trying to sound casual.
“ I don’t know. The whole summer, I would say. These archaeologists do things by the season, don’t they? I can tell you they’re not likely to be gone in a fortnight.” She looked at him carefully. “Why? Is it important?”
He didn’t know her well enough yet to trust her, so he shook his head, trying to suggest it was irrelevant. “It’s just interesting when other researchers coincidentally turn up in the same area. But you say they’re only looking for Cathar remains?”
“ So they tell me. Mind you, I haven’t got really close to any of the archaeologists yet.”
“ Are they on the site all the time?”
“ Most days, I think. I understand they’re staying at a hotel in Cuillan. That’s on the Limoux to Axat road.”
“ I think we ought to find out some more about what they’re doing - how big an area they’re excavating; how long they are likely to be there - that sort of thing.”
She looked at him quizzically but didn’t question his interest, “I could drop in to the hotel for a drink one night, if you want me to.”
Hebert nodded. “That might be useful.”
“ My cover would be perfect for quizzing them about what they’re doing - all back-up research for my series. I may even get myself invited up to inspect the dig.”
“ That would be good. If you do visit the castle I would like to come with you.”
“ It’s quite a scramble getting up to the castle. It’s on a very high ridge. Probably there used to be steps but they’ve disappeared now. I believe there are some ropes to hang on to but the climb is quite demanding.”
“ I shall be quite all right, thank you,” he said stiffly, suddenly aware of his age.
There was an uncomfortable silence while he searched for a way to change the conversation. At last he said, “Forgive me but you don’t seem the same type of person as Montlucon or Mickey whatever-he’s-called.”
“ I should hope not,” she burst out. “When I was growing up I believe I was a bit of a wild kid in the streets of Marseilles. But then my father decided he wanted me to be properly educated. So when I was ten he sent me to a convent school to turn me into a lady.” She shuddered. “Oh, I hated the discipline that those nuns imposed on me. But I admit they taught me how to behave. Then I went to university in Lyons to complete my education. It was the university which made me what I am.” She put her head on one side. “I am a real journalist, you know.”
“ I don’t doubt it.”
“ So I won’t have any problems convincing people that I have a genuine right to be here. My current employment will also enable me to go just about anywhere without questions being asked.” She looked at him sceptically. “What about you? Don’t you think you stick out like a sore thumb?”
“ I don’t have any problems.” Slightly nettled, he told her about his cover researching the Templars. “Like you, the story is close enough to the truth to stand close scrutiny. If anybody is suspicious enough to check with Paris they’ll be told the same story there.”
She pondered it for a while, her head on one side. “Yes,” she concluded. “I think you’ll do.”
“ In fact,” he added, “the two of us fit together well. Nobody would think it suspicious if we met up from time to time to compare notes. It’s just the kind of thing that two researchers into similar projects might do.”
Her smile made her look most attractive. “Why not? Were you thinking of offering to take me to dinner tonight?”
“ I would very much like to do that. Where are you staying?”
They exchanged addresses and mobile phone numbers and arranged to meet later. When she rose and left, Alain watched her depart down the road with her long, easy stride and found he was looking forward to the evening ahead with a cheerfulness which he hadn’t felt for a long time.
It was one evening several days later when Alain hurried to open the door in
“ I don’t know. The whole summer, I would say. These archaeologists do things by the season, don’t they? I can tell you they’re not likely to be gone in a fortnight.” She looked at him carefully. “Why? Is it important?”
He didn’t know her well enough yet to trust her, so he shook his head, trying to suggest it was irrelevant. “It’s just interesting when other researchers coincidentally turn up in the same area. But you say they’re only looking for Cathar remains?”
“ So they tell me. Mind you, I haven’t got really close to any of the archaeologists yet.”
“ Are they on the site all the time?”
“ Most days, I think. I understand they’re staying at a hotel in Cuillan. That’s on the Limoux to Axat road.”
“ I think we ought to find out some more about what they’re doing - how big an area they’re excavating; how long they are likely to be there - that sort of thing.”
She looked at him quizzically but didn’t question his interest, “I could drop in to the hotel for a drink one night, if you want me to.”
Hebert nodded. “That might be useful.”
“ My cover would be perfect for quizzing them about what they’re doing - all back-up research for my series. I may even get myself invited up to inspect the dig.”
“ That would be good. If you do visit the castle I would like to come with you.”
“ It’s quite a scramble getting up to the castle. It’s on a very high ridge. Probably there used to be steps but they’ve disappeared now. I believe there are some ropes to hang on to but the climb is quite demanding.”
“ I shall be quite all right, thank you,” he said stiffly, suddenly aware of his age.
There was an uncomfortable silence while he searched for a way to change the conversation. At last he said, “Forgive me but you don’t seem the same type of person as Montlucon or Mickey whatever-he’s-called.”
“ I should hope not,” she burst out. “When I was growing up I believe I was a bit of a wild kid in the streets of Marseilles. But then my father decided he wanted me to be properly educated. So when I was ten he sent me to a convent school to turn me into a lady.” She shuddered. “Oh, I hated the discipline that those nuns imposed on me. But I admit they taught me how to behave. Then I went to university in Lyons to complete my education. It was the university which made me what I am.” She put her head on one side. “I am a real journalist, you know.”
“ I don’t doubt it.”
“ So I won’t have any problems convincing people that I have a genuine right to be here. My current employment will also enable me to go just about anywhere without questions being asked.” She looked at him sceptically. “What about you? Don’t you think you stick out like a sore thumb?”
“ I don’t have any problems.” Slightly nettled, he told her about his cover researching the Templars. “Like you, the story is close enough to the truth to stand close scrutiny. If anybody is suspicious enough to check with Paris they’ll be told the same story there.”
She pondered it for a while, her head on one side. “Yes,” she concluded. “I think you’ll do.”
“ In fact,” he added, “the two of us fit together well. Nobody would think it suspicious if we met up from time to time to compare notes. It’s just the kind of thing that two researchers into similar projects might do.”
Her smile made her look most attractive. “Why not? Were you thinking of offering to take me to dinner tonight?”
“ I would very much like to do that. Where are you staying?”
They exchanged addresses and mobile phone numbers and arranged to meet later. When she rose and left, Alain watched her depart down the road with her long, easy stride and found he was looking forward to the evening ahead with a cheerfulness which he hadn’t felt for a long time.
It was one evening several days later when Alain hurried to open the door in
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