Florence, busy cleaning the sitting-room had the radio on softly in the background and Nanette was gently humming along to a favourite song when Jean-Claude arrived.
‘How are you today?’ she asked, returning his hug and staying in the circle of his arms, concerned at the lines of worry she could see still etched in his face from last night.
Jean-Claude shrugged non-committally. ‘I’ve been better, but I’ve done as Mathieu asked and called off the private detective.’
‘Did he have any final information to give you?’
Jean-Claude glanced towards Mathieu’s bedroom door.
‘Is he here?’
Nanette shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Apparently Mathieu has had lots of meetings in recent weeks just over the border in Italy. The detective can’t prove it, but he thinks Mathieu was recruiting people to join a business cartel.’ Jean-Claude sighed. ‘With Boris being refused a permanent visa, I’m afraid that Mathieu will attract more attention from the authorities and move up the list of undesirables. Who knows what will happen then?’
Nanette didn’t answer. ‘Did you open the package?’ she asked instead.
‘Non.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought we’d do it together when we get back. Now, is Patsy ready? We should really make a move. I’ve booked a table for an early lunch in Cannes before we go to the airport.’
Both Nanette and Patsy enjoyed the drive and the lunch Jean-Claude treated them to at one of the restaurants on the Bord de Mer at Cannes. It was 1.30 p.m. as they drove past the roundabout with the preserved prop plane that graced the entrance to Cannes-Mandelieu airport.
‘Jean-Claude, thank you for a lovely last day. And for arranging this flight. I still can’t believe that I’m going home in a private jet,’ Patsy said.
After she’d checked in, Jean-Claude left the two sisters to say their goodbyes.
‘You take it easy when you get home,’ Nanette said. ‘If Helen wants to spoil you – let her!’
‘I will,’ Patsy promised. She hesitated before continuing, ‘Nanette, as much as I would like you to be with me, I will understand if things here make it impossible for you to come back when the bump arrives.’
Nanette hugged her sister. ‘Fingers crossed I’ll make it. You’ve got a few weeks to go yet so hopefully things will have sorted themselves out. Vanessa and Ralph might even be back. Now, your flight awaits. Ring me when you get home.’
Nanette left her sister to board the aeroplane and joined Jean-Claude in the car-park where she watched the Lear jet take off with the comforting feel of Jean-Claude’s arm around her shoulders.
Settling into the car for the drive back to Monaco, Jean-Claude switched on the car radio as a news bulletin started.
‘A failed coup in South America, has led to the arrest of a number of people in Columbia and Brazil.
‘And in a series of dawn raids this morning in a joint operation with Interpol, police have arrested a number of men in London and Monaco.’
Jean-Claude and Nanette turned to each other in apprehension, both instantly thinking of Mathieu.
‘The arrested men, who include the Russian millionaire, Boris Takyanov, are being held in unnamed police stations. No further details have been given, but it is believed the investigation, code name Sunny Climes, is part of an ongoing inquiry into charges of fraud and tax evasion in Monaco and France.’
Silently Jean-Claude leant forward and turned off the radio before starting the car.
Glancing at Nanette, he said quietly, ‘I think we’d better get home as quickly as we can.’
CHAPTER NINE
Nanette was silent, scarcely noticing the kilometres flying past as she sat, immersed in her own thoughts, as Jean-Claude expertly negotiated their way back to Monaco along the auto route.
Jean-Claude had tuned the car radio into the Monte Carlo station frequency hoping to hear some more information about the arrests, but there were no further news bulletins before they arrived back in the Principality.
A worried Florence met them at the apartment door, hysteria in her voice as she said something rapidly to Jean-Claude. The only word Nanette caught and understood was ‘Mathieu’ and she looked on anxiously as Jean-Claude’s expression became grimmer and grimmer before the housekeeper paused for breath.
‘She thinks Mathieu’s among the men who have been arrested,’ Jean-Claude said turning to Nanette. ‘I must go and find out; see if there’s anything I can do. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
‘I need to meet the twins,’ Nanette said. ‘I’ll walk down with you.’
