Read Chapter 9: THE DEAD MAN'S MECHANIC

The accusation was elegant.

Luc had signed Number Six's final inspection. Witnesses had seen him alter the fuel system. His private ledger was gone, removing his record of suspicious interference. And now investigators had found, in his footlocker, a packet of banknotes and a German-made spanner.

Someone had prepared the case before Vautrin ever took off.

"Stay here," Vautrin whispered.

"They'll search the field."

"Then we move before dawn."

Luc wanted to walk into headquarters with the supposedly dead lieutenant and end the lie immediately.

Vautrin refused.

"If I appear now, they abandon everything and say your modification caused an accidental failure that I survived. We have overheard them, but still have no documents. Roche's records are the weapon."

Perrin agreed.

"We need the false claims and the maintenance forgeries together."

They hid Vautrin in an abandoned wine cellar in a ruined village two kilometres away. Luc returned alone to the aerodrome before dawn and allowed the military police to arrest him.

The interrogating officer was Captain Maurice Bellon from group security, a tired reservist with spectacles and ink on his cuffs.

"Why did you modify Vautrin's fuel line?"

"To prevent sabotage."

"By creating a second fuel path not approved by technical regulations?"

"Yes."

Bellon rubbed his forehead. "Moreau, do you understand how that sounds?"

"Perfectly."

"Money was found in your locker."

"Planted."

"A German tool."

"We salvage tools from wrecks constantly."

"Several mechanics state you were obsessed with the belief that aircraft were being sabotaged."

"Because they were."

Bellon studied him. "Who?"

Luc named no one.

If Bellon was honest, he lacked evidence. If he was compromised, names would be dangerous.

"I want Sergeant Perrin present," Luc said.

"You are in no position to make demands."

"Then I have nothing more to say."

He spent the day in a locked room beneath the farmhouse.

Through the wall he heard aircraft taking off.

Every engine note made him imagine another loosened screw.

At dusk Bellon returned.

"Your sergeant has disappeared."

Luc hid his reaction.

Perrin was supposed to be searching Roche's office while attention focused on the arrest.

"Convenient," Bellon said. "Your closest superior flees after your arrest."

"Perhaps he dislikes your questions."

Bellon almost smiled.

Then a shell landed close enough to shake dust from the ceiling.

The German artillery began ranging the aerodrome.

The bombardment lasted fifteen minutes. During it, the guard outside Luc's room left to help move equipment.

The door opened.

Perrin stood there.

"Come."

"You found it?"

"Better."

They crossed the yard under shellfire. Perrin had stolen Roche's dispatch case.

Inside the hangar, Luc opened it.

There were blank victory confirmation forms bearing Delorme's signature.

Maintenance sheets with signatures practised repeatedly in the margins: Besson, Chardin, Luc Moreau.

A ledger of payments from Savarin's company disguised as "consulting expenses."

And a list of pilots.

Beside each name were numbers and notes.

Fabre — 17 — hostile — resolved. Roussel — 9 — transferred. Valette — 7 — claims to suppress. Vautrin — 12 — remove before 15 May. Moreau — mechanic — liability.

Luc stared at the last word.

"This is enough," Perrin said.

A voice behind them answered, "Yes. It is."

Roche stood in the hangar entrance holding a pistol.