Amanda: Tales of an international female spy

by Richard Marques

  ‘My friend’s parents used to own a house in one of the small villages here,’ Jeremy told her. ‘I can remember being invited to spend the summer with them. It was wonderful to wander through the local farmers’ market to pick up dinner. The fish was great. We would often get a whole red mullet that had just been caught and grill it on a barbecue, then eat alfresco in the garden under the setting sun.’

  ‘It sounds idyllic.’

  ‘It was. You know, once I’m here I feel as though I never want to leave. You never feel so well as you do when you’re by the sea. The fresh air and the food could well be the coveted elixir of immortality. It’s little wonder that you see so many old people in the area heading towards their centenary years.’

  They had, by now, walked quite a stretch down the white sand, people-watching as they went. In front of them the beach curved and the sand formed dunes with small pathways between them branching in different directions. There were fewer people about and when they followed their chosen path through the dunes they found they were quite alone. The dunes began to merge together and they soon reached a small, secluded cove where the water lapped up peacefully on the shore. The ocean was as clear as a glass of Tanqueray gin. Schools of fish flitted through the water searching for food, while at the same time trying to prevent themselves becoming someone else’s. Mounds of green and brown seaweed formed unkempt hedges in the ocean garden. When washed in by the tide they unfurled themselves and looked like the trimmings from a mulberry bush strewn around the shore.

  Finding themselves alone in such enchanted surroundings they decided to take a dip in the sea. As Amanda walked into the water she felt the warmth of this isolated patch of sea. It was as warm and soothing as her hot tub back in London. She waded further out, with Jeremy following close behind. Then she tripped on some underwater obstacle and almost toppled over. Jeremy reached out and managed to steady her. Amanda looked down and saw that it was a piece of driftwood that had nearly caused her to lose her footing. The wood floated to the surface and bobbed in the water besides them tossed about by the waves. Jeremy was still holding onto Amanda’s arm. She felt his body against her as he stood behind her. She turned slowly and was suddenly conscious of his firm, muscular figure, his well defined arms, his broad chest, which was tanned and had a light dusting of soft, masculine brown hair.

  As the waves lapped around them and the warm breeze ran over her skin, Amanda felt a wild zestfulness overtaking her. Jeremy looked down at her, his expression intent. There wasn’t a sole anywhere around them. Even the fishes seemed to have abandoned the cove to them.

  As though reading her thoughts, Jeremy pulled her closer to him. She felt as light as the driftwood that floated alongside them, weightless and at one with the forces of nature. As Jeremy brought his hands gently up to the back of her head, Amanda felt her heart start to race.

  Jeremy lowered his lips to hers. He was just about to press their lips together when Amanda suddenly pushed him away. Jeremy looked confused and hurt, but most of all surprised. Amanda grabbed him by the hand and started dragging him out of the water.

  ‘It’s a bomb!’ she explained urgently ‘The driftwood – I can hear it!’

  Jeremy listened and he too could hear it now – a mechanical ticking emanating from somewhere. With careful movements he turned the driftwood over in the water and at once they both saw what was attached to the underside. There was some kind of remote controlled propelling device that had been used to direct the wood to where they were swimming and of course the most shocking think of all: a time bomb.

  Amanda and Jeremy swam back to shore as fast as they could and raced across the sand to safety behind the dunes, where they crouched close to the ground. Nothing happened for a moment, then without warning the driftwood exploded, scattering splinters in all directions. A large jet of water spurted thirty feet up from the sea and a deafening roar filled the air. Then the water rained back down into the sea and all became calm once more. Small fragments of wood floating on the sea were the only visible remnants of what had just occurred.

  Still clutching Jeremy tightly to her, Amanda realised how important their mission must be. Someone wanted them dead because they were getting closer to the truth. They mustn’t be caught off-guard again.

  Chapter 10

  The report they had been waiting for in earnest, which related to the black device discovered at Solutions d’energie, arrived promptly the next morning. It transpired that the device was part of a winch mechanism used to hoist rope or cable. This meant that the intruders had hidden themselves in the roof rafters during the theft, which went some way to explaining how they had managed to avoid being seen on the CCTV cameras. It still did not explain, however, how they had avoided the thermal imaging systems, which were designed to pick up even the smallest discrepancies from the ambient room temperature.

  SVHQ would now focus on tracing the device to find out where it originated from, to see if they could find a lead. Amanda was still of the mind that in order to have carried out such a professional heist the criminals must have had insider help. To this end she began compiling a list of suspects who worked for the corporation.

  Solutions d’energie directly employed one hundred and sixty-seven people at their Nice headquarters. In addition, there were several more contractors who were used occasionally for temporary security or building work. Specialist consultancy companies were also used on more complex projects. In spite of this seemingly daunting number of people involved with the company, only a limited number of these had the potential to gain access to the CCTV recordings or would have been able to steal the security codes for the safe.

