Private Monaco

Chapter 72

I was seething by the time we returned to the apartment, and I suspected Justine shared my mood, because she said nothing on the journey back. Our friends were lying somewhere between life and death while the men who’d put them there roamed free, able to inflict further evil on the world.

The apartment seemed lifeless without Mo-bot and Sci. Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of them. Sci’s spare boots, Mo-bot’s reading glasses. I felt angry at the men who’d hurt them, but also furious at myself for having failed to protect them.

“You want something to eat?” Justine asked.

I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

I sat down at Mo-bot’s workstation and used the emergency password she’d given me in case anything ever happened to her. The screens came to life and I saw she’d received a message from Weaver. He’d provided a full breakdown of who was behind the Chalmont Casino, and his network analysis concluded the business wasn’t entirely legitimate.

I printed off two copies of the analysis and handed one to Justine. She sat next to me as we went through the document. We also reviewed the information Mo-bot and Sci had pulled on Kendrick Stamp.

We spent hours poring over everything, occasionally rising to make each other coffee and grab chips and snacks as the rage-fueled adrenalin wore off and was replaced by hunger.

“Listen to this,” Justine said, as I returned with a fresh cup of steaming java. “Kendrick Stamp received a Bureau commendation for international cooperation. Intelligence he provided was used by French police to bust a drugs gang. The bust resulted in multiple arrests.”

“Where was this?” I asked. “You don’t think it was the Marseilles bust involving Roman?”

I sat down at Mo-bot’s machine and messaged Weaver to ask if he could provide details of the investigation that had led to Kendrick’s commendation.

“That would give the Dark Fates a personal grudge against him,” Justine remarked. “Like they have against us.”

I nodded and continued reviewing the Chalmont network analysis while I waited for a reply from Weaver. As I looked at the document, I realized I’d missed something that had been staring me in the face since the intelligence analyst had emailed across the information.

“There’s a small shareholder in Chalmont called Entreprises du Soleil,” I said, showing Justine the corporate records.

“So?” she asked.

“Look at the address for Entreprises du Soleil,” I suggested.

I used Mo-bot’s computer to search the address and it displayed a mountainside in southern France.

The Utelle Valley.

The pin dropped on the high farmhouse, the one where Justine had been held hostage.

She looked at me in disbelief.

“So, we’ve got proof Raymond Chalmont is tied to these people.”

An alert sounded, notifying us of a new message from Weaver.

“Easy question,” he wrote. “Kendrick Stamp was on a joint DEA — FBI taskforce that picked up intelligence of a major heroin deal going down in Marseilles. He advised the Marseilles Police who arrested a gangland kingpin called Baba Saidi. Stamp received a commendation for his work. It was his last big investigation before he was signed off sick.”

“We know the Dark Fates have connections in the French police,” I said to Justine. “Which means Roman could probably have identified the source of the intelligence that led to his arrest and the disruption of the deal, giving him a personal motive for revenge.”

“Putting Stamp in the firing line,” Justine remarked.

I nodded. “You got the energy for a drive?” I asked. “I want to check something out.”