The Case of the Black Pearl Read Free Page A

name?’ Patrick said.
    Chevalier raised an amused eyebrow. ‘I shouldn’t think so.’
    ‘How can I contact her?’
    Chevalier gave his signature shrug. ‘Through Brigitte – how else?’
    Madame Lacroix was renowned for the protection she gave ‘her girls’. If Patrick wanted to speak to Marie Elise, he would have to set up an appointment at Brigitte’s office. The alternative was to hire her for an evening and speak to her alone. Which would not come cheap.
    Patrick had already negotiated a daily rate with Camille Ager, who’d insisted on paying him for two weeks’ work up front, cash in hand. He’d deposited the substantial amount in the usual place on board the gunboat. Even if an intruder managed to bypass Oscar, Patrick was certain they would not easily find his secret stash of euros and American dollars.
    The two men fell silent as they contemplated two young starlets who were attempting the steeply cobbled Rue Antoine in very high heels, while their male companions strode ahead, oblivious to their difficulties.
    ‘Ask her for a meal on board
Les Trois Soeurs
,’ Chevalier said. ‘She will like that. And you can talk in private.’
    Brigitte’s girls were used to expensive dinners served on visiting yachts, or in the restaurants of the magnificent hotels that lined the Croisette. Patrick regarded himself as a good cook, but dining aboard
Les Trois Soeurs
didn’t come into that bracket.
    Chevalier appeared to read his mind.
    ‘Nothing too fancy. She gets plenty of that. A
fruits de mer
platter will suit Marie very well,’ he said with certainty.
    ‘So you know this girl?’
    ‘I know them all. As a gay father figure, of course.’ He topped up Patrick’s glass as Veronique appeared with a selection of hors d’œuvre. ‘The choice of wine, I leave up to you.’
    Patrick raised his glass in salute, recognizing this as a compliment.
    Later, the carafe empty and the appetizers eaten, Chevalier indicated that he had an evening engagement. He wished Patrick good luck, then roared off on his motorbike, much to the amazement of some nearby tourists.
    Once his friend had departed, Patrick rang the Hibiscus number.
    The voice that answered was undoubtedly that of Brigitte Lacroix. Patrick revealed his identity and asked if Marie Elise was free for that evening.
    ‘For what?’ Brigitte demanded.
    ‘Dinner aboard
Les Trois Soeurs.
’
    There was a short silence, followed by a chuckle.
    ‘You wish Marie Elise to go slumming?’
    ‘I have an unique mahogany sunken bath,’ Patrick countered.
    ‘We all know about your bath, Monsieur de Courvoisier.’
    Patrick wondered how, but decided not to ask.
    ‘I will check with Marie Elise,’ Brigitte said. ‘If she wishes to take up your offer, she will call you back.’ The phone went down.
    The return call came five minutes later. Marie Elise sounded charming and not a little amused by the proposition. When she asked for a time, Patrick suggested eight o’clock. There was no mention of a fee. Much like the designer shops on the Rue d’Antibes, if you had to ask, then you couldn’t afford to buy.
    Patrick settled the bill with Veronique and went to order his seafood selection and select his wine, before seeking out the director of
The Black Pearl.
    A variety of festivals used the large auditorium of the Palais des Festivals, but none so famous, nor so frantic, as the film festival. Negotiating the Croisette during these ten days, especially if you were swimming against the tide, required a great deal of time and effort.
    Patrick decided to avoid the throng hanging about the red carpet area and instead wound his way eastwards through the back streets, only cutting down near the Hôtel Majestic Barriere. Set back from the Croisette and fronted by a wide drive and terraced garden bar, its grand entrance was being policed by two security guards. To gain entry you had to provide evidence of being a bona fide festival delegate via a treasured pass, or be a