  Amanda compiled a short dossier on the sixteen individuals she considered most likely to have been involved in the operation. She then proceeded to draft a more detailed personal profile for the top five suspects she had identified. The list included Maxine and four other senior members of staff.

  Top of the list was the security director, Philippe, whom she had not yet encountered. Philippe was fifty-seven years old and originally from Limoges in the west-central region of France. He had worked for Solution d’energie for twelve years and was probably one of the most highly trusted individuals in the entire company. He had an apartment in Central Nice and was reputed to be both highly intelligent and well respected for his ability to adapt quickly to the latest technology. He ran a tight ship, expecting dedication and hard work from his security team.

  If there was anyone who had access to information that would allow them to act as an accomplice without raising too much suspicion it was him. On paper he was the obvious suspect. When other members of staff were asked about him they didn’t have a bad word to say. Yet this level of trust could have made it possible for him to carry off the role of informant beneath everyone’s noses.

  Maxine, already well known to both Amanda and Jeremy, was next on the list. She possessed both inside knowledge and the experience to aid the removal of the documents. Her cool, calm and collected demeanour, along with her efficiency in everything she did, suggested she was easily capable of pulling off a theft of such sophistication.

  When other members of the team were asked about Maxine, Amanda received various responses. Some gave glowing endorsements whilst others were less than complimentary. It was clear that Maxine’s somewhat stiff and abrupt manner was not to everyone’s liking.

  Maxine also lived alone, in the neighbouring town of Villefranche-sur-Mer, but she spent a great deal of her time at work, putting in hours to cover the absences of other members of the team. In this respect she was certainly an exemplary employee.

  Third on the list was Julien, Chaumert’s personal bodyguard, who had been in his service for five years. He was a rugged looking twenty-six-year-old with a stocky, muscular physique and icy blue eyes. He was a local to the south of France but was of no fixed address, having lived with his parents before taking the job. He now travelled with Chaumert wherever he went. Once again, Amanda found herself to m
ake an accurate judgement about him as they hadn’t met yet. That in itself was a testament to his ability to provide protection whilst remaining covert.

  The penultimate recipient of Amanda’s suspicions was an old lady by the name of Collette. Although not a member of the security team, she was certainly senior at the grand age of seventy-three. She was the cleaner whom Amanda had seen finding the body on the CCTV footage. She had been working for Chaumert as long as anybody could remember. Although she was officially just a cleaner she was more like Chaumert’s housekeeper as she took care of his washing and provided his lunch as well as helping to clean the building. She was a typically stoic old French lady and spent much of her time shoo-shooing everyone out of her way as if they were making a nuisance of themselves by interrupting her work rather than the other way round. She may have seemed an unlikely suspect to some – after all, what could she possibly want with documents that were surely incomprehensible to her? – but Amanda had discovered that she was in some financial difficulty having invested her entire pension fund in a local vineyard that subsequently suffered a run of bad seasons and now produced little more than grape juice. Furthermore, Collette was in possession of all the keys and codes for the safe, having declared that she needed access to tackle an infestation of cockroaches.

  The final suspect was none other than Monsieur Chaumert himself. Up until this point they had taken it for granted that he was the victim of the crime. However, it was wise to explore the possibility that he could have aided the criminals for some personal motivation that they were yet to uncover. The documents could be extremely valuable if sold to the right party and would certainly help to maintain the lifestyle of the Chaumert household. It was well known that Madame Chaumert had a penchant for designer clothes as well as the jewels, bags and shoes to go with them.

  The Chaumert family lived in an elegant house in the hills with a spectacular view and a large swimming pool. They also owned a chateau in the Loire valley as well as an apartment in the Sixteenth Arrondissement of Paris.

  The Chaumerts had two daughters and one son. Caroline was an aspiring dancer, while Patrice was a budding artist. Henri, the youngest of the three, was a promising academic. His parents had already decided that he was destined for a high-flying political career.

  Amanda arranged to meet Philippe, the head of security and top of her suspect list, that afternoon at a café in central Nice to conduct an interview with him regarding the theft. Although it was perhaps better to conduct the interview in a private office in the warehouse, Amanda wanted to be away from the other employees and had heard that this particular café served the best coffee in Nice, which was reason enough by itself to pay a visit.

  Philippe was a tall, handsome man, with a friendly smile and chocolate brown eyes. His olive skin had taken on a caramel hue from the Mediterranean sun and he looked far more youthful than his fifty-seven years of age. While he enjoyed the dark bite of a pure Arabica espresso, Amanda asked Philippe a series of questions relating to the theft but designed in such a way as to enable her to draw up a simultaneous character profile.

  ‘When did you first become alerted to the break-in?’

  ‘At six-forty a.m. I was contacted by a member of the security team on the early morning shift. I was at home at the time just getting ready to leave.’

  ‘Do you have any idea as to who may have been responsible?’

  ‘None. I am completely perplexed. Our security systems were supposed to be impenetrable!’

  ‘What do you think of your security team?’

  ‘They are all very hard-working and well-disciplined.’

