"I don't think so. We don't have a shred of evidence that Guerrier was assassinated. The autopsy is clean. Boucher needs no alibi."
"But his claim that Villon was present in Quebec; what purpose does it serve?"
"None that we can figure, yet his conviction is unshakable."
"The man was obviously hallucinating," said Sarveux.
Finn leaned forward in his chair. "He isn't insane, Mr. Sarveux. That's the catch. Boucher demanded to take truth serum and be placed under hypnosis and given a lie detector test." Finn took a deep breath.
"We called his bluff, but the results proved conclusively he wasn't bluffing. Boucher was telling the truth."
Sarveux stared at him speechlessly.
"I wish I could say the Mounties have all the answers, but we don't," Finn admitted. "The house was swept by our laboratory people. With one exception, the only fingerprints they turned up belonged to Guerrier, Boucher, the maid and the cook. Regrettably all prints found on the bedroom door knob were smudged."
"You mentioned an exception."
"We found a strange impression from a right index finger on the front-door chime. We have yet to identify it."
"Doesn't prove a thing," said Sarveux. "It could have been made by a tradesman, a postman or even one of your people during the investigation."
Finn smiled. "If that were the case, the computer in our ID section would have a make in two seconds or less. No, this is someone we don't have on file." He paused to study a page in the folder. "Interestingly enough, we have an approximate time when persons unknown rang the chimes. Guerrier's secretary, a Mrs. Molly Saban, brought him a bowl of chicken soup to fight off the flu. She arrived around eight-thirly, punched the chime button, delivered the soup to Boucher and left. She was wearing gloves, so the next bare finger to come along left a clear impression."
"Chicken soup," said Sarveux, shaking his head. nature's cure-all." The eter'Thanks to Mrs. Saban, we know that someone approached Guerrier's home sometime after eight-thirty of the night he died."
"If we accept Boucher's word, how could Villon be in two places at once?"
"I haven't a clue."
"The investigation, is it formally closed?"
Finn nodded. "There was little to be gained by continuing."
"I want you to reopen it."
Finn's only reaction was a marginal lift of one eyebrow. "Sir?"
"There may be something to Boucher's story aft
er all," said Sarveux. He passed Shaw's report across the desk to Finn. "I've just received this from an agent in the British secret service. It suggests a connection between Henri Villon and a known killer. See if there is any substance to the possibility. Also, I'd like your people to conduct another autopsy."
Finn's other eyebrow came up. "Obtaining an exhumation order could prove a messy business."
"There will be no exhumation order," said Sarveux curtly.
"I understand, Prime Minister," said Finn, catching Sarveux's drift. "The affair will be handled under tight security. I'll personally see to the details."
Finn inserted the reports in his briefcase and stood up to leave.
"There is one more thing," said Sarveux.
"Yes, Prime Minister."
"How long have you known of my wife's affair with Villon?"
Finn's normally inscrutable features took on a pained look. "Well, sir . . . ah, it came to my attention nearly two years ago."
"And you did not come to me?"