“Which is why we have come to you,” Roblot said. “I am just a humble police officer. These international banking scenarios are beyond my area of expertise.”
“That’s what these kinds of criminals count on,” Louise said. “They intentionally take what should be straightforward, traceable transactions and send them through a maze of companies and banks, thinking no one will take the time to sort them out. So, do you have any evidence that suggests Mayer was just a fall guy?”
“After Mayer was arrested, I personally questioned his wife who said three men dressed in black grabbed her off the street, threw her into a car, and took her to her hotel room, which they ransacked and took her passport. They then took her to the police station and cancelled her return plane ticket to the United States.”
“And you believed her?” Louise asked.
“Why would she make that up?” Roblot said. “Whoever took her to police headquarters was not ordered to do so by me.” Roblot continued to paint a picture. “Another officer, Paul Dupont from the Criminal Police Division became involved in the investigation. The CPD has three departments. Dupont was superintendent of criminal investigations. There are also the Criminal Identity and Resources departments. The Criminal Identity department coordinates with Interpol.”
Louise’s eyes widened. The first time she had been introduced to Interpol, the love of her life, Jean-Philippe de Villeneuve, was recruiting her to become an informant. “And you think the Criminal Identity department and officer Dupont were working autonomously?”
“That seems obvious to me if I believe Mrs. Mayer, who seemed to be telling the truth.” Roblot finished his champagne with one gulp then took the champagne bottle from the ice bucket and refilled Louise’s glass.
He started to refill Charlie’s glass, but he waved him off. “I think I’ll switch to something a little stronger,” Charlie said.
Roblot poured the rest of the champagne into his glass and plunged the empty bottle upside down into the ice bucket. Charlie took this as a signal to retrieve another bottle. Roblot shook his head in self-reflection and continued. “There are also the Division of Administrative Police responsible for the movement of foreign nationals through Monaco’s borders, as well as the Maritime and Airport Police Divisions that police the seas and skies of Monaco.”
“Sounds like there are a lot of moving parts to this story,” Louise surmised.
“A multi-dimensional chess game,” Charlie rejoined.
“Monaco intentionally built separation of powers into its system of controls,” Roblot explained. “For example, the medical examiner is part of the justice department, not the police department. The ME’s report becomes part of the attorney general’s case for prosecution. My department has no control over that report. The Monaco prosecutor claimed Todd Mayer tested positive for drugs and alcohol. But records from Princess Grace Hospital proved that, contrary to the Monaco prosecutor’s claim, Todd Mayer had no alcohol or drugs in his system.”
“So, you think someone influenced the prosecutor?”
“That’s one possibility. Also, Mayer’s wife claimed that her husband’s actual statement was different than what was officially reported as his confession. She claimed he confessed only to lighting the fire in a wastebasket to set off the fire alarm. But, during the interrogation, officers showed Mayer his wife’s passport and told him she was being detained for questioning too.”
“Intimidation tactics,” Charlie said.
“It gets worse,” Roblot said. “They then proceeded to constrain Mayer, catheterize, and keep him awake for three days to interrogate him, after which, he confessed to stabbing himself and that there were no intruders. They forced him to sign the confession written in French with no English translation.
Louise shook her head. “Let me guess. He doesn’t speak French.”
“Correct. Mayer doesn’t speak a word of French.”
“Weren’t there surveillance videotapes?” Louise asked.
Roblot tapped his temple. “Excellent question, Ms. Moscow,” he said. “The tapes have also vanished. The judge received a blank tape and an old tape showing guests arriving at a party. Subsequently, someone discovered one of the original tapes, but the authorities won’t publicly reveal what is on it. I’m no longer with the police department so I have no way of viewing it.”
“So, the Monégasque authorities have no idea you are working this case?” Louise asked.
“Correct. And they must never find out that I am working on behalf of a third party who is only interested in the truth.”
“Your integrity is refreshing,” Louise said.
