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here, and he guessed it was from a car or small van rather than a truck. Whether the details would be enough for Dr Rizzotti to make anything of, he wasn’t sure. But it was a start. Somebody had been here just before or just after a murder had been committed. And that spelt opportunity. All he had to do now was find motive and who might have benefitted.
    He stood up and walked across the road, trying to read the scene from a distance. If the driver had been careful, he could have driven down from the direction of the road leading to Amiens and left his car here where it wouldn’t have been noticed, then used the moped, perhaps slung in the back of a van, to travel the short distance to the Clos du Lac. After completion of his task, he could have ridden the moped back here, disposed of it in the ditch, then driven calmly away, with nobody any the wiser other than hearing engine noises in the night.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    The Clos du Lac looked unnaturally quiet when they drew to a stop in the car park; unnatural in the way that deserted buildings have no warmth, no sense of human occupation, no vibrancy. Even the birds had fallen silent. There was no sign of Levignier or his men, and the pool house was closed, with a chain and padlock through the double handles barring the way inside.
    With a sense of foreboding, Rocco led the way through the main entrance. The air was cool inside, the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the tiled floor. He looked round. No sign of a bell to signal their arrival, so he walked along the corridor towards the kitchen where he’d first seen nurse Dion.
    A woman in an apron was sitting at the table, drinking coffee. A mop and bucket stood nearby. The woman looked up and brushed at her cheek. She was plump and rosy-cheeked, with greying hair, and looked faintly lost.
    ‘Can I help you?’
    ‘I’d like to see nurse Dion or Director Drucker, please,’ Rocco said politely. ‘Tell them it’s Inspector Rocco.’
    The woman put down her coffee cup and stood up. ‘Sorry – I wish I could. But there’s nobody here.’
    Rocco frowned. ‘Where are they?’
    ‘If I knew that, I’d tell you.’ She waved a hand around. ‘I got here fifteen minutes ago, ready to put dinner on for the evening as usual, and do a bit of cleaning. But the place was empty. Everyone’s gone. Looks like I’m out of a job.’
    ‘What about the patients?’
    She sat down again with a sigh, as if her legs had failed her. ‘Them, too. All gone. Do you believe in flying saucers and … what do they call it – alien abduction? I never did, until now.’
    Rocco looked at Alix. ‘Wait here. I’ll be back.’ He left the kitchen and raced up the stairs, following the corridor through to the back and checking rooms as he went. Some showed signs of recent occupancy, with bedclothes thrown back and wardrobe doors flung open. Other rooms were stripped bare and cold, evidently unused. Everywhere else had an air of hasty evacuation.
    He found an office. It looked bare of anything helpful; a desk, two comfortable visitors’ chairs, two filing cabinets and a bookcase. But no paperwork of any kind.
    He ran back downstairs and checked the ground floor rooms. A library, a large lounge area, a games room with a pool table and two smaller rooms he guessed were reading areas, both looking out to the rear of the building.
    All empty.
    He turned and went back to the kitchen. The woman and Alix were sitting in silence.
    ‘Do you have telephone numbers for Dion or Director Drucker?’ he asked.
    The woman pursed her lips. ‘Never needed them,’ she replied. ‘Someone’s always here normally. Except today. I just cook and clean. What’s been going on – and why’s the pool chained up?’
    ‘There’s a problem with the water.’ Rocco had a thought. ‘How did you get here?’
    ‘My husband dropped me off, same as always. I live in Fonzet. I’d come on my bike, but my back’s playing up. What kind of problem?’
    ‘A patient