“You believe there’s a connection?” Claude asked.
“I think it goes beyond a coincidence,” Captain Duval said. “With the events from Detective Benoit’s trip to Algiers, it’s possible your suspicions about Omar Khalid being involved are correct.”
“Well, we’ll have our hands full here for the time being,” Claude said. “Detective Benoit noticed the surveillance on our shipping company has failed to identify any activity over the last three weeks.”
“What do you mean ‘failed?’” Captain Duval asked.
“The latest report has no information about activity in or around the building used by Papillion Transport,” Geneviève said. “It seems impossible that within days of questioning the staff, the company would cease to exist.”
“No one has been seen entering or exiting the office spaces or building,” Claude added. “I’m going to have Detectives Berger and Masson canvas the docks to look for the ships. If we can find one in port, we should be able to trace them to their offices.”
“Have we heard anymore from Scotland Yard on the activities from their end?” Duval asked.
“No. They’ve just provided us with the lab results from the drugs they seized on the oil derricks,” Geneviève said. “It appeared to be the same makeup as the drugs from the incident in Portsmouth back in May.”
“Have we gotten any word on our mysterious guest from Paraguay?” Claude asked.
“I’ve not heard from Superintendent Chevalier yet,” Captain Duval said. “He was supposed to return this morning.”
“If we could question this gentleman, it might shed some light on how the drugs we’re encountering are coming ashore,” Claude figured. “Just based on the fact he’s being tracked by the Spanish and Germans should justify our reason for questioning him.”
“I don’t disagree with you,” Captain Duval said. “But we’re a civilized police force and we must follow the rules or we’ll be no better than the felons we arrest.” He leaned onto his desk, tired of hearing and seeing his detectives chasing shadows. “Now, if we could get back to your dilemma, Detective Benoit. How would you suggest we move forward? You’re in charge now, so give me my orders.” He stared at the woman, waiting.
Geneviève blinked in disbelief. “I’m not sure what to say, Captain?”
“This is where you get to make the hard decision,” the senior officer said. “It’s not so easy, is it?”
“No... no it’s not,” she stuttered, caught off guard by his statement.
“It would be impractical moving you, and we can’t dedicate a handful of officers to watch you and your apartment,” Claude said, tossing his empty cup in the trash. “So where does that leave us?”
“Setting a trap for the prowler's return, I guess.”
“You are close, Detective,” Captain Duval said. “We go about doing what we do best: we canvas the neighborhood and begin to shrink the space your prowler feels comfortable working in. Now, who was the officer on scene?”
“It was Officer LeBlanc,” Geneviève answered.
Scribbling down the name, Captain Duval said, “I’ll contact his watch commander and we’ll begin increasing patrols. Since this is their jurisdiction, I’ll have them begin discreetly asking the locals about any new faces.”
“Which still leaves me staying in my apartment,” Geneviève sighed.
“I’m open to suggestions, Detective Benoit,” the senior officer commented.
Peering at her partner, she had the feeling of being a pawn, used for baiting the king then discarded. On one hand, she was perfectly capable of defending herself. Showing the Algerians proved I could handle myself, she thought. On the other hand, not knowing when or where the prowler might make their move placed her at a disadvantage.
“Why don’t I stay in one of the vacant villas at the police training grounds,” she suggested decisively. “It’s a controlled space and patrolled around the clock.”
Both senior officers looked at each other before Claude spoke. “She makes a great point. We can leave your apartment as it is in the event the prowler returns. We’ll just make it a point to stop by each day to make it look lived in and pick up your mail.”
“If that’s how you wish to proceed, I’ll contact the barracks and make the arrangements for you,” Captain Duval said. “And since we’re focused on finding answers, why don’t the two of you go and question this Italian voyeur. Let’s try to find out if he has a friend still on the loose.” He dismissed the two officers.
“And just how do you plan to commute between the training grounds and here?” Claude asked Geneviève, opening the door for his partner as they walked out of the office.
“I’ll just borrow one of the cars in the motor pool,” she said. “They must have a rotation schedule to move them between stations. I’ll just become one of the drivers.” She sat down at her desk. “Plus, it’ll be a nice break from spending money on the bus.”
“I’m not to sure about that,” Claude replied reaching their office.
“Why not?”
“I’ve seen your driving, the department doesn’t have the budget for repairing its cars every other day,” he chided her taking his seat.
Geneviève sat down in a huff, folding her arms in front of her.
Getting out a folder from his drawer, Claude slid it towards Geneviève. “Let’s get back to find out about our mysterious shipping company, shall we? Here are my notes from the interviews; tell me what you make of them.”
“Turnabout is fair play. Here, these are mine,” she said as she passed her notes to Claude. “Our only problem is not having the notes from Inspectors McDermott and Fletcher and the people they talked to,” she sighed, alluding to the Scotland Yard officers.
“You can always call them and have them fax their notes to us,” Claude pointed out. Flipping the page, he let out a low whistle. “You mentioned the receptionist alluded to the owner being in Venezuela, right?”
“Yes, it’s the story she gave me. Why?”