“Louise,” Charlie pressed. “Not only is this your exit strategy off the island. This could be an opportunity to bring down the very people who forced you into protection in the first place.”
“You don’t have to do the hard sell, Charlie,” Louise assured him. “After 9/11, I can no longer sit safely on my island and do nothing. But what exactly can I do to help?”
“We have some leads for you to pursue,” Roblot said. “It will be necessary for you to infiltrate certain regions of France.”
“When would you like me to start?” Louise asked.
Charlie intervened on her question. “According to my source, not until you get the proper tools.”
“Tools?”
“Since you’re eager to accept this assignment,” Charlie said, “you’ll be outfitted with the latest ‘tricks of the trade.’ Technology has changed since you’ve been here. Is there a time when no customers are at your bar?”
“No divers on Wednesdays,” Louise said.
“I should have received everything you’ll need and will be in touch next week,” Charlie said.
“In the meantime,” Roblot added, “we will wire $50,000 to an offshore account that you will have access to.”
“Who’s funding all this?” Louise asked.
“Not all wealthy people are corrupt,” Roblot said. “Some use their wealth to get into heaven.”
N I N E
December 21, 2001
Stingrays formed a constellation above Louise. Suspended in the blue abyss, Louise breathed calmly through her regulator and checked her tank, 1,000 PSI. She had ventured only 30 feet down the reef wall for a quick morning dive. It had been months since she had been underwater, and the Caribbean was calling her. She wore a neoprene bikini with no wetsuit, so she ascended to fifteen feet to avoid lowering her body temperature too much. After a five-minute safety stop, she swam back toward the shore but spotted an easy catch and dove for it.
Big Steve had waded out from the shore and was looking for Louise, when suddenly a gloved hand holding a lobster broke the surface, pinchers waving in the air. Louise’s arm appeared, then her head and torso as she walked up the sandy bottom like a Bond Girl.
She pulled the regulator from her mouth. “Breakfast!”
“Damn, woman, y’all gave me a fright!”
“I was just checking out the reef.” She handed Big Steve the lobster and her flippers then removed her facemask.
“I was looking everywhere for you when I saw bubbles on the surface. Y’all need to let a brother know before y’all disappear.”
Louise rested the tank against the dock and removed the buoyancy vest. Big Steve picked up the equipment and handed Louise the lobster just as the Marlow yacht pulled up to the dock.
“Good morning!” Charlie shouted.
Louise waved the lobster and shouted, “Welcome ashore!”
Charlie and Roblot docked and followed Louise and Big Steve into the Tiki bar. Still in her two-piece bathing suit, Louise towel-dried her hair, then went behind the bar.
“Coffee?” The men nodded yes, and she poured three cups. “Big Steve is making fresh lobster omelets. Have a seat.”
“If I had known you were diving for lobster this morning, I would have come earlier and joined you,” Charlie said.
“It was a whim,” Louise said. “I had the feeling it would be a w
hile before I got back into the water again.”
Charlie placed a duffle bag on one of the tables. “We come bearing gifts.”
Louise put the coffee on the next table over. “Let’s have breakfast and then you can show me what you got.”
They sat, and Big Steve brought plates of perfectly cooked omelets filled with fresh lobster.
“I won’t report you for the lobster,” Charlie said. “It looks too good to pass up.”
“Eating lobster is illegal?” Roblot asked, stressing the last syllable of ille-GAL in his French accent.
“It must be caught free diving, and I was wearing a tank, so technically, I caught the lobster illegally,” Louise said. “But, considering all the times I snorkeled and didn’t take any, it all evens out. Bon appétit!”
After they cleaned their plates, Charlie took the items out of the duffle bag and spread them on the bar as though presenting them at the latest tech convention.
“You’re going to love this,” Charlie said, picking up the first item. “This is a government issued GlobalCom handheld satellite phone. It provides voice and data service in remote areas. They are primarily used on cruises and hunting trips.”
“Sounds expensive. My Nokia works fine.”
