way – maybe the only way – to find out who may have harmed her, and why.’
Chapter Fifteen
Alain fumbled with his keys as he led Trent in through the front door of the villa. He found the one he was looking for, then inserted it into the deadlock on a door immediately to Trent’s left. The tumblers tumbled and Alain passed inside and hit a light switch on the wall but Trent didn’t follow straight away. He was staring at the ring of keys left hanging from the lock.
Most of them were standard house keys. But one was different. It was small and stubby, fashioned from aged brass. Trent was pretty sure it would fit the locks on Jérôme’s desk. And it was right there in front of him.
He reached out a tentative hand but Alain chose that very moment to stick his head back into the foyer.
‘What are you waiting for?’
Trent closed his fingers into a fist. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Go ahead.’
The room was very cramped. Little more than a cupboard. It was only just big enough for the two men to squeeze inside. It was windowless. The air was stale and the only light source was a twitching fluorescent tube fitted to the low ceiling above. There was a desk, a stool, a microphone and a bank of security monitors.
Trent counted twelve monitors, laid out in three rows of four screens. The screens were small. A different image was flickering on each one. Most were colour. The rest had the green-grey wash of night-vision technology. They were fewer in number, located in areas where there were no security lights.
After ten seconds or so, the screens blanked out for an instant before new footage appeared. Another ten seconds and the screens cycled back to the images Trent had first seen. That gave a total of twenty-four cameras.
The images were all exterior shots. On a quick glance, Trent could see the lighted perimeter of the villa, the swimming pool, the driveway and the view from the fence. A digital clock located in the bottom right-hand corner of each monitor read 03.40.
There’d been far more security cameras than Trent had realised. Those inside the gate were well hidden and he guessed that made sense. The cameras on the fence were there as a deterrent. The rest were designed to capture the movements of anyone who managed to sneak inside.
He leaned towards the monitors, studying the buildings that came up on screen. He could see the main villa, the pool house, the garage and what he took to be the cottage where the housekeeper lived. They were all in colour. But there was another structure, too. A squat and slanted timber building with a bowed roof. Rendered in the ghoulish green of night vision, it was surrounded by a thin copse of blurred trees.
The view Trent was looking at showed a rickety door with shuttered windows on either side. Then the screen went blank, replaced by another angle of the shack, this time from the rear. Two windows this time. One of them was shuttered. The other was boarded up with planks of wood that had been roughly tacked across it. It looked like a cabin from a fairy tale, or maybe a horror movie.
There was no way of telling where the cabin might be found. The tree cover didn’t jibe with anything Trent had seen so far.
Alain tapped the microphone bud. ‘This is how I talked to you at the gate. And from here,’ he said, passing his hand over a control panel that was positioned beneath the bottom rank of monitors, ‘I can review everything from the last seven days.’
The controls looked relatively straightforward. There was a grid of numbered buttons, a digital display, a series of switches and several plastic dials.
‘Do you move the cameras by remote?’ Trent asked. He was thinking of the way his progress along the perimeter fence had been tracked.
‘It’s possible.’ Alain’s skin was bleached in the fluorescence from the ceiling light. Trent could see his scalp through his cropped hair. ‘But they’re also fitted with sensors that can capture movement. I prefer
Chapter Fifteen
Alain fumbled with his keys as he led Trent in through the front door of the villa. He found the one he was looking for, then inserted it into the deadlock on a door immediately to Trent’s left. The tumblers tumbled and Alain passed inside and hit a light switch on the wall but Trent didn’t follow straight away. He was staring at the ring of keys left hanging from the lock.
Most of them were standard house keys. But one was different. It was small and stubby, fashioned from aged brass. Trent was pretty sure it would fit the locks on Jérôme’s desk. And it was right there in front of him.
He reached out a tentative hand but Alain chose that very moment to stick his head back into the foyer.
‘What are you waiting for?’
Trent closed his fingers into a fist. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Go ahead.’
The room was very cramped. Little more than a cupboard. It was only just big enough for the two men to squeeze inside. It was windowless. The air was stale and the only light source was a twitching fluorescent tube fitted to the low ceiling above. There was a desk, a stool, a microphone and a bank of security monitors.
Trent counted twelve monitors, laid out in three rows of four screens. The screens were small. A different image was flickering on each one. Most were colour. The rest had the green-grey wash of night-vision technology. They were fewer in number, located in areas where there were no security lights.
After ten seconds or so, the screens blanked out for an instant before new footage appeared. Another ten seconds and the screens cycled back to the images Trent had first seen. That gave a total of twenty-four cameras.
The images were all exterior shots. On a quick glance, Trent could see the lighted perimeter of the villa, the swimming pool, the driveway and the view from the fence. A digital clock located in the bottom right-hand corner of each monitor read 03.40.
There’d been far more security cameras than Trent had realised. Those inside the gate were well hidden and he guessed that made sense. The cameras on the fence were there as a deterrent. The rest were designed to capture the movements of anyone who managed to sneak inside.
He leaned towards the monitors, studying the buildings that came up on screen. He could see the main villa, the pool house, the garage and what he took to be the cottage where the housekeeper lived. They were all in colour. But there was another structure, too. A squat and slanted timber building with a bowed roof. Rendered in the ghoulish green of night vision, it was surrounded by a thin copse of blurred trees.
The view Trent was looking at showed a rickety door with shuttered windows on either side. Then the screen went blank, replaced by another angle of the shack, this time from the rear. Two windows this time. One of them was shuttered. The other was boarded up with planks of wood that had been roughly tacked across it. It looked like a cabin from a fairy tale, or maybe a horror movie.
There was no way of telling where the cabin might be found. The tree cover didn’t jibe with anything Trent had seen so far.
Alain tapped the microphone bud. ‘This is how I talked to you at the gate. And from here,’ he said, passing his hand over a control panel that was positioned beneath the bottom rank of monitors, ‘I can review everything from the last seven days.’
The controls looked relatively straightforward. There was a grid of numbered buttons, a digital display, a series of switches and several plastic dials.
‘Do you move the cameras by remote?’ Trent asked. He was thinking of the way his progress along the perimeter fence had been tracked.
‘It’s possible.’ Alain’s skin was bleached in the fluorescence from the ceiling light. Trent could see his scalp through his cropped hair. ‘But they’re also fitted with sensors that can capture movement. I prefer
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