One Summer in Monte Carlo

by Jennifer Bohnet

  Briefly, Nanette found herself wishing she didn’t have to wait so long to talk to Zac. She desperately needed to discuss her returning memories 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. Florence, though, 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 realised it wasn’t Jean-Claude.

  ‘Just ringing to tell you the bump is behaving itself and I’m home safely,’ Patsy said.

  ‘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?’

  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 groups of men and women were making their way into the various restaurants for an enjoyable evening with friends. 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. ‘I don’t know where he is. 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 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.

  ‘Does Florence have any rubber gloves in the kitchen?’

  Nanette nodded. ‘Do we really need gloves? I’ve already handled the package and so have you. Our fingerprints will be all over it anyway.’

  ‘Yes, our prints will be over the outside of the package, but we have a legitimate excuse for that. It wouldn’t be so easy to explain how your, or my, fingerprints happened to be on the inside.’

  ‘I’ll fetch the gloves.’ Nanette said.

  It was Nanette who pulled on the gloves when they turned out to be too small for Jean-Claude’s hands.

  Jean-Claude had placed the package on the table and they both looked at it thoughtfully for several seconds before Nanette 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 she spoke, she gently ran her finger under the seal and carefully eased the package open. Nanette, biting her lip in worried concentration, 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 two 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.

  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. ‘Leave the bottles for a moment and put the paper on the table where we can both see it.’

  At first glance, it appeared to be a jumble of dates, some crossed through, with a single word – 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 May the thirteenth which is only a week after the preceding one. 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. ‘We’re in the middle of June now and there are only two dates left, the twenty-fourth of June and then a gap to July the fifteenth.’

  There was a short silence before Nanette said slowly, ‘Think about it, JC. It’s sort of following a Grand Prix timetable. The thirteenth of May was the day after the Spanish Grand Prix, the twenty-fourth of June is the day after the French GP and July the fifteenth is the day after Silverstone.’

  Jean-Claude looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Could that indicate Zac’s involvement? Days when he would expect to be here? But what or who are Pepi, Cruz and what do the initials stand for?’

  Mathieu’s voice answered him before Nanette could speak. ‘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. Too late. 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 when I will finally tell you everything I know.’

  ‘Everything?’

  Mathieu nodded. ‘I promise. 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 in a secret safe 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. ‘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 with the shampoo.’

  37


  Nanette was returning from taking the twins to school the next morning when her mobile rang. Jean-Claude.

  ‘Cherie, 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 anteroom 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 appeared in the doorway.

  ‘I’ve brought you a coffee,’ Nanette said, handing him a cup. ‘Any news about Boris and the others?’

  Mathieu shook his head. ‘No. There’s some trouble in Formula 1,’ he said, as the radio bulletin switched to the latest sports news.

  ‘This weekend’s French Grand Prix is under threat because of a problem with the tyres. Drivers are threatening to boycott the event over safety fears like they did in Indianapolis back in 2005. 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 newsreader 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 isn’t going to be a legitimate business. Zac intends it to be a front for more money laundering.’

  ‘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 realising you were spending money that Zac had come by illicitly.’

  ‘When he was arrested, nobody would have believed that I was innocent,’ Nanette said slowly. ‘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. 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.’

  ‘Is that why you got involved – 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 early this morning to interrogate me, I wonder where he is. Incidentally, is there something going on between the two of you?’

  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. 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 to 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?’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m in the sitting room,’ Mathieu called out. ‘Ready to talk to you.’

  ‘It’s about time,’ Jean-Claude said, looking at Mathieu expectantly.

  ‘You know I’ve always kept in touch with Mama’s relatives,’ Mathieu said. ‘Do you remember Uncle Sebastian?’

  Jean-Claude nodded. ‘Your mama’s big brother. Had a restaurant in the centre of Paris for a long time. Didn’t he retire a couple of years ago?’

  ‘It was more a case of selling up while he still had something to sell,’ Mathieu responded quietly. ‘He was being targeted by a protection gang and he simply didn’t have the strength to fight Boris Takyanov and his thugs any longer.’ There was a short pause before Mathieu continued. ‘When Boris turned up in Monaco, I knew it wouldn’t be too long before he started his criminal activities down here. Anyway, I went to the police to put them in the picture about Takyanov in case the Parisian police hadn’t passed on his details. I also offered my help in putting a stop to him.’