“Our latest guest,” Claude said, “is supposedly from Paraguay. What are the chances he was here to negotiate the completion of a clandestine transaction? I mean, the shipping owner goes to South America, then we get a lead on this smuggler who's from the region from both Spanish and German police.”
“It’s too convenient,” Geneviève said, shaking her head. “If we think along those lines, it would appear the officers from the Guardia Civil were passing their problems onto us. And who’s saying the Germans didn’t pass it to the Spanish for the same reason?”
Before Claude could answer, the phone rang, “Hello?” Geneviève answered. After a pause, she spoke again. “Yes, Detective Berger works in this office. What...? No, he’s not here at the moment. Yes, I’ll pass your message to him when he returns. Good day to you too... thank you.” She hung up and turned to Claude.
“Who was that?” Claude asked.
“It was the communications clerk. Nicolas has a dispatch from the Spanish about our suspect,” she said.
“And there might be the answer to all our problems,” Claude said, getting up from his desk.
“And where are you going now?”
“I only have so much bladder space for the coffee, so I’m going to the men’s room.”.
***
“Do you ever think about settling down, Guy?” Nicolas asked his partner.
“You mean like get married, have kids, a home, and stuff like that?”
“Yeah, I mean, I come to work, I get off, and hit the gym or run. Then it’s off to an empty apartment,” Nicolas said, pulling the police car to the curb. “I have to fix my own meals, do my own laundry; it’s becoming boring I guess.”
“So, what sort of woman do you think could handle having you as a husband?” Guy asked, heading towards the waterfront. “She’d have to be athletic, right? A good dancer, pleasant on the eyes…”
“You’re describing Benoit; you know?” Berger envisioned their female partner in the various sce
narios Guy was depicting with his suggestions.
“She’d certainly be one I’d use as a benchmark for what you’re looking for, though.”
Leaning on the car’s rooftop, he scanned the docks, then looked back to his partner. “Do you think it’d be better to date a woman in the department though?” Nicolas asked, stopping to stare at the ships. “We've got a few admin-types who are single. I mean, there’s the one in accounting, ah, Bernadette. In addition, I’ve heard the lab was adding a few new girls. I mean, take the one now working in forensics, what’s her name…?”
“You mean Francine LeBeau?”
“Yeah, she’s fairly cute,” Nicolas said. “I mean, sure she wears a lab coat all the time, but she’s got a nice figure. She needs to ditch the librarian-style glasses and let her hair down occasionally.”
Strolling past the second terminal, Guy stopped and pulled out his notebook with the list of freighters. “Ahoy, it looks like one of our ships pulled in.” He pointed to the Motor Vessel (M/V) De Gaulle tied to the dock. A buzz of activity could be seen along the side of the freighter as several cranes removed containers of goods.
“I’ll be damned. The old man was on to something, wasn’t he?” Nicolas said, alluding to Captain Lemieux’s theory. “So, do we go and see if anyone onboard can give us directions to their home office?”
“No, I’m thinking we sit it out and wait for someone to follow,” Guy suggested. “We don’t want to tip our hand too soon on what we know about them. Come on, let’s get over to the harbormaster’s office and see when it’s scheduled to leave.” The detectives turned back towards the car.
“So, getting back to my earlier question; should I date someone like Francine?”
“It might be easier that way,” Guy said, sliding behind the wheel. “At least she’ll know what you do for a job and won’t ask a bunch of questions. Not to mention the ability to have an intelligent conversation, you know, with her being a science-type and all.”
“You’ve got a point,” Nicolas said. “But can she cook?” He carefully watched the ships pass by the window.
“You better hope she can tolerate your cooking,” Guy teased, pulling into the parking lot for the harbormaster’s office. Going into the building, the detectives approached the counter and receptionist.
“Good morning. Can I help you?” the young woman asked.
Each officer showed their police IDs, with Guy opening the conversation. “Yes, we were hoping to secure a list of arrivals and departures for the next month, if you don’t mind?”
“And this is for official business?” the woman asked.
“Yes, it is,” Nicolas answered ahead of his partner, letting his eyes roam over the young woman’s figure.
“If you’ll take a seat, I’ll prepare the print-out for you,” she said, directing them towards the corner and the empty chairs.
“You need to remember your manners,” Guy said, noticing the stares of his younger partner.
“What? I was just making small talk with her,” Nicolas defended.
After waiting for nearly five minutes, the young woman returned wheeling a wire basket cart with the manifests sitting on the top. “Here you are, gentlemen.” She placing the box onto the counter with a thud.
The detectives both stole glances at each other as they noted the copier paper box on the counter. “Are you trying to say all this is a single month’s listing of ship movements?” Guy asked.
“This is what you requested, isn’t it?” the woman asked.
“Yes, it is,” Guy responded.
“It’ll take days to go through all these.” Nicolas said, hefting the box into his arms.
“It’s a good thing we’re only looking to find four freighters then, isn’t it?”
“Do you think Benoit and Lemieux had these many files looking for their drug smuggling cruise steward?” Nicolas asked, sighing with relief as he placed the box in the back seat.
“I wouldn’t know. I was still working in Toulon at the time,” Guy said backing the car out of the space and heading to the office.