  ‘Do you work closely with Maxine Lambert?’

  ‘Yes, she is an excellent employee, a credit to the company.’

  ‘Do you believe any member of your team could have been involved with the theft?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘Yes. Though... I am extremely annoyed with Jason. He is the person who was manning the CCTV and thermal imaging control centre at the time of the theft.’

  Amanda made a note to speak to this employee at a later date. Overall, Amanda found Philippe to be very warm as a character, but she also sensed that he was a person who liked to be in control. In his entire twelve years at the company there had never before been a security breach and it obviously rankled. He also expressed a feeling of personal responsibility for the unfortunate event that had occurred under his management.

  He became quite defensive when asked about his personal life, but through questioning those who knew him best Amanda soon discovered that Philippe was a man who favoured the company of other men. While this troubled neither Amanda nor the other staff, it could plausibly have been used for the purposes of blackmail. Philippe had never gone public about his sexuality and had thus far withheld the information from family members.

  Amanda decided to question him about the matter. He was at first slightly taken aback, his genial smile fading and being replaced by a look of shock, but he quickly regained his composure and answered her questions in a calm, composed manner.

  ‘My parents are of a different generation and have a small-town mentality.’

  Amanda didn’t press it any further. She judged Philippe to be an honest, genuine person and rather enjoyed his company. He certainly had an affinity for the finer things in life. That was immediately evident from his designer clothes, yet he had an air of contentedness about him. There was nothing to suggest a motive for the crime.

  Amanda ended the interview and returned to the hotel, which felt increasingly like home as time went on. She was stopped, however, as she entered by one of the concierges.

  ‘You have a call from a Monsieur Mertaux,’ the girl told her. ‘He requests that you call him as soon as possible. He stressed that it was a matter of some urgency.’

  The concierge escorted her straight to one of the small private meeting rooms where there was a cordless telephone and left her alone there. Amanda had to ring three times before she finally got through to Jeremy.

  ‘I’ve been trying to get through to you all day,’ Jeremy complained. ‘The device found in the warehouse has been traced to a manufacturer in Paris. SVHQ have also obtained information suggesting that the documents are being marketed for private sale in the capital. We are to travel there immediately.’

  Amanda learned that the plan was for them to meet one of the SVHQ agents, who would give them further guidance. TGV tickets for the following morning had already been purchased on their behalf.

  As Amanda lay in her bed that evening she almost had to pinch herself. It was hard to believe, but it was true: in the space of just a couple of weeks she had gone from being an average City worker to tracking criminals over two hundred miles across Europe on a matter of international espionage. But where would it all end?

  Chapter 11

  It was the dead of night in Paris. Most of the guests of the Saint James, an exclusive hotel and members’ club, had either retired to bed or were at private parties or other events. Darkness cloaked the grounds, though most of the windows at the front of the chateau situated imposingly on the Avenue Beaugeaud were still brightly lit. Sleek black vehicles with plush velvet or leather interiors filled the parking bays, many with blacked-out windows, each as anonymous as the next. Chauffeurs dozed lazily, listening to jazz music on the radio, or chatted on their mobile telephones, ready to spring into action even at this late hour.

  Downstairs in the building, the gym was deserted after another’s day’s busy use. On the top floor of the hotel the penthouse suites with private indoor terraces were similarly quiet, most of the businessmen occupying them having gone to bed. The dining room was also empty, save for a few waiting staff clearing away the last traces of a formal dinner.

  The historic library bar adjoining the dining room appeared at first glance to be empty. However, a more careful inspection might have revealed two dark figures huddled together, locked in conversation. Th
eir voices were so hushed that little more than a murmur would have been audible even to someone sitting at the neighbouring table.

  One of the men was small and slight, with a lithe, muscular physique. The other man was much taller and slimmer. He had an air of such menace that it seemed to create even more darkness around him, sucking any remaining light from the room. In his left hand he held a silver-topped black cane. The tall man pulled two photos from his inside breast pocket.

  ‘These two have already caused me much distress. They are involved in matters that do not concern them. I have called upon you as you have been recommended to me as an efficient eliminator of such unwanted… inconveniences.’

  ‘I am,’ came the assured reply.

  ‘Thus far I have been severely disappointed. No one seems capable of carrying out this simple task. I hope you will not disappoint me.’

  ‘I promise you I shan’t.’

  A black metal briefcase was produced from under the table at which they were seated.

  ‘This case contains a quarter of a million euros, just half the amount you will receive if the job is completed successfully.’

  The slight man grasped the case greedily and tried to open it, unsuccessfully.

  ‘The case is protected by an electronic coding system. You will receive the code when you deal with the first of your targets.’

  The speaker took the case back and entered the code discreetly, then showed the contents to his companion. It contained a quarter of a million euros in fifty-euro notes. He locked the case once again.

  ‘Here is your brief.’

  An envelope and the two photos were handed over. The first picture showed a tall, suave man, unmistakably French. The other was of a beautiful young woman. The recipient grunted appreciatively.