“What happened to your headlight, Monsieur Allon?”
“Vandalism.”
“Corsicans,” muttered Monjean disdainfully.
“Imagine how they feel about you Marseillais.”
“They can’t stand us. But then again, Corsicans can’t stand anyone. That’s why they’re Corsicans.” Monjean lit a cigarette and eyed Gabriel through a cloud of smoke. “You, however, seem to be quite well connected on the island.”
“It pays to have friends like Don Orsati in my line of work.”
“And what is your game these days?”
“I’m an art conservator. But in my spare time, I help the police solve art-related crimes.”
“That’s interesting,” said Monjean. “In my spare time, I sometimes commit art-related crimes.”
“Stolen anything lately, René?”
“That depends on the ground rules of our relationship.”
“One hand washes the other and both hands wash the face.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a Corsican proverb. It means that I will use you as a source or an operative, but I will never breathe a word about you to my friends in the French police. Or any other police force, for that matter. Everything will be entre nous.”
“What about money?”
“It doesn’t come from singing.”
“Another Corsican proverb?”
Gabriel nodded. “I’ll pay you whatever you want. Provided, of course, your fee is within reason.”
“It would depend on the nature of the job and the value of the target.”
“I need you to steal a few documents from a law firm in Monaco.”
“How many?”
“Several million.”
Monjean laughed. “How am I supposed to carry several million documents out of an office building in Monaco?”
“You’re going to copy them off a digital storage device.”
“It’s not my thing, Monsieur Allon. I steal objects, not data.”
“But it’s Ingrid’s thing.”
“The woman from the other night?”
Gabriel nodded. “She’s a professional.”
“How do we get into the building?”
“Philippe will open the doors remotely. You’ll walk in, copy the documents, and walk out again.”
“How long will it take?”
“Three or four hours.”
“A lot can go wrong in four hours.”
“Or four minutes,” added Gabriel.
Monjean lapsed into silence.
“Any more questions, René?”
“Just one.”
“Fire away.”
“How do you know Don Orsati?”
“Someone hired him to kill me a long time ago.”