“You can’t even see your screen half the time,” Big Steve said.
“Well, excuse me, I didn’t get a secret spy phone from my dad like you did.”
“All costs are covered,” Charlie said.
Louise took the sleek GlobalCom satellite phone and used the up and down arrows to scroll the contacts. “There are already a bunch of numbers programmed in. My dad, Michael…”
“Check this out,” Charlie said, taking out a silver slab with an Apple logo on it. “A Mac Titanium PowerBook G4. It’s a mind-blowing product, just one inch thick.” He booted it up and walked her through the basic functions. “It’s a laptop computer that allows you to write documents, even surf the Internet and upload photos. Speaking of photos,” Charlie said, taking what appeared to be a normal pen and handed it to Louise. She clicked it a couple times.
“You might want to use it sparingly, so you don’t run out of memory,” Charlie said.
“Memory?”
“May I?” Charlie took the pen, and he pointed to the tiny lens at the top. “It looks and works just like an ordinary pen, except that it has a hidden camera. It operates with a simple click of the pen to start recording and click to stop recording. There are three modes: audio, photo, and video. The resolution is quite decent.”
“Whatch ya’ll need these fo?” Big Steve asked. Louise could tell he was getting protective by his pursed lips and flared nostrils.
“They have asked me to work on an investigation, Big Steve. You can hold down the fort here.” Big Steve put his fists together in front of his body and puffed up his chest, which Louise knew was his way of protesting.
“Most importantly,” Roblot added, handing Louise a packet. “This is a photocopy of all my notes on the investigation. This is top secret so please be very discrete.”
“I’ll keep it very close,” Louise said, placing the packet inside the computer bag.
“Well, thank you for breakfast,” Charlie said, getting up from the table.
“One more thing,” Charlie said. “You will be traveling in France so you might want to change your look.”
“I’ll figure something out,” Louise said, accepting the challenge.
“We already have,” Charlie said. “There are more things in the duffle for you.” He handed Louise an envelope. “Here are your plane tickets, identification, and bank card. I’ll text you the PIN.”
Louise looked inside the envelope to find a one-way ticket to New York City, leaving the next day, the bank card and her new passport, all in the name of Karen Baker. The passport picture was her, but the hair was much darker. Charlie caught her surprised expression as it sunk in.
“Yep, I even included a way to help you match the photo,” he said, pointing to the duffle bag. “Please stay in close contact.”
“I’ll call you with any updates,” Louise said, pointing to new phone. They shook their hands and left. She turned to Big Steve who remained silent. “Come on Éti, Karen Baker needs to get ready.”
Big Steve paced back and forth outside the open door of Louise’s bungalow. “You can’t leave me here to tend the Tiki bar all by myself, Lulu! What if the books don’t add up?” Louise came out of the bathroom, wearing a kimono with her hair wrapped in a towel.
“Big Steve, you do the bookkeeping better than I do. Remember the time you solved that error? It was driving me nuts and you went right in and found it.”
He dismissed her argument with a wave of his hand. “You can’t be travelin’ ’round all by yo’ self.”
Louise packed toiletries into her carry-on bag and looked in the closet. “None of my island wardrobe will work for this trip, except for maybe one thing.” She flipped through pieces that hung in the back from her treasured collection of Myrna Loy outfits worn in “The Thin Man” movies.8 Louise’s great aunt had been the costumer at MGM during the 1930s and 40s and took possession of the Loy collection after the series ended. Louise had fallen in love with the stylish garb as a child, and after her aunt died, she inherited the whole collection. She selected one item. It was a burgundy pencil dress with short puffy sleeves, a notched neckline, and a small rounded collar. “I’ll have to go shopping in New York.”
She went to her bed and picked up a well-loved stuffed pig, squeezed it and kissed its snout. “Sorry, Squeaky. You have to stay home this time.” She placed the pig back on her pillow and unwrapped the towel from her head, revealing her new hair style cut into a bob and dyed dark brown with the supplies Charlie provided.
