‘Good morning, madam, can I see your passport please?’ the young man said.
‘Good morning,’ I replied, handing over the document. I hoped he wouldn’t notice my trembling hands.
The official checked the photo, scanned my passport and gave it back to me. Then he gestured for me to move towards the French booth where a lady sat behind the counter.
‘Good morning,’ she said, calling me forward.
I handed over my documents. The lady looked at my photo then stamped the passport before giving it back to me.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
‘Have a pleasant trip,’ she replied.
That was it; I was through passport control with my made-to-order, fake British passport. I’d passed the security checks with frightening ease and was shocked that it had been that simple. It was scary to think how many career criminals and terrorists were exploiting the system. Within thirty seconds, Nathan had done the same, and he came to stand next to me.
‘Let’s go and find the Business Premier carriage,’ Nathan said, taking hold of my hand.
Alfie had booked us seats at a table for two. We sat down, facing each other, and once we were on the move, a waiter brought over a bottle of champagne.
‘On behalf of everyone on board, I’d like to offer you both our congratulations on your wedding anniversary,’ he said.
Nathan and I looked at each other. It wasn’t our anniversary, but we weren’t about to say no to a free bottle of bubbly. Alfie must have arranged this. It was no doubt part of his elaborate plan.
The waiter placed the ice bucket down on the table and popped the cork. Filling the first glass, he handed it to me.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
I took the flute from his hand, but as I lifted the glass to my lips, I paused before I took a sip. Would Alfie add the cost of this champagne to our debt? Probably, but right now I didn’t care about that. I needed a drink after what we’d been through. My nerves were shot to pieces.
20
Gemma
Alfie had booked us a room at the George V. The Four Seasons Hotel was right in the centre of Paris, steps from the Champs-Élysées. We weren’t used to such five-star luxury, but Alfie was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life.
Nathan and I checked in, and a porter took us to an incredible room on the second floor. It was bright and spacious with cream-coloured walls, a thick, pale grey damask carpet and eighteenth-century-inspired furniture. An enormous bed stood on the far side, covered by an ivory silk bedspread and matching cushions.
‘I trust you have everything you need to enjoy your stay,’ the young man said in a smooth French accent. ‘If not, please don’t hesitate to contact reception.’
As soon as we were alone, Nathan checked out the walk-in wardrobe and marble bathroom with freestanding bath and twin sinks. I lay down on the bed and looked up at the magnificent crystal chandelier with large faceted droplets, suspended from an ornate plaster ceiling rose in the centre of the room. I wondered how long it would be before we were disturbed. A knock on the door followed as if someone had just read my mind.
Nathan crossed the room and opened the polished mahogany door. Alfie stood on the other side dressed in his trademark smart suit, flanked by Knuckles and Tommy.
‘Aren’t you going to invite us in?’ Alfie said, and a smile spread across his face.
My heart sank at the sight of him. I reluctantly got to my feet when Nathan stepped to one side and allowed them in.
Alfie walked over to the large, airy windows, framed by full-length pewter curtains. ‘What do you think of the room?’ he asked while admiring the incredible view of the hotel gardens. ‘I spared no expense.’
‘I’ve stayed in worse.’
Nathan’s barbed comment made me nervous. Why had he said that? Throwing an insult in Alfie’s direction wasn’t a smart thing to do, given his unpredictable nature. But as luck would have it, instead of reacting angrily to it, Alfie decided to ignore it and laughed it off.
‘I’m glad you like it, but don’t get too comfortable, we’ve got work to do. I’ll meet you down in the lobby in fifteen minutes,’ Alfie said, checking his watch before sauntering out of the door.
*
It was mild for November, I thought as we stepped out of the hotel and walked towards the Place de la Concorde. Alfie had told us to stay behind him and behave like tourists. So we did as instructed and took photos on our phones of the street performers on the wide pavements of the Champs-Élysées. While we were taking a selfie in front of the Arc de Triomphe, I began thinking about what Alfie had planned for us. At that moment, he turned his head and looked over his shoulder towards us. Not for the first time, I wondered if he’d just read my mind. The thought of that put me on edge.
