 36A. A woman’s size. It was Hélène Roffe-Martel who was the mountain climber.
Sam Roffe had been killed on a mountain.
CHAPTER 42
Rue Armengaud was a quiet Paris street lined with one- and two-story private residences, each with its sloping guttered roof. Towering above its neighbors was Number 26, an eight-story modern structure of glass, steel and stone, the headquarters of Interpol, the clearinghouse for information in international criminal activities.