Private Monaco

Chapter 17

When Mo-bot thought of the French Riviera, she never imagined a place like the Promenade Val du Carei, the street on which the Hôtel Athos stood. She and Sci had taken a cab to Menton, the town a few miles east of Monaco. The driver had taken the scenic route to show them the pastel-painted buildings that had lined the seafront for centuries, before heading inland past car dealerships, mini-marts and simple apartment buildings until they reached the rundown neighborhood that was home to the seedy hotel.

Sci and Mo-bot stood on the corner directly opposite the Athos. A trio of police cars had parked out front, and the French uniformed officer at the entrance suggested the cops were in the process of examining the biker’s room, or at least preparing to. Jack had told them Valerie Chevalier was hoping to have a forensics team in place by midnight, which meant she and Sci wouldn’t be able to access the room for a long time, but based on Jack’s account they would be unlikely to find anything useful anyway, and Mo-bot wasn’t keen to waste time duplicating the same work as the cops.

“Thoughts?” she asked Sci, who shrugged as he looked around.

They were off the beaten track here. The only tourists who would visit a place like this would either be passing through on their way to someplace else, or they’d be in search of the less salubrious goods and services the neighborhood offered.

Mo-bot’s attention was drawn to a couple of young guys in jeans and T-shirts, who loitered outside a convenience store a short way down the street. They were watching her and Sci furtively. Pimps? Drug dealers? Or maybe a couple of grad students on a day off, Mo-bot thought, challenging herself to overcome her inclination to put everyone into a criminal pigeonhole.

A moment later, an emaciated woman in a short, dirty sundress emerged from the store and approached the men. She had bruises, scrapes and lesions on her arms and legs and looked in need of medical attention. She gave one of the men a fold of cash and the other slipped something into her hand.

Drug dealers, Mo-bot thought, and she watched the pitiful woman stagger away, wishing there was something she could do to steer her off such a self-destructive path.

As she considered the bleak future that awaited the poor addict, Mo-bot noticed a camera rigged to the exterior of the store. It looked like a cheap, self-installed unit and was pointed away from the two dealers and aimed across the street toward the hotel.

“Come on,” Mo-bot said, nudging Sci and nodding to the camera. “We might get lucky.”

As they walked along the street, the two dealers shuffled away, keeping their eyes on the strangers as they moved on.

The convenience store was piled high with discount brands, and a bin near the door was full of yellow-stickered cans near their expiry dates.

Mo-bot spied a grubby man emerging from a stock room at the rear of the store. She shuddered when she saw him zip up his fly and adjust his pants.

“Gross,” she remarked to Sci, who was oblivious.

“What?” he asked.

“Either I’m judging an innocent man who has just been to the bathroom or we’ve got someone here who exploits the vulnerable,” Mo-bot replied. “Let’s find out which.”

She reached the checkout counter at the same time as the debauched-looking man.

“Do you speak English?” she asked.

He nodded.

“You having a busy day?” Mo-bot said.

The guy looked puzzled. “You want to buy something?”

“Your surveillance footage for the past week. From the camera out there.”

He gave a hollow laugh. “That’s very expensive.”

“How much is your marriage worth?” Mo-bot had noticed the man’s wedding ring as he’d adjusted his fly.

He looked bemused.

“Because we have photos of the young lady who just left this store with more money than she came in with, and your wife might be interested to know how she earned it.”

The guy looked as though Mo-bot had hit him. His mouth opened and closed a few times. Finally, whatever he was trying to say fell away and his bluster dissipated, leaving him fearful, compliant.

“USB okay?” he asked.

“USB is fine,” Mo-bot told him.

“Last week?” he checked.

“The past seven days,” Mo-bot confirmed, and he hurried toward the stock room.

“Wow,” Sci said, finally breaking the stern, impassive silence he’d maintained throughout the exchange. “You’re something else.”

“Never miss an opportunity to teach a scumbag a lesson,” she replied, waiting patiently for the footage. She knew she wouldn’t have to wait long. The sleazy man would be keen to get them out of his store.