‘We won’t be doing any shopping today,’ Alfie said, ‘but I’ll show you where you’ll be going tomorrow.’
Up until that point, I’d been enjoying our time in Paris. But the good feelings I’d had suddenly disappeared while we strolled through the Jardin des Tuileries. The season’s last foliage looked beautiful bathed in an amber glow as the afternoon sunlight filtered through it. But even that couldn’t take my mind off tomorrow’s job, no matter how much I tried to block it from my head. Nathan could sense my apprehension and took hold of my hand. We passed the Louvre, and walked in silence along the banks of the river Seine, towards the Opéra quarter.
Alfie stopped outside a building on the Place Vendôme, one of the city’s most famous and beautiful neoclassical squares. ‘This is Boucheron’s flagship store. It’s where they keep all the best pieces.’
Nathan and I looked at each other. Then I turned away from him and stared through the window of the impressive shop front with ornate columns, crystal chandeliers, and potted orchids, to familiarise myself with the interior.
*
Nathan and I didn’t normally eat four-course dinners in fancy restaurants, served by waiters dressed in tailcoats, but tonight, that’s exactly what we did. Le Cinq had three Michelin stars, but it wasn’t the food I was thinking about when I looked around the marble-floored room filled with palm trees. The place was incredible. We were finishing our coffee when a text message came through on the mobile Alfie had given me earlier.
I take it you’ve enjoyed the best that money can buy. Now it’s time to go to your room.
*
I stood by the bedroom window mesmerised by thousands of twinkling fairy lights strung around the hotel gardens, while Nathan poured us each a glass of wine.
‘Sorry to disturb your romantic evening,’ Alfie said, letting himself into our room and pushing his way past Nathan. ‘I need to run over the plan; then you should get some sleep.’
It was only nine o’clock. I hadn’t been to bed that early since I was a child.
‘When you go to Boucheron’s tomorrow Nathan’s going with you.’
Nathan and I looked at each other. I wondered why we were going together. The change of routine raised a lot of questions in my mind, but I couldn’t think of a way to ask them, so I said nothing.
‘Now listen carefully, you’re going to swap this lump of glass for the ten-carat cushion-cut diamond solitaire they have for sale. It costs five hundred thousand euros because the quality of the diamond is so rare and unflawed,’ Alfie said, handing me a ring with a large, single stone.
How did he expect me to switch that? They might not even let me try on a ring of that value, and even if they did, it was going to be protected by so much security, it would be impossible to steal.
‘Both of you need to dress the part tomorrow, wear something smart. You know the routine by now, Gemma. You’re an old hand at this.’ Alfie laughed, implying I was some kind of career criminal.
‘Why are both of us going shopping this time?’
‘I thought you might appreciate some company as this is the biggest job yet. But if you’d prefer to go alone, that can be arranged…’ Alfie smiled before he walked out of our room.
/> It was going to be a long night. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get much sleep. All I could think about was tomorrow’s job.
21
Gemma
Nathan and I walked into L’Orangerie as soon as it opened at 7.00am. We were shown to a table overlooking the marble courtyard, where vivid green ferns and dwarf orange trees contrasted with the black planters and furniture. Sitting in the early morning sunshine, in the art deco style glass and steel conservatory, I tried to calm my nerves by taking in the beautiful view.
‘Bonjour, madame,’ the waiter said.
‘Bonjour.’
‘Are you ready to order?’
‘Yes, can I have a full American breakfast, please?’
‘Certainly and what would you like, monsieur?’
‘I’ll have the same, please,’ Nathan replied.
The waiter brought us our food along with freshly squeezed orange juice, assorted berries and a chocolate croissant, but I struggled to eat any of it. It looked delicious, but my nerves were affecting my appetite. I felt sick. The sooner this was over with, the better.
