The English Girl: A Novel

stand of votive candles. “But are you sure ?” he asked when Keller joined him. Yes, said Keller, nodding slowly. He was sure.
    “Did you ever see her?”
    “No.”
    “Then how do you know she’s there?”
    “Because one knows a criminal operation when one sees one,” said Keller assuredly. “They’re either running a meth lab, assembling a dirty bomb, or babysitting a kidnapped English girl. I’m betting on the girl.”
    “How many people are in the house?”
    “Brossard, the woman, and two other Marseilles boys. The boys stay inside during the day, but at night they come outside for a smoke and a bit of fresh air.”
    “Any visitors?”
    Keller shook his head. “The woman left the villa once each day to do some shopping and wave to the neighbors, but there was no other activity.”
    “How long was she away?”
    “One hour and twenty-eight minutes the first day, two hours and twelve minutes the second.”
    “I admire your precision.”
    “I didn’t have much else to keep me occupied.”
    Gabriel asked how Brossard spent his days.
    “He pretends to be on holiday,” Keller replied. “But he also takes a walk around the property to have a look at things. He almost stepped on me a couple of times.”
    “What’s the routine at night?”
    “Someone is always awake. They watch television in the sitting room or hang out in the garden.”
    “How can you tell they’re watching television?”
    “I can see it flickering through the shutters. By the way,” he added, “the shutters are never open. Never.”
    “Any other lights on at night?”
    “Not inside,” said Keller. “But the outside is lit up like a Christmas tree.”
    Gabriel frowned. Keller suppressed a yawn and asked about Paris.
    “It was cold.”
    “Paris or the meeting?”
    “Both,” replied Gabriel. “Especially when I suggested letting the French handle the rescue.”
    “Why on earth would we do that?”
    “That was Graham’s reaction, too.”
    “What a shock.”
    “You seem to have your finger on the pulse of Downing Street.”
    Keller allowed the remark to pass without a response. Gabriel contemplated the flickering votive candles for a moment before telling Keller about the rest of his meeting with Graham Seymour: the Office safe house in Cherbourg, the Office reception committee, the quiet return to England on a forged Office passport. But it was all predicated on one thing. They had to get Madeline out of the villa quickly and quietly. No shootouts. No car chases.
    “Shootouts are for cowboys,” said Keller, “and car chases only happen in the movies.”
    “How do we get through the lights without being seen by the guards?”
    “We don’t.”
    “Explain.”
    Keller did.
    “And if Brossard or one of the others comes downstairs?”
    “It’s possible they might get hurt.”
    “Permanently,” added Gabriel. He looked at Keller seriously for a moment. “Do you know what’s going to happen when the police find those bodies? They’ll start asking questions in town. And before long they’ll have a composite sketch of a former SAS man who was supposed to have died in Iraq. Hotel surveillance photographs, too.”
    “That’s what the macchia is for.”
    “Meaning?”
    “I’ll go to ground in Corsica and wait it out.”
    “It might be a long time before you’ll be able to ply your trade again,” Gabriel said. “A very long time.”
    “It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
    “For queen and country?”
    “For the girl.”
    Gabriel regarded Keller in silence for a moment. “I take it you have a problem with men who harm innocent women?”
    Keller nodded his head slowly.
    “Anything you want to tell me?”
    “You might find this hard to believe,” said Keller, “but I’m really not in the mood to take a stroll down memory lane with you.”
    Gabriel smiled. “There’s hope for you after all, Keller.”
    “A little,” the Englishman replied.
    Gabriel heard footfalls in the church and, turning, saw the woman in the belted raincoat coming slowly up the nave. Once again she paused before the main altar and made the sign of the cross with great care, forehead to heart, left shoulder to right.
    “The deadline is tomorrow,” said Gabriel. “Which means we have to go in tonight.”
    “The sooner the better.”
    “We need more people to do this the right way,” Gabriel said gloomily.
    “Yes, I know.”
    “A hundred things could go wrong.”
    “Yes, I know.”
    “She might not be able to