Private Monaco

Chapter 32

The apartment Mo-bot had rented on the Boulevard de Belgique was on the ninth floor of a block near the intersection with the Boulevard du Jardin Exotique, one of the main roads out of Monaco. We picked up essential supplies from a convenience store a couple blocks from the property and accessed the apartment using keys collected from the building concierge.

The five-bedroom penthouse was furnished like a contemporary hotel suite. The tan hide-covered furniture and light beech cabinets and tables were spotless. Huge windows opened onto large balconies and offered a view of the city and marina beyond.

“This must have cost a bundle,” Sci remarked as we walked in and surveyed the place. “Last minute on Grand Prix week.”

“The owner said they had a cancellation. It’s the only reason we got it,” Mo-bot replied. “But, yes, the nightly rental stings.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I assured her. “We need to find out who these guys are and why they targeted us.”

We put the bags of groceries on a counter in the large chef’s kitchen, which opened onto the living room.

“I’ll fix us something,” I said. “It won’t be gourmet, but we’ve got bread and cheese and cold cuts.”

“I’ll do it,” Mo-bot responded. “You two should go and get yourselves cleaned up and relax a little. You’ve been through hell.”

Justine smiled wanly.

“What about me?” Sci asked. “I got shot at doing that Morse code.”

“You were well on your way back to the car before anyone got anywhere near you,” Mo-bot told him. “But you go and have a cleansing bath if you like. Maybe with some scented candles and whale song playing?”

“That sounds lovely,” Sci said with a grin. “Could you run it for me?”

Justine’s smile broadened and I chuckled. It was good to be around friends who were acting normal.

“Shut up and help me,” Mo-bot said, rifling through the bags.

Sci smiled and joined her, and Justine and I went exploring.

We walked along a corridor that connected the living room with the bedrooms and went into one at the front of the building. Like the rest of the apartment, it was decorated in neutral tan and white tones. Unobtrusive abstract prints lined the walls, and a king-size bed faced floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the balcony lay the twinkling lights of four city blocks and then came the marina with all the boats rising and falling on the gentle waves.

Justine put her arms around me and we kissed. We held each other in silence for a long while.

“I’m going to have a shower,” she said at last. “Want to join me?”

She stepped away and took off her dirty T-shirt and, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to join her.

But my phone rang, and when I saw it was Duval, I felt compelled to answer. He might have news on the investigation or could be trying to give us a warning.

“Philippe,” I said.

He cut me off instantly.

“Jack, I’m scared. They’re going to come for me and my wife and children. They will kill them if I call the police. I don’t know what to do.”

Justine realized something was wrong and eyed me with concern.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“At my office,” he replied. “They know I was involved in the rescue...”

“Stay where you are,” I told him. “I’m on my way.”