*
Nathan squeezed my hand as we stood on the pavement outside Boucheron. Once inside the luxurious interior, we made our way to an enormous display cabinet; its contents glittered under the light of the chandeliers. Almost instantly, a young man approached us.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I hope so. We’re looking for something very specific,’ Nathan replied, oozing confidence as he spoke.
‘What did you have in mind, monsieur?’
‘Unfortunately, my wife lost her engagement ring recently. She’s understandably very upset about it, so I want to replace it.’ Nathan took charge of the conversation as we’d agreed.
‘I am sorry to hear that.’
‘The ring was a ten-carat diamond set in platinum. Would you have anything like that available?’ Nathan asked.
The sales assistant’s eyes widened. He knew a ring like that cost a lot of money. ‘I’m sure I’ll be able to find something suitable for you,’ he replied, barely disguising his smile.
‘Thank you,’ Nathan said, putting his arm around my shoulder.
The assistant opened the cabinet, protected by multiple surveillance domes, and took a beautiful ring from the display and handed it to me. ‘How about this one, madame?’
I slipped it onto my finger and admired how it looked. ‘I do like it, but for sentimental reasons, I’d prefer to get an exact replacement if possible.’ I sighed, knowing that the setting was wrong. ‘My ring was a solitaire; it didn’t have diamonds surrounding it like this one.’
Placing the ring back in the cabinet, the assistant handed me another. ‘Was it more like this one?’
‘Yes, very similar,’ I replied, locking eyes with Nathan. Now we had the ring Alfie wanted; we needed to make the swap.
It didn’t take long for the store manager to realise a large sale was about to take place and he hurried over. He smiled and introduced himself to us.
‘Excuse me one moment,’ the manager said before turning towards the assistant serving us.
While they were having a brief conversation in French, I took the opportunity to switch the rings, but I couldn’t locate the replica in my cavernous bag. I took a step back from the glass and tried to catch Nathan’s eye so he’d know something was wrong.
‘It’s a beautiful ring, darling. It’s just like the one you lost. But I think you should try some other rings on as well before you decide.’
I handed back the solitaire. Hopefully, another opportunity would present itself for me to try and switch the ring again.
‘What about that one?’ Nathan pointed to a large square-cut emerald ring.
‘You have excellent taste, sir,’ the manager said, muscling in on the sale. He tilted the exquisite platinum set ring, so that the halo of diamond pavé surrounding the main stone caught the light. ‘All our gems are ethically sourced and certified for your peace of mind.’
Nathan pulled back the sleeve of his navy Armani suit and checked the time on his TAG Heuer watch. ‘We’re about to spend a lot of money, so I want to make sure you’re happy. Why don’t you decide which one you’d prefer over lunch?’ Nathan smiled, but judging by the anxious-looking manager’s face, he didn’t agree. He was keen to close the sale.
I held the ring between my thumb and forefinger. My eyes lingered on it before I handed it back.
‘Thank you for your help – we’ll see you shortly,’ Nathan said, shaking the manager by the hand.
My husband put his hand on the small of my back and guided me towards the door, oblivious to the fact that I’d just messed up the switch. Panic started to rise within me and stopped me thinking straight. My head began swimming as we stepped out of the store, and quickly lost ourselves in the crowd of people, walking along the wide pavement. My phone let out a muffled sound inside my bag. I unzipped it, took the mobile out and positioned it so Nathan could read the text as well. The message was from Alfie.
Keep walking straight ahead. There’s a car waiting for you.
I wanted to run in the other direction, but Nathan caught hold of my hand, and we stepped up our pace until we reached a black BMW parked a short distance away. The back passenger door was already open, and Knuckles leant against the side of the car looking casual in jeans and a baseball cap. I let Nathan get in first because I didn’t want to have to sit next to Alfie. Knuckles closed the door behind us, got into the driver’s seat and pulled out into the heavy traffic.
‘How did it go?’ Alfie asked.
‘Like a dream.’ Nathan grinned.
