“I’ll pass it on to someone who is.”
Tristan looked off to the side, his eyes the color of the sea’s fathoms. “He’s a good guy, and Estebe’s an asshole.”
“Good luck with your trading,” Arthur said as he sauntered away.
“Don’t need luck in high-frequency,” Tristan called after him. “That’s the whole point!”
That was true, but Arthur was too distracted to debate the finer points of computer-based commodities trading just then. He had to find Casimir to tell him about Fournier.
Caz didn’t seem to be in the pool area.
With a quick glance over the parapet again, he saw Casimir standing on the sidewalk below, talking to some girls on one of the yachts.
Good, they needed to go.
Arthur trotted down the stairs and nodded to the security guard as he passed. The guy ignored him.
As he hit the street, he returned to his usual, lordly demeanor, lest someone see him hurry and guess his information or his errand.
Casimir walked up to meet Arthur on the quay beside the dock, the boats creaking their ropes and nudging against their protective floats. Styrofoam squealed as boats ground against it, and the salty scent of the sea filled Arthur’s nose and lungs as he breathed slowly, casually, as if nothing were amiss.
When he reached Casimir, Arthur kept a low voice and told him, “I saw Twist Campbell up there. Everyone here knows about Rainier’s stroke. It’s common knowledge in the jet set that he’s been in hospital for weeks, and people are starting to arrive for the inevitable. Max was spending his days at Rainier’s bedside, except for yesterday. Yesterday, they said he went up to Geneva.”
“We knew that,” Casimir said, bending his head near Arthur’s. “You told me yourfriendsgot a visual on him at the Geneva airport.”
“He got back yesterday late afternoon and was in the casino by nine o’clock, looking rough.”
“Rough?” Casimir repeated. Jesus, when Maxence went on a real bender, sometimes his health suffered.
“Like he’d been in a fight, Twist said.”
“Jesus. What the hell does that guy get himself into?” Casimir updated Arthur on what he’d found out, that Pierre had taken his yacht out in the very wee hours of the morning and hadn’t returned yet. “Last night, did you talk to Pierre personally or just his toadies?”
Arthur shook his head. “Just security personnel. They said Pierre told them to call me.”
“Maybe he told them when to call, and then he took the yacht out to the open sea.”
“But would he dump Maxence’s body over the sidehimself?Wouldn’t he just have that oaf of his, name of Sault or something, do it for him? Or maybe he sank the whole yacht to disguise that he’d had Maxence killed.”
Casimir considered this. “Let’s get the girls. We should figure out whether Pierre is out with that yacht or if he’s somewhere in Monaco. If he is here, we need to talk to him. That bastard has something to do with this. I just know it.”
Chapter Twelve
Port Hercule
Maxence: Just before midnight
Maxence held out his hand in the darkness, beckoning Simone with a twitch of his deeply callused fingers. “Come on.”
The distance from the casino to theYacht Club de Monacowasn’t far, but he was sucking wind. Though much of the route was sharply downhill, he’d been carrying Simone in his arms for most of it. She couldn’t keep up with his long stride because she was wearing those ridiculous, sexy high heels.
The sprint had overheated him, so as soon as he’d set her on the quay, he’d rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows despite the wintry night, exposing his thick forearms to the chilly air.
Light from the sodium streetlights at Port Hercule glowed mustard yellow on his tanned skin and the wavelets frosting the dark sea. The stiff December breeze flapped his tuxedo shirt against his arm and whipped his hair around his jaw and ears. “Hold onto me. Don’t fall in the water.”
Behind Simone, theYacht Club de Monacorose in the air like a beached cruise ship, slim decks stacked on each other. One end was rounded like the stern of a ship, and the other was slimmer, suggesting a pointed bow. The swimming pool on the top floor allowed members to bask in the Mediterranean sun during the daytime.
Presumably, one needn’t wear the dress code-mandated blue blazer and slacks while swimming in the pool.