Big Steve’s eyes opened almost as wide as his mouth. “Whatch’ y’all done to yo’ hair?”
“You don’t like it?” Louise looked in the mirror and puckered her lips in satisfaction. “Pas mal.”
“Not bad?” Big Steve said. “I don’t even recognize y’all!”
“That’s the point.”
“At least lemme’ call my buddy who I used to bodyguard Michael Jackson with to meet y’all in New York.”
Louise walked over and gave Big Steve a kiss on the cheek. “Stop worrying,” she said, closing the bungalow door on him. He remained outside the door speechless for a moment, then went back to his work at the bar, leaving Louise to finish preparing for her trip.
T E N
December 22, 2001
It was a perfect winter morning in paradise. Palm fronds rustled in the breeze, waves lapped the shoreline, and boat fenders banged gently against the dock keeping a syncopated beat.
But the serenity was lost on Big Steve, who came out to the bar sleepily mumbling his protest.
“Undercover espionage bullshit.”
He flipped the switch turning off the Christmas lights on the palm tree and started a pot of coffee.
Louise walked in wearing fitted black jeans, leather biker boots, and black leather jacket, contrasting starkly with the tropical setting. Big Steve handed her a coffee, which she drank gratefully.
“Allez, on y va,” Louise said, picking up her small suitcase and a computer bag containing the new gadgets and walking out to the dock.
Big Steve followed her. “You ain’t gonna blend in anywhere lookin’ like dat, Karen!” he said, getting one more dig on her name.
Louise ignored him. “Come on. You need to drop me at the airport and get back here before any customers arrive. If anybody asks, I’m off on an extended yoga retreat.”
Big Steve loaded her bags and climbed aboard. Louise took the helm and after an hour at cruising speed, they arrived at Blossom Village located at the southwest tip of Little Cayman. Louise pulled up to the public dock, and Big Steve took the helm.
“Merci, mon ami.” Louise gave Big Steve a kiss on each cheek and hopped out. “Don’t forget to fill up the tank before you head back.” She walked up the dock pulling the
rolling suitcase and carrying the computer bag.
“Lemme know when y’all get there!” Big Steve shouted.
Louise gave a backhanded wave and continued walking another 200 yards to the airport terminal. The towering palm trees waving in the warm breeze seemed to beckon her to stay. She ignored them and arrived at the 600-square-foot structure. A tattered wooden sign nailed over the porch read Edward Bodden Airport. Louise entered the screen door and checked in for her flight, then went back out to wait with the other passengers under the small hanging wood sign indicating Terminal A Gate #1.
Two pilots and nine passengers boarded the Short Takeoff and Landing Turboprop De Havilland DHC-6-300 Twin Otter aircraft. Louise took a seat just behind the cockpit to observe the pilots flying the craft that had about the same horsepower as her speedboat. She pondered getting through security and customs at the main airport with heightened security since 9/11. This was her first time heading back to a whole different world, with a whole different appearance since the trial.
The plane took off, fishtailing gently toward her new life. After less than half an hour they landed in Grand Cayman. She disembarked and went to the terminal to withdraw cash from an ATM using the new bank account debit card. Then she hopped on a direct flight to New York City JFK International Airport, arriving at 8:04 p.m. in the same time zone she had left.
Louise would need a car to visit her parents so she figured she might as well rent one at the airport. She chose one of the National Emerald Club cars available in the parking lot and threw her things in the trunk. As she drove into Manhattan, she was expecting a gloomy post-September 11th atmosphere. But instead she was greeted by surprisingly busy streets, Christmas shoppers and tree merchants doing a brisk business. It was as though people were more determined than ever to celebrate holiday traditions. She also noted the yuletide shrines of roses and American flags for those lost on that day, as well as the open doors of the fire stations inviting conversations with the first responder heroes. Yet, it was the altered skyline that was the most jarring sight, the Twin Towers missing like a phantom limb.
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