More like a nightmare, I thought. I sat slumped on the seat, next to my husband, silently wondering how I was going to break the news to Alfie. I felt physically sick. As I sat looking at the world go by, my breathing became so rapid, it fogged up the car window. In an attempt to calm myself down, I focused on the scenery. Staring through the murky layer on the glass, I hoped to divert my thoughts to something more pleasant.
‘You’re very quiet, Gemma,’ Alfie said, stretching his arm along the back of the seat and squeezing my shoulder. I jumped as his fingers made contact with me.
22
Alfie
I took a packet of cigarettes from the inside pocket of my suit jacket. Tommy obligingly lit it for me, while I eyed Nathan. He was a complete waste of space. I should never have allowed him to get involved. It was obvious he’d cock up the job. The dopey bastard hadn’t realised Gemma didn’t make the switch until she eventually blurted it out. The Stones’ incompetence had just cost me five hundred thousand euros, so Nathan was going to have to pay for that.
Knuckles pulled the BMW up outside Gare du Nord station. Johno and Frankie were tailing us as I thought we’d be transporting a valuable diamond and could do with the backup. We’d continue with our plan to get out of the country and say goodbye to Paris for the time being. It was too risky to attempt the switch again.
‘Get rid of the cars and join us at the departure gate.’
*
I handed Gemma a Thalys ticket, and she eyed me suspiciously before she read what was written on it. She tried to hide it, but I could see by the look on her face that she was gutted. The arrival station was Bruxelles Midi and not London St Pancras as she’d hoped. She stared at the ticket in disbelief, realising that meant she wasn’t going home. We’d be in Brussels in less than ninety minutes thanks to the high-speed train.
‘Why are we going to Belgium?’ Nathan asked, studying his ticket.
I didn’t bother to reply. After the stunt he’d pulled earlier he was lucky I didn’t give him a slap. I certainly didn’t owe him an explanation.
We took our seats as the train pulled out of the station. Gemma and Nathan were sitting several rows ahead, opposite each other. I stared at Gemma as she looked out of the window, watching the scenery as it began to change. She looked drained. All the fight had gone out of her. I didn’t like seeing her like that. Th
e long face didn’t suit her.
When we stepped onto the platform at Brussels, the station was packed with busy commuters. Myself, Frankie and Tommy led the way. Nathan and Gemma were sandwiched between us, Knuckles and Johno. I couldn’t trust them not to try and do a runner.
As we neared the exit, I glanced over my shoulder, and I could see Gemma was looking anxious. She was no doubt scared of being stopped by border control. But she didn’t need to worry, we were travelling in the Schengen area, so the barrier was open. We didn’t have to show our passports and weren’t subjected to any other security checks either. That’s my kind of immigration system. By abolishing the internal borders between countries within the zone, it allowed people free and unrestricted movement. That gave criminals like me the opportunity to pass through unprotected borders, using false names and fake passports.
I’d always loved France. It was the gateway to the rest of Europe.
23
Gemma
Once we were outside the station, Alfie hailed a taxi, leaning through the open window so he could speak to the driver. The car pulled out into the rush hour traffic and made the short journey to the Hotel Metropole. We would be staying in another hotel in another city. There seemed to be a pattern emerging. This was going to be my life for the foreseeable future. You didn’t have to be a genius to work that out.
The doorman came over to the taxi to help us with our luggage, before showing us into the reception area of the nineteenth-century hotel. I was glad to see it lived up to Alfie’s high expectations. It was a work of art and oozed old-style opulence with its stained-glass ceiling panels and sweeping marble staircase. Glittering chandeliers hung above the teak-panelled room, which was lined with ornate pillars and adorned with gilded furniture.
After checking in at the biggest desk I’d ever seen, a young man in a red and grey uniform collected our luggage. ‘Bonjour, if you would like to follow me, I’ll take you to your room,’ he said, in near-perfect English. He led us to the far side of the lobby, where we waited for the charming antique caged lift.
Risking It All Page 8