  Mathieu looked at his father. ‘I thought I owed Uncle Sebastian that, at least, but the police declined my help – until a few months ago. It was the main reason I couldn’t do what Vanessa wanted and look after the twins in the UK,’ Mathieu added, turning to Nanette. ‘I had to stay here to become a part of the entourage that surrounds Takyanov.’

  ‘The day I arrived and you’d been arrested – was that all part of the plan?’ Nanette asked.

  Mathieu nodded. ‘The police were anxious for me to look like a criminal whom Takyanov would think could be useful to him, so they arrested me on some trumped-up charges. Paying my bail ensured that I had a reason to be grateful to him. His plan, as I suspected, was to muscle in on the local businesses and to run his international operations from here.’

  ‘Luc told me this morning that Boris approached him initially when he first arrived in Monaco, wanting to invest in his business. He was angry when Luc refused,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘Somehow this year he got wind of the fact that Luc had cash-flow problems and offered to help. Luc says accepting his help was the stupidest decision he has ever made. The parcel Evie delivered to Pole Position and Nanette brought here was the last of several errands that Boris pressured Luc into running for him. He’d decided the only way out of Boris’s clutches was to sell up and cease trading – rather like Uncle Sebastian, by the sound of it,’ Jean-Claude said, looking at Mathieu.

  ‘Did Evie know what she was delivering?’ Mathieu asked.

  ‘Non. Neither did Luc. When Evie told him Nanette had been there to take the package, he was worried that she was involved with Zac again and also Boris. The telephone call the other evening was to warn me.’

  ‘Do you know how Zac got involved?’ Nanette asked. ‘He wouldn’t have needed a business loan.’

  Mathieu shook his head. ‘You know Zac and I have been friends for – for ever really. When all this started, I had no idea he was caught up in it. I found it very difficult to spy on him. I kept hoping that he’d sort himself out and get free of it, but he’s in too deep, I’m afraid. I’m sorry,’ Mathieu said to Nanette.

  She shrugged. ‘Zac and I have some personal unfinished b
usiness to sort out, but he’s no longer a part of my life.’

  ‘Why didn’t you confide in me before?’ Jean-Claude asked quietly.

  Mathieu sighed. ‘Partly because I didn’t want to involve you in case things got nasty, and’ – Mathieu hesitated, before adding quietly – ‘also because I know how wary you are about Mama’s relatives. You’d probably have blamed Uncle Sebastian for getting me involved.’

  Jean-Claude shook his head in protest. ‘Non.’

  ‘Anyway, as I told you before, the police urged me to confide in no one,’ Mathieu said. ‘It was easier that way.’

  ‘Does Takyanov still think you’re a fellow criminal?’ Jean-Claude asked. ‘Even though you haven’t been arrested this time?’

  ‘Oui. Zac, too, trusts me – both as his friend and as a fellow conspirator. When he returns from the French Grand Prix, I have a feeling he intends to invite me to become more involved in his money-laundering sideline.’ Mathieu bit his lip. ‘The police have suspected a link between him and Takyanov for a long time, but now we have the proof he’s involved in the diamond smuggling too. Surrendering my friend to the police is going to be one of the hardest things I have ever done.’

  ‘Incidentally, what happened to the shampoo last night?’ Jean-Claude asked, looking around as if he expected to see it still on the table.

  ‘I meant to take it and keep it hidden until we decided what to do, but unfortunately your appearance drove it completely out of my mind.’

  ‘I packed it up again,’ Nanette answered quietly. ‘It’s in my room.’

  ‘I think it’s too dangerous for you to keep it here,’ Jean-Claude said. ‘The implications of you being found with it in your possession don’t bear thinking about. Perhaps the time has come to hand it over to the authorities?’ he continued.

  Mathieu shook his head. ‘I’d rather not just yet. With Zac in France for the Grand Prix rather than here in the Principality, it would only serve to complicate things. Best to keep it hidden until Zac returns and we can confront him with it. If you want me to look after it, I will,’ he offered.