Though the weapon felt as if it were trying to bore into his skull, he didn’t flinch or beg for mercy. Instead he met the young man’s gaze and spoke with quiet assurance. ‘My name is Alain Borell and I wish to see Guillaume Lizier.’ ‘Why?’ snapped the other. ‘I am an old friend of his.’ ‘You’re a liar. My father often talks about his friends and I’ve never heard any mention of you. I think you’re an impostor.’ ‘There’s a simple way to prove who I am,’ said Daniel, ‘and that’s to bring your father here. I’m sure he’ll vouch for me.’ ‘What do you want from him?’ ‘I’m hoping that he’ll be able to help me.’ ‘So that’s it,’ sneered the young man. ‘You’ve fallen on hard times and you’ve come to wheedle some money out of us.’ ‘I want no money.’ ‘Then what are you after?’ As the pistol was pressed ever harder against his forehead, Daniel held his ground. He looked deep into the young man’s eyes. Behind the anger and the bravado, he detected a flicker of doubt.
