Page 57 of One Summer in Monte Carlo
Jean-Claude and Nanette spun round to see a dishevelled Mathieu regarding them tiredly from the doorway. Carefully, Nanette placed the paper on top of the shampoo bottles, forlornly hoping to hide them from Mathieu’s view for some reason. Too late. He’d already seen them.
‘Where did those come from?’ he demanded.
‘Never mind those,’ Jean-Claude snapped. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
Mathieu looked at his father. ‘It’s a long story that will have to keep until tomorrow.’ He held his hand up to stop Jean-Claude’s protestations. ‘I promise, you and I will get together tomorrow when I will finally tell you everything I know.’
‘Everything?’
Mathieu nodded. ‘I promise. Now, will you please move that paper and let me see those bottles properly.’
Silently, Nanette picked up the paper.
‘Where did you get these?’ Mathieu asked again, as he looked at them.
Nanette hesitated before telling him. ‘I was supposed to put them in a secret safe onPole Position.’
Jean-Claude looked at his son. ‘These bottles contain something other than shampoo, don’t they?’
Mathieu nodded. ‘I wondered how they were doing it. I had a good idea how the money laundering was being done but not the actual diamond smuggling.’
‘Money laundering? Diamond smuggling?’ Nanette said, looking from Jean-Claude to Mathieu. ‘Zac?’
‘Yes,’ Mathieu answered. ‘I guarantee, if you were to unscrew one of those bottles, more diamonds than you ever thought to see in your life would flow out with the shampoo.’
37
Nanette was returning from taking the twins to school the next morning when her mobile rang. Jean-Claude.
‘Cherie, Luc has asked to meet me this morning. I’ll come to the apartment as quickly as I can afterwards. Try not to let Mathieu leave before I get there.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Nanette promised, not sure how she could detain Mathieu if he decided to leave.
Mathieu was in the small anteroom he was using as a temporary office, working on his computer and listening to an international news bulletin through its speakers when she got back to the apartment. He glanced up as Nanette appeared in the doorway.
‘I’ve brought you a coffee,’ Nanette said, handing him a cup. ‘Any news about Boris and the others?’
Mathieu shook his head. ‘No. There’s some trouble in Formula 1,’ he said, as the radio bulletin switched to the latest sports news.
‘This weekend’s French Grand Prix is under threat because of a problem with the tyres. Drivers are threatening to boycott the event over safety fears like they did in Indianapolis back in 2005. Our reporter spoke to current world championship leader, Zac Ewart, earlier.’
Nanette and Mathieu listened as Zac gave his opinion on the problem before saying, ‘I’m confident that it will all be sorted within the next forty-eight hours and I fully expect the cars to line up on the grid as usual for this Sunday’s race – with me hopefully taking pole position.’
As the newsreader went on to the next item, Nanette turned to Mathieu.
‘I just don’t understand what made Zac get involved with Boris and all this illegal stuff in the first place. He earns so much money from his driving. I know he can’t drive for ever, but he was going to build up Vacances au Soleilto give him a legitimate business to run when he quits driving. He doesn’t need to do illegal stuff.’
Mathieu glanced at her. ‘Vacances au Soleilisn’t going to be a legitimate business. Zac intends it to be a front for more money laundering.’
‘He asked me to work for him. He knows I’d never condone anything illegal,’ Nanette protested.
‘That’s why you’d have been perfect. You’d have handled the day-to-day running of the business honestly, not realising you were spending money that Zac had come by illicitly.’
‘When he was arrested, nobody would have believed that I was innocent,’ Nanette said slowly. ‘They would have assumed I’d been a part of the conspiracy.’
Mathieu shrugged. ‘I guess so. As to why he got involved with all this – it’s partly excitement, I think. Something to give him a kick when he loses the adrenalin rush of being able to drive at two hundred miles an hour. Also, it’s good, old-fashioned greed.’
‘Is that why you got involved – greed?’