Leaving a clearly worried Jean-Claude at the entrance to the underground garage, Nanette made her way towards the twins’ school where Pierre and Olivia were already waiting for her in the playground.
The old port was busy that afternoon with yachts and boats continually making their way in and out of the harbour. Tourists strolled along the embankment taking in the atmosphere and trying to get a glimpse of the celebrities sunbathing on the decks of their large yachts.
Stopping to buy the twins an ice cream at one of the pavement cafés, Nanette watched hundreds of passengers as they disembarked from one of the large ships that spent the summer months cruising the Mediterranean and regularly berthed in the harbour.
Wandering back along the embankment they passed a deserted Pole Position – its gangplank raised and the No Entry sign firmly in place. With Zac not due back until shortly before the French Grand Prix the crew would be enjoying having time to themselves.
Briefly, Nanette found herself wishing she didn’t have to wait so long to talk to Zac. She desperately needed to discuss her returning memory with him, tell him what she’d decided to do. She wanted to be free to get on with the rest of her life.
Stifling a sigh she shepherded the twins across the road and back to the apartment, hoping to find Jean-Claude and Mathieu there. But Florence was still alone and shook her head when Nanette asked quietly, ‘Any news?’
When the phone rang at eight o’clock that night Nanette snatched it up instantly, hoping it was Jean-Claude.
‘Hi, Sis,’ Patsy’s voice said.
‘Oh, hi,’ Nanette answered, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice as she realized it wasn’t JC.
‘Just ringing to tell you I’m home safely,’ Patsy said. ‘And that the bump is behaving itself.’
‘Great. You take care now for the next few weeks.’ Nanette hesitated before adding, ‘Patsy, can I ring you for a chat tomorrow? Right now I’m waiting for Jean-Claude to phone.’
‘Is everything all right down there?’ Patsy asked.
Nanette crossed her fingers before answering. ‘Everything is fine. I’ll phone you tomorrow and we’ll have a chat.’
Once the twins were settled and in bed for the night, Nanette wandered out on to the balcony, unable to concentrate on anything as she waited for news from Jean-Claude.
Down below, Monaco nightlife was buzzing with its usual mid-evening intensity. Yacht crews were welcoming guests on board for dinner, glamorous couples were walking arm in arm along the embankment and the restaurants were full to capacity. The cruise liner Nanette had seen earlier, Reine Soleil was slowly manoeuvring its way out of the crowded harbour, beginning its overnight journey to Corsica.
As darkness began to fall, the twinkling reflections of yacht and town lights in the harbour water seemed to Nanette to add a poignant romanticism to the familiar scene. A brief stillness in the night air though filled her with apprehension.
Unexpected tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she suddenly felt very alone and incredibly vulnerable for no real reason that she could fathom. She longed for Jean-Claude to come as she struggled to compose her thoughts.
A matter of minutes later when he did arrive, Nanette surrendered herself totally to the joy of being held in his arms.
‘You seem unhappy ma chérie?’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Have you been crying?’
Nanette shook her head. ‘Not really.
I just felt sad and lonely for some reason. I’m better now you’re here.’ She stayed happily in the circle of his arms, glancing up at him.
‘Now, tell me – is Mathieu in jail?’
‘Non.’ Jean-Claude said. ‘But I don’t know where he is either. I’ve contacted everyone I can – even people I wouldn’t normally talk to – in the hope that someone would know something, but nothing.’ He sighed. ‘Maybe tomorrow we’ll have some news.’ He hesitated. ‘I’ve brought the package with me,’ he said quietly. ‘I think we open it tonight.’
‘Do you think we should?’ Nanette said. ‘I’m beginning to wish I’d just done as Zac asked and put it in his safe.’
‘But, for whatever reason, you didn’t,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘If we open it, it may provide a clue as to what is going on. If not.…’ He shrugged.
‘I think, whatever we find, I ought to put it in the safe before Zac returns,’ Nanette said slowly, as she followed Jean-Claude into the sitting-room.
Jean-Claude had placed the package on the table and they both looked at it thoughtfully before he picked it up and examined it.
