Private Monaco

Chapter 41

The police had taken my phone, watch, wallet, keys, belt, shoes and laces, and put me in the interview room in my suit and shirt. The floor felt cold through my socks, but I was glad of the sensation. My mind was flying through several possible scenarios, the most perturbing of which was that Roman and his people had friends in the Monaco force who would be willing to stage a suicide or accidental death in custody.

Every time someone walked past the interview room, I tensed. I wouldn’t be able to do much against an armed attacker, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

So far, though, the door had remained closed. I’d been left to stew.

The other scenario troubling me was that I was about to be charged with the murder of Philippe Duval based on circumstantial evidence, which might not be enough to convict me, but could be sufficient to keep me locked up and out of the way until Roman and his people had achieved their objective. They would now need to kill the target they had wanted me to eliminate for them. It might also give them more time to reach me in custody.

I shifted on the metal chair, which was bolted to the floor like the matching table and chairs opposite. The walls were an uninspiring white and looked to be recently painted, so I didn’t even have old graffiti to distract me.

Without my watch or phone, I had no idea how long I’d been held in custody, but it must have been well over an hour, so I was twitchy and frustrated when the door finally opened and Valerie Chevalier entered together with a woman I didn’t recognize.

“Mr. Morgan, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I was attending to another matter,” the inspector said, closing the door behind her.

“Mr. Morgan, my name is Hannan Benyamina,” the other woman introduced herself.

She offered me her hand, and I stood up to shake it. She was about five feet ten and exuded confidence. She wore a black trouser suit and a pastel-pink blouse.

“I’m your attorney. One of your colleagues instructed me in this matter.”

I guessed Justine had moved to engage someone to represent me as soon as I was arrested.

“I specialize in complex criminal cases,” Hannan said. “Here are my credentials.”

She reached into a satchel and produced her resume. I glanced at it but took it on faith Justine would have done her homework.

“Thank you, Ms. Benyamina,” I said, offering her the seat next to mine.

“There’s no need to sit,” Valerie Chevalier said. “This won’t take long.”

Hannan seemed almost as surprised as me.

“Philippe Duval had a concealed surveillance camera system installed in his office. It recorded his murder at the hands of four masked men,” the inspector revealed. “And later, your entry and flight from the scene, Mr. Morgan. Why did you go there?”

“Philippe called me,” I replied. “Said he was in danger and asked to see me.”

“And why did you run?”

“Because I thought you’d suspect me of murder,” I replied. “And if it hadn’t been for the secret video footage...” I let the implication hang for a moment. “I’m guessing the perps tried to frame me.”

Valerie nodded. “They called the police as they were leaving the office after killing Monsieur Duval. We’ve matched when one of them uses a phone on the video to the time of the anonymous emergency call.”

“So, you have no grounds to hold my client?” Hannan said.

“He had previously agreed to cooperate and share information with us,” Chevalier responded. “And he’d been warned he would need to make himself available to us to assist with our investigation.” She looked me square in the eye. “We had a deal, Mr. Morgan.”

“We do,” I replied, but couldn’t force conviction into my delivery.

Roman and his men had known we were coming for Justine. They’d been planning to move location when she’d escaped, and that suggested a leak in the Monaco or French police force. But I couldn’t tell Valerie Chevalier what I thought in case she was the mole.

“Where is Monsieur Duval’s phone?” she asked.

I grimaced.

“Yes. The one you are seen taking from him on the video.”

She turned to Hannan. “If we get the phone within an hour of your client’s release, we won’t charge him with interfering with a police investigation.”

Hannan looked at me searchingly, and I nodded sheepishly.

“I’ll make sure it’s here within sixty minutes.”

“Then you can go,” Chevalier said. “But our information-sharing agreement is at an end, Mr. Morgan. And I’d suggest you stay away from this case. Too many people close to you are getting hurt or killed.”

Her last line stung me, but I knew better than to react.

She opened the door and I got to my feet, eager for freedom.