Private Monaco

Chapter 25

“What have you got?” I asked the moment I entered Sci and Mo-bot’s suite.

Sci was on his feet, pacing, and a tired-looking Mo-bot was at her workstation checking a satellite image.

Sci nodded a greeting at Duval, who followed me into the room.

“We found traces of germinating sunflower and lavender seeds on the suspect’s pants. There was also a chemical fertilizer and a rare mold that favors drystone barns. Most of the land around Monaco won’t support those crops, but there are three farms in the Utelle Valley thirty miles away from here that fit the bill,” Sci said, leaning against the back of Mo-bot’s chair and pointing to the valley on the map.

“Utelle is known for the quality of its lavender,” Duval remarked. “They say the mountain soil makes it hardy, and it grows a little closer to the sun for a sweeter fragrance.”

“Good locations to keep someone locked up,” I remarked, studying the satellite image, which showed a collection of outbuildings around each of the three farmhouses.

One of them was at the foot of the valley, near the main road that connected Utelle with Saint-Jean la Rivière, a small village to the east. The second farm was a couple kilometers up the valley as the crow flies, and the third closer to the summit, a few kilometers higher.

“No prying eyes, hard terrain in the event of an escape, and good visibility in every direction in case of a raid,” I said.

I took a few restless paces. “If the cops go in heavy, there’s a good chance the bad guys will see them coming and run. If it was me, I’d cross the ridge here.” I gestured at a high point where the mountain joined the neighboring valley. “And work my way down, using the countryside for cover, checking each property en route.”

“Then why don’t we do that?” Duval asked. “I will make some calls to Inspector Chevalier’s superiors and see if I can speed up the wheels of justice, but waiting hours for a police operation is unacceptable in these circumstances, surely? Why don’t we pay a visit?”

Mo-bot, Sci and I exchanged approving glances.

“Why not?” Duval went on. “You are a tourist, enjoying the sights of southern France. We survey each property, and if we see Ms. Smith or anything suspicious, we notify Inspector Chevalier and she can use the information for a targeted raid. With perhaps more urgency this time.”

Mo-bot nodded.

“I bet a crime in progress gets a higher priority,” Sci noted.

“Okay,” I said. “The prime objective will be to observe and report. We’re not equipped to engage an organized enemy.”

Mo raised her eyebrows. “If we find Justine, will you be able to resist the urge to attempt a rescue?”

“None of us are any good to her dead or captured,” I replied, but my answer lacked conviction. I’d gladly sacrifice myself for Justine and knew there was a chance I would throw logic out of the window if I found her.

Our conversation was cut short by a call on the phone the kidnappers had sent me. I answered after five rings, once Mo-bot had signaled she’d activated her tracking software.

“Mr. Morgan,” the machine voice said. “You have the parcel.”

It was a statement rather than a question, so I remained silent.

“You will be given instructions soon. You have killed before,” the voice remarked, “so this will not be a difficult exchange. One life for Ms. Smith’s.”

The distorted voice confirmed my worst fears about the 3-D gun. They wanted me to use it to murder someone.

“You understand what will happen to Ms. Smith if you don’t do exactly as we say?”

I hesitated. “Yes,” I replied at last.

The line went dead and I looked at Mo-bot, who checked her software and shook her head.

“They’re going to give me a target for assassination,” I told the others. “I’m not killing an innocent. We go to the mountains, we find Justine, and we help the police get her back.”