‘Look, if I pull this Sellotape off gently and open it carefully, I can reseal it and Zac need never know we’ve opened it.’
As he spoke, he gently ran his finger under the seal and carefully eased the package open. Nanette, biting her lips in worry as she watched, felt her mouth forming an astonished ‘oh’ as she saw the contents slide out of the packaging: a piece of A4 paper with a handwritten list on it and six bottles of shampoo.
Nanette shook her head in disbelief as she looked at Jean-Claude and went to pick up one of the bottles.
‘Non! Don’t touch them,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Fingerprints,’ he added as Nanette looked at him shocked.
‘It’s just bottles of shampoo JC,’ she protested.
‘No, I don’t think it’s as simple as that,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Your prints will be over the outside of the package but you have a legitimate excuse for that. It wouldn’t be so easy to explain how your, or my, fingerprints came to be inside on the bottles or the paper. Does Florence have any rubber gloves in the kitchen?’
Nanette nodded. ‘I’ll fetch them.’
Too small for Jean-Claude’s large hands, it was Nanette who put on the gloves.
‘Leave the bottles for a moment and put the paper on the table where we can both see it,’ Jean-Claude said.
At first glance it appeared to be a jumble of dates, some crossed through, with a single name – either Pepi or Cruz alongside, followed by two initials – RS or MW.
‘The dates from April are each roughly a fortnight apart,’ Jean-Claude said thoughtfully.
‘The exception is the 12 May which is only a week after the preceding one. And that’s the only date to have Cruz and MW after it – all the others have Pepi and RS. Is there some sort of pattern here?’
‘The crossed-out dates have all gone,’ Jean-Claude continued. ‘So why haven’t the 12 and 19 June been crossed out? We’re almost into the last week of June now.’
There was a short silence before Nanette said slowly ‘Think about it, JC. It’s virtually a Grand Prix timetable. And those two dates coincide with Zac not coming back here after Silverstone, but going straight out to Canada.’
‘The next date is three days before the French Grand Prix next month, when Zac, no doubt, will be back on board Pole Position,’ Jean-Claude said looking at the list again.
‘Now all we’ve got to do is work out the connection with Pepi, Cruz and what the initials mean,’ Nanette replied thoughtfully.
‘I can tell you that. Pepi is a crew member on the Reine Soleil and Cruz is on the Mediterranean Wanderer.’
Jean-Claude and Nanette spun round to see a dishevelled Mathieu regarding them tiredly from the doorway. Carefully Nanette placed the paper on top of the shampoo bottles, forlornly hoping to hide them from Mathieu’s view for some reason. But he’d already seen them.
‘Where did those come from?’ he demanded.
‘Never mind those,’ Jean-Claude snapped. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
Mathieu looked at his father. ‘It’s a long story that will have to keep until tomorrow.’
He held his hand up to stop Jean-Claude’s protestations. ‘I promise, you and I will get together tomorrow and I will tell you everything I know.’
‘Everything?’
Mathieu nodded. ‘Yes. Now, will you please move that paper and let me see those bottles properly.’
Silently Nanette picked up the paper.
‘Where did you get these?’ Mathieu asked again, as he looked at them.
Nanette hesitated before telling him. ‘I was supposed to put them on Pole Position.’
Jean-Claude looked at his son. ‘These bottles contain something other than shampoo, don’t they?’
Mathieu nodded.
‘I wondered how they were doing it. I had a good idea how the money laundering was being done but not the actual diamond smuggling.’
‘Money laundering? Diamond smuggling?’ Nanette said, looking from Jean-Claude to Mathieu. ‘Zac?’
‘Yes,’ Mathieu answered. ‘And, I guarantee, if you were to unscrew one of those bottles, more diamonds than you ever thought to see in your life would flow out of those bottles with the shampoo.’
Nanette was returning from taking the twins to school the next morning, when her mobile rang.
‘Chérie, Luc has asked to meet me this morning. I’ll come to the apartment as quickly as I can afterwards. Try not to let Mathieu leave before I get there.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Nanette promised, not sure how she could detain Mathieu if he decided to leave.
