Chapter 12 - THE OFFICER WHO LIEDDaniel Roche had spent thirty years telling himself he was a coward.
Now Camille wondered whether he had been something worse.
She placed the photograph on Thomas's desk.
Daniel stared at it.
His face turned gray.
“Where did you find this?”
“The blue room.”
He sat down slowly.
Camille remained standing.
“You told me you were a young police officer investigating Lucien's disappearance.”
“I was.”
“Then why does this photograph identify you as the project's security liaison?”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Because I worked for the foundation.”
Silence.
Camille felt a sharp wave of betrayal.
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
Camille shook her head.
“That isn't enough.”
Daniel nodded.
“No. It isn't.”
Thomas sat opposite him.
“Start from the beginning.”
Daniel looked at the photograph.
“In 1995, I was assigned to a private security arrangement involving several medical facilities. Officially, the project was supposed to protect confidential research data.”
“Did you know children were being transferred illegally?”
“Not at first.”
“When did you find out?”
“After Lucien came to me.”
Camille stared.
“So you were already working for Étienne when my father asked for help?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
“And you told your superior?”
“Yes.”
“Knowing he was involved?”
Daniel's eyes filled with tears.
“I didn't know how deeply.”
Camille turned away.
The explanation sounded painfully familiar.
Everyone had known part of the truth.
Everyone had underestimated the danger.
And every mistake had cost someone else dearly.
Daniel continued.
“After Lucien disappeared, I realized the foundation had used me. I had provided security schedules and access information that helped them locate him.”
Thomas looked up.
“Did you knowingly assist in his assault?”
“No.”
“Can you prove that?”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not completely.”
Camille turned back.
“Then why should we believe you?”
Daniel looked directly at her.
“You shouldn't believe me because I say I'm sorry. You should examine the evidence.”
He opened his messenger bag.
Inside was a small notebook.
“Every payment I received. Every assignment. Every name I could remember.”
Thomas took it.
“Why didn't you give this to investigators?”
“I tried in 1998. The complaint was buried.”
“Did you keep copies?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Daniel looked at Camille.
“In a bank deposit box.”
Camille stared.
“Another hidden box.”
Daniel nodded sadly.
“I suppose secrets became the only language any of us knew.”
Juliette stood near the window.
She had remained silent throughout the conversation.
Now she turned.
“Did you know about me?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Yes.”
“Did you know where I was?”
“Not until years later.”
“Did you ever tell my mother?”
“No.”
Juliette's face tightened.
“Why?”
“Because I believed the people watching her would retaliate.”
Juliette shook her head.
“You don't get to decide what my mother deserved to know.”
Daniel lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
Camille looked at her sister.
For the first time, she saw how different their grief was.
Camille had lost the mother she knew.
Juliette had lost the mother she never had the chance to meet.
Neither loss could be measured against the other.
Thomas closed the notebook.
“Daniel, you'll need to make a full statement.”
“I will.”
“And you may face charges.”
“I understand.”
Camille studied him.
“Will you still help us?”
Daniel nodded.
“If you'll let me.”
Camille considered the question.
She did not trust him.
Not completely.
Perhaps she never would.
But she understood that truth sometimes required testimony from people who had done terrible things.
“Help the investigators,” she said.
“Not us.”
Daniel accepted the distinction.
“Fair enough.”
That evening, Thomas received news.
Henri Vasseur had been located.
He was living in a private retirement residence near Bordeaux.
Now eighty-three, he was in poor health.
But he was still mentally alert.
Investigators had questioned him.
At first, he denied everything.
Then they showed him the documents from the blue room.
His response had been immediate.
He asked for a lawyer.
Then he requested to speak privately with Camille and Juliette.
Thomas looked at the sisters.
“You don't have to agree.”
Camille looked at Juliette.
“What do you think?”
Juliette hesitated.
“I want to know why.”
Camille nodded.
“So do I.”
The following morning, they traveled to Bordeaux with Thomas.
Vasseur sat in a wheelchair beside a large window.
His hands were thin.
His face deeply lined.
But his eyes remained sharp.
He looked at the sisters for a long time.
Then whispered.
“Lucien's daughters.”
Camille felt anger rise.
“You knew our father.”
Vasseur nodded.
“Yes.”
“You helped destroy his life.”
“Yes.”
Juliette stepped forward.
“Why?”
The old man closed his eyes.
“Because I believed I could control something that had already become monstrous.”
Camille stared.
“You helped steal children.”
Vasseur nodded.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Money. Influence. Fear.”
His voice shook.
“And because every time I considered telling the truth, I convinced myself it was too late.”
Juliette looked at him.
“It wasn't too late for us.”
Vasseur lowered his head.
“No.”
Camille leaned forward.
“Where is Étienne?”
The old man looked toward the window.
“I don't know.”
“Then what do you know?”
Vasseur swallowed.
“There's one more thing about your father.”
Camille froze.
“What?”
“He discovered the project before the twins were born.”
Juliette frowned.
“Then why didn't he stop it?”
“He tried.”
“How?”
“He collected evidence. He planned to expose the foundation.”
Camille leaned closer.
“What happened?”
Vasseur's eyes filled with tears.
“Étienne learned about the evidence.”
“And?”
“He ordered Lucien killed.”
Camille felt sick.
“But Lucien survived.”
“Yes.”
Vasseur looked directly at her.
“Because someone intervened.”
“Who?”
The old man hesitated.
Then whispered.
“Your mother.”
Camille stared.
May you like
Vasseur continued.
“Élise saved Lucien's life. But to do it, she had to surrender Juliette.”