“What restaurant would you recommend for a first date?”
Chapter Eleven
“You can’t be serious, Marcel,” Captain Duval exclaimed as he paced his supervisor’s office. “We’re given information about a possible link to drug trafficking and just because the American DEA says our suspect is working for them, we let him go?”
“Julien, everything INTERPOL showed me was legitimate,” Superintendent Chevalier insisted. “All the information they’ve received so far shows this Monsieur Ochoa as legitimate according to Captain Fontaine.” He continued, stirring a spoonful of honey into his tea. “Plus, we get the added bonus of being placed into the information loop for any future briefings. I’d think you would come to appreciate being included.”
“My detectives will not be happy to see their efforts to bring in the suspect being discarded like the Sunday paper,” the captain said. “Detectives Berger and Masson worked hard to track this man down.”
Staring at his department chief, Marcel folded his hands on his desk. “I’m aware how hard your staff has been working. The judicial office has been seeking more clerks the last three months because of the number of arrests your group and the Gang Enforcement Task Force is making. However, we can’t rely on just one person to bring down a potential drug empire.”
“You’re right,” Julien agreed, sitting back down. “But if this man has been involved with the drug activities here, we should at least hear to what extent our troubles range.”
“As it just so happens, I’ve gotten his last transcript from his supervisor.” Marcel pulled two pages from a folder. “This was passed to his contact in Hamburg after a brief encounter on the docks and he was detained,” he explained, passing them to Julien.
Scanning over the text, Julien let out a low whistle. “So, this confirms he was on the freighter that docked in Portsmouth. I’m not sure the British will be happy to know several deaths were part of a clandestine transaction by the American’s drug agency.”
“I’ll let INTERPOL and Captain Fontaine inform Scotland Yard, and they can decide if it’s worthy of an inquiry,” Marcel said. “As they say, better to leave sleeping dogs to lie. Now, what can you tell me about this Italian’s fixation with Detective Benoit?”
Julien tilted his head back and chuckled.
“This is amusing to you?”
“No, sir. It’s just Captain Lemieux deemed him a ‘playboy’ that’s all,” Julien said, suppressing his giddiness. “But in all seriousness, I’m having this man’s background checked again.” He spent the next five minutes explaining the break-in to Geneviève’s apartment.
“Contemplating an accomplice is not a bad idea,” Marcel said, finishing his tea. “Have we reached out to the Italian Embassy for confirmation of the suspect?”
“It was one of the first things we checked on,” the captain said. “His passport came back nearly clean, with just a notation of entering Monaco without being stamped on arrival.” He cleared his throat. “I’m further coordinating with the neighborhood patrols to look for any new faces milling about.”
“It’s summer time, Julien,” the superintendent said. “The locals will point out every tourist renting a room or sharing space at a hostel as your suspect, you know. Are you ready to question each one? Moreover, what will Detective Benoit be doing for a place to stay? Is she remaining in her apartment or does she have someone she can stay with for a few days?”
“Since she’s reported to us, I’ve not seen her spend any personal time with people outside of work. But in this case, we have been discussing her options,” the captain said. “She mentioned staying in one of the VIP suites at the police academy for the time being.”.
Superintendent Chevalier eyebrows rose, hearing the captain. “And what do we do if someone from Paris pays us a visit?”
“I’ll handle it when the time comes sir.”
“Of course, you will Cap
tain. Now, if we can get back to our current dilemma with Monsieur Ochoa and INTERPOL. As soon as the communications department can set-up our equipment, we’ll hopefully be a step closer to snaring the drug traffickers,” Superintendent Chevalier said. “Until then, we’ll have to continue doing police work the old fashion way, walking a beat. If there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed, Julien.”
“Yes sir,” the captain, said leaving the office.
***
“Do you have a color scanner available?” Benito Russo asked the FedEx clerk.
“Yes, it’s in booth number 2,” the young man, said pointing behind the Italian. “It’s 5 euros for fifteen minutes.”
Benito handed the money to the clerk who in return passed over the one-time passcode to use the device. Walking over to the cubicle, the Italian placed his messenger bag on the desk and sat, signing in the passcode to make the machine came to life, displaying various icons.
Sliding the map out of his bag, Benito placed it on the glass and selected the scanner function. “Now, to see if we can get this to save.” He placed the flash drive stick into the empty port. Selecting ‘scan’ on the prompt, he saw the cursor change from an arrow to the spinning hourglass, showing the machine was at work, soon providing him with a computerized image of the city map.
Satisfied he was successful at saving the image, he placed the map back into his bag and shut the machine down. “Thank you,” Benito said, waving to the clerk as he stepped out of the store.
Wandering down the avenue, he came upon the park his associate, Angelo Mazza, was arrested at two weeks earlier. “How could he be so foolish?” he asked himself. He took a seat on a vacant bench, pulling out his pad and making notes of the surroundings while keeping an eye on several patrons.
“Excuse us,” a voice came from behind him.
“Yes?”
“Do you mind taking our picture?” the young man asked handing over the specially configured camera while his girlfriend stood behind him. “Just push this button,” the man said, pointing to a spot on the camera.
Obscure Intentions Page 8