Mathieu was in the small ante-room he was using as a temporary office, working on his computer and listening to an international news bulletin through its speakers when she got back to the apartment.
He glanced up as Nanette opened the door.
‘I’ve brought you a coffee,’ Nanette said, handing him a cup. ‘Any news about Boris and the others?’
Mathieu shook his head. ‘No. But there’s some trouble in Formula One,’ he said, as the radio bulletin switched to the latest sports news.
‘This weekend’s US Grand Prix is under threat because of a problem with the tyres. Drivers are threatening to boycott the event over safety fears. Our reporter spoke to current world championship leader, Zac Ewart, earlier.’
Nanette and Mathieu listened as Zac gave his opinion on the problem before saying, ‘I’m confident that it will all be sorted within the next forty-eight hours and I fully expect the cars to line up on the grid as usual for this Sunday’s race – with me hopefully taking pole position.’
As the news reader went on to the next item, Nanette turned to Mathieu.
‘I just don’t understand what made Zac get involved with Boris and all this illegal stuff in the first place. He earns so much money from his driving. I know he can’t drive for ever, but he was going to build up Vacances au Soleil to give him a legitimate business to run when he quits driving. He doesn’t need to do illegal stuff.’
Mathieu glanced at her. ‘Vacances au Soleil wasn’t going to be a legitimate business. Zac intended it to be a front for more money laundering.’
‘But he asked me to work for him. He knows I’d never condone anything illegal,’ Nanette protested.
‘That’s why you’d have been perfect. You’d have handled the day-to-day running of the business honestly, not realizing you were spending money that Zac had come by illicitly.’
‘But when he was arrested no-one would have believed that I was innocent,’ Nanette said. ‘They would have assumed I’d been a part of the conspiracy.’
Mathieu shrugged. ‘I guess so.
‘As to why he got involved with all this – it’s partly excitement, I think,’ Mathieu said. ‘Something to give him a kick when he loses the adrenalin rush of being able to drive at two hundred miles an hour. Also, it’s good, old-fashioned greed.’
Mathieu looked at her steadily. ‘Do you really believe that of me, Nanette?’
‘Three years ago I wouldn’t have believed it of Zac, now,’ she shrugged, ‘anything seems possible.’
There was a short silence before Mathieu spoke and then he ignored her accusation saying instead, ‘I thought my father would be here at the crack of dawn to interrogate me, I wonder where he is. Incidentally, is there something going on between you two?’
Nanette felt the blush spreading across her cheeks and knew denying there was anything between her and Jean-Claude would be silly.
‘Thought so,’ Mathieu said. ‘He’s a lucky man.’
‘He rang to say he had to go to a meeting and would be later than he intended,’ Nanette said. ‘He was anxious that you might leave before he gets here.’ She glanced at Mathieu. ‘He’s very worried about what you’ve got yourself involved in. That you are acting illegally. I hope you can reassure him when he gets here.’
‘I certainly intend to explain how and why I got involved, but,’ Mathieu hesitated, ‘it’s not over yet. There are still things I have to do. And whatever he says is not going to stop me doing them.’
Nanette took a sip of her coffee as she regarded Mathieu apprehensively.
‘He’s more likely to want to help than stop you,’ she said. ‘To try and prevent you ending up in trouble with the law.’
‘Maybe it’s time I let him get involved.’
Nanette felt her heart contract at Mathieu’s words. The thought of anything happening to Jean-Claude filled her with dread.
‘Mathieu—’
‘Don’t worry. I promise you I won’t put him in a direct line of fire.’
Nanette heard the apartment door opening and went to greet Jean-Claude. She needed to feel his arms around her, but wasn’t yet ready to display her affection for his father in front of Mathieu.
She returned Jean-Claude’s gentle kiss quickly. ‘We’ve been expecting you for ages,’ she said.
‘Luc needed to talk,’ Jean-Claude answered. ‘I’ll tell you about it later. Where’s Mathieu?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Not disappeared again?’
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