“No, I’m not going to let it go,” I confess.
“Okay. I spoke with Ted for a bit. I had heard about his company before, and I know he has a lot of resources. He’ll be able to help you.”
“I hope so.”
“I have two pieces of information for you. First, as the boss probably told you, we have people on the lookout for Arkady everywhere. Train stations, airports, and all the police forces.”
“He briefly mentioned it. But you know Arkady has unlimited funds. He could fly out from a private airport, where no one would look too closely at his passport. He could already be in Italy as we speak. He left by sea, so who knows where he is now.”
“That’s the second piece of information I have that you may be able to use, I think. Our two cases could be related. Somehow.”
“Your suspect for the Super Cannes murder?”
“Right. Turns out Mr. Al Jasser owns a 32-meter yacht which, last night, was anchored between the islands of Sainte Marguerite and Saint Honorat. Interestingly, it moved about fifteen minutes after Arkady vanished.”
“How do you know that?”
“That’s easy, ships that size are all equipped with the AIS system. Anyone can track them. I didn’t even have to ask for a warrant from a judge.”
“How can you be sure Arkady was on board?”
“It’s only intuition, but I know that Al Jasser wasn’t on it. We arrested him this morning in Cannes. He’s presently a happy resident of one of our luxury cells in the basement. I just left him there.”
“You must be very happy.”
“Not really, because I didn’t get him for the murder. Though he’s not ready to come clean for that crime, he’s very cooperative as far as Arkady is concerned. At least he was, until his lawyer showed up. I think my threatening to add human trafficking to the list of his offenses was a good play.”
I’m hanging on Christophe’s every word.
“According to him, Arkady has been known to borrow his yacht. You know, between friends,” he says sardonically.
“Let me guess, he always thought that Arkady was going fishing or working on his tan at Garoupe? He had no idea what you were talking about when you talked about women being sold at auction.”
“That’s about it.”
“And what about the boat? Do we know where it is now?”
Christophe’s smile spreads, and he motions for me to come look on his computer screen.
“Saint-Tropez?” I’m surprised. “Why would he go there?”
“No idea, but my guess is that he’s decided to go into hiding instead of escaping the country. You’ll have to figure out why.”
* * *