After Lavoie had finished talking, he picked up the phone and asked someone to call Marshal Machaud.
"Thank you, Gracie," he concluded in a low voice and hung up.
He opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a stick of licorice: he put it to his mouth and ran his hands through his dark hair, tired.
"So you can assure me that this Merlonghi is the man they found dead on June 15," he summed up, with a nod of the chin towards Zoe and Matteo. Alex and Fede turned to them,
"Yes."
Lavoie weighed them up: he rocked in the armchair with his eyes fixed on the two of them, the licorice clenched between his teeth.
The door of the office opened and a girl with honey-colored hair wearing a suit looked inside: Lavoie straightened his back and removed the licorice.
"The Sheriff, Sergeant."
