Héloïse is alone in the restaurant at this early hour. She has kept an eye out for Pierre from her table and stands up to greet him nervously. She has no memory of this large and solidly built man who offers her his enormous hand. She looks, squinting, at his tired face hidden by metal-framed glasses that are slightly too large for him. She notices the piercing blue eyes behind. Héloïse begins talking before they sit down.
“I think my mother told you ... this is a rather unusual situation, isn’t it?”
No answer. Pierre looks at Héloïse who, fidgeting, has spilt some salt on the tablecloth. She goes on, her voice unsure.
“I can’t believe that anyone in the company would do something reprehensible, but Thierry Ambi’s disappearance is so strange. You’ll have to question the employees, but I don’t know under what pretext, or even whether they’ll talk to you. How to find out where he is? How to get in touch with him again? His family hasn’t contacted us, and we have no way of reaching them. And without their approval, I can’t go to the police. I want to know what’s happened to him in order to explain things to a potential buyer.”
“You want to sell the company,” Pierre says slowly, without the slightest hint of curiosity.
“To sell it or to find someone to run the place. The easiest thing, of course, would be to sell. My mother wants nothing at all to do with the business anymore. My grandmother is elderly, and I think she will soon need to cash in her shares to move into a decent seniors’ home, though she wouldn’t admit it. As for me, I know nothing at all about business. I’ve only agreed to run the place in the interim. I’ve already had to give up some of my musical activities, and I don’t want this to continue for too long. In any case, it is not my profession, and I don’t want to risk the employees losing their jobs because I don’t know how to read a drawing or design furniture.”
“And who says that this isn’t exactly what someone is trying to make you do?”
Héloïse looks startled. “What do you mean, ‘someone’?”
Pierre leans back slightly, and begins to explain in a soft voice. “When you’re trying to come to grips with a new situation—to begin to understand what’s going on—you need to start by considering the extremes.”
He sees Héloïse’s brow wrinkle. “To consider the extremes means to analyze opposites to determine the boundaries of the case. In your case, there are already two that we can look at. Either Thierry Ambi has deliberately put himself in this situation, or he has been forced into it. Within these two scenarios, all sorts of circumstances can be imagined: he’s gone into hiding because he’s committed some kind of fraud; he’s trying to escape from gangsters who are making his family keep quiet; he and his family all died in an accident, and they haven’t been found yet, etc. All the possibilities must be considered with equal rigor. Only evidence will allow us, little by little, to eventually favor one hypothesis over the others.”
Seeing Héloïse’s brow relaxing, Pierre carries on. “I’ve thought about how to investigate these two scenarios simultaneously. I suggest the following. I’ll register with an association of retired business executives, so that I can work openly at H. Rami as a consultant. These days, more and more young retirees want to transmit their experience to younger business people. There’s one such association in your area. As for you, you’ll ask your colleagues which aspects of the business they want to improve and tell them that you’ll be bringing me in as consultant to help you. You will tell me what the expertise is that I’m meant to have, and I’ll read up on it so I can ask questions using the proper vocabulary. I’m used to doing this. Try and find a particular topic that will allow me to stick my nose everywhere and to ask your employees all sorts of questions without arousing their suspicions.”
Héloïse nods, and he continues. “All I ask is that you pay my mileage. My brother lives just south of Tours, and I can stay with him when I need to be at H. Rami for several days in a row. Paul used to run a garage but ended up as a warehouse manager with a big company. He always has room for me.”
“I remember him. He serviced my Fiat 500, years ago.”
“Really? He also found me my new ‘collector’s’ car.” He points at it through the window. “It’s convenient to have a mechanic in the family, isn’t it? In the meantime I will make inquiries about Thierry Ambi’s family and piece together what he was doing over the summer. Using the information that you and your mother gave me, I’ve already learned that he is married to a Canadian and has a seventeen-year-old son. I still have friends on the police force who could point me in the right direction to find out more. Finally, I’ll make some inquiries about the company that he was working for before your father lured him away.”
Héloïse approves in silence.
“You will, of course, let me have access to all the documents at H. Rami that I require, and you will not tell anyone about my real activities under any circumstances. In a month or two, possibly three—but I make no guarantees—you will probably have sufficient information to know whether or not you will ever see Thierry Ambi again. He may, for that matter, simply turn up again on his own. In any case, this gives you the time to start looking for a buyer. But if that comes to pass, you mustn’t kid yourself. Getting a good price for any small business is very hard to do these days.”
Héloïse keeps quiet. She is reassured by the harmonious tone and rhythm of Pierre’s voice. Ever since she began studying music, she has developed one gift more precious than any other: the ability to recognize masters—those who know their subject inside and out—by the way they pitch their voice. She can hear when a voice is the link between heart and brain. Then she knows how to listen and do exactly as that person suggests. Even when she doesn’t understand everything, she knows how to trust and wait until she understands later. This was how she had been able to catch up with several years of music study. She became a professor of music theory at a young age and was respected by everyone in the conservatory— except the director, who felt threatened by any colleagues with outstanding talent.
The rest of their lunch meeting is relaxed. Héloïse is impressed by Pierre’s elegance and amused at the shape of his nose—like a slab of Brie, her grandmother would say fondly. He talks of Touraine wines and of the vineyards themselves, which would be harvested soon. He speaks of the stone—the tuffeau—and the constant temperature of the wine cellars along the Loire. Fascinated by his huge hands, Héloïse wonders which instrument he might have played.
Back at the factory, Héloïse convenes a meeting with the usual management staff and asks Léon, in charge of purchasing, to join them. She remembers that he wasn’t at the previous meeting, even though his role seemed just as important as other people’s.
“I’ve asked you all here today to tell you what I’ve decided to do. As the acting president, and with the support of my grandmother, who is the other shareholder in the company, I have decided to look for a buyer. In the meantime, a consultant will be coming in to help us improve our situation so we can sell in the best possible condition. This is to ensure the future of the business, as well as your jobs—”
“A consultant! Won’t that be too expensive?” Georgette is unable to contain herself. She bites her lip.
“The consultant is a retired businessman who now volunteers with an association that assists directors of small businesses. We only have to pay his travel expenses. Right now, I need your input concerning specific areas he should help us with. We’ll go around the table. Jean-Marc, why don’t you start?”
Jean-Marc thinks for a moment. He glances around the room surreptitiously and fidgets in his chair. “I’d like the consultant to tell us how to get the workers to go faster. Even if you tell them ten times a day,