Francine’s phone pinged and she lifted it to read. “Well, now we definitely have to speak to the Iranians again.”
“What do you have?”
“My contacts got back to me about the vineyard that sent the crates of extra-special wine.” She paused dramatically. “Yeah, they’re registered as a company that also does a lot of contract work for NAJA.”
“The Iranian police.” Manny slumped in his chair. “This is just getting worse.”
“But this is interesting.” Francine smiled at me. “The company’s name is Fereydoon Farrukhi Industries.”
I blinked. “FF. The two letters in the centre of Adèle’s chart didn’t stand for her business Freedom Fragrances.”
“It stood for Fereydoon Farrukhi—the Iranian company.” Vinnie scratched his head. “What was she doing with the business model for this company?”
“We have a problem.” Daniel stood next to Vinnie, his face pale. “An officer told the officers stationed at Adèle’s house that he was relieving them, so they left. He was wearing a uniform, spoke flawless French, but looked Arabic.”
“Impersonating an officer?” Francine’s eyebrows were high on her forehead. “That’s already bad enough. But an Iranian cop posing as a French cop? Ooh. Really, really bad.”
“Bloody hell.” Manny’s whisper was loud in my room. He pushed himself up. “I need to speak to the president.”
Chapter EIGHTEEN
“And I suspect Adèle planned to put the heroin in the paint, then use a 3D printer to mass-produce these paintings and sell them to distributors.” Colin sat back as he finished his part of the briefing.
President Raymond Godard’s eyebrows rose. “Would that have worked?”
“Possibly.” Colin thought about this. “She would’ve needed a great chemist to make sure the paint-drug mixture is correct and also the way they would extract the drug would have to be very precise.”
Manny, Colin and I were in the president’s residence here in Strasbourg, where he had also his office. It had a very similar design to the Salon Doré, or the Golden Room in the élysée Palace in Paris, an office that had served as the personal study for many French presidents. The gilded filigree on the walls, doors, tables and chairs made the name of the room self-explanatory, as did the ceiling-to-floor golden curtains. Everything in this room was a work of art, including the chandelier above us and the beautiful ceiling.
We were seated on wingback chairs at a round table next to the president’s antique desk. It had been only two and half hours ago when Manny had called the president and had revealed our findings.
The president had assured us that Amin, Shahab and Hamid would be here when we arrived. They were currently waiting in the adjoining conference room with the Iranian ambassador. The president had insisted on first getting all the information before walking into a conversation that could have devastating political and economic repercussions for both countries.
He looked at Manny. “Tell me everything you found out about the men next door.”
“We don’t have much.” Manny grunted in frustration. “They entered the country eleven days ago—a day before Adèle was murdered. They rented a charcoal-coloured SUV at the airport, using a credit card issued to a company registered in Iran.”
“The same company that sent the wine?”
“No. This company is more transparent. They do all the arrangements for accommodation and transport for official trips by Iranian law enforcement officers.”
“Was that SUV the one that was pursuing Colin and Genevieve?”
“We’re not sure.” Manny had uttered a few rude phrases in frustration when we’d not been able to find a lot more information. “The car that blew up was definitely not the one these guys rented. I got the Iranians’ GPS information from the rental company. They’d successfully manipulated the car’s system to show they were only at their hotel, at shopping malls and a few tourist sites. We were also not able to find much information on them personally. My sources tell me that it’s most likely because they’re not on anyone’s watchlist.”
“Well, why don’t we go and speak to them and find out more.” President Godard got up and we followed him to the door connecting his office to the conference room.
It wasn’t a large room, but the high ceilings created the impression of space. The dark wood of the rectangular table in the centre of the room was highlighted by the bright white walls and classical décor.
The leader of the three men, Amin, was sitting at the table next to a middle-aged man. Both men got up when President Godard entered the room.
President Godard shook the older man’s hand. “Ambassador Sirvan Kanian. Please forgive me for making you wait so long.”
“Oh, it’s no problem at all, President Godard.” His smile was genuine. He liked the president. “You know how I always enjoy our meetings. But I must say that I’m slightly perplexed as to why we are here.”
President Godard gestured at the chairs and we sat down. I studied the ambassador. The president had told us about this man. His Oxford education was evident in his accent as he spoke English. We were also told that he was highly intelligent and, despite being open to many trade and cultural agreements, he was still very conservative.
“We’ll get to that in a second.” President Godard introduced himself to Amin. “Where is the rest of your team?”
“They’re waiting in the reception area.” The ambassador answered before Amin could. “We thought it would be best for only their team leader to be here.”
Amin’s reaction to the ambassador’s words was telling. I narrowed my eyes, determined to observe every micro-expression. “You suspect something.”
Amin looked at me, trying to school his features into a more neutral expression. “Yes. I told you this morning we were here about the artefacts.”
President Godard held out his hand to stop my response. “This is not what Doctor Lenard meant and you know it.”
Ambassador Kanian looked at Amin. “What are they talking about?” He looked at the president. “Please explain what is going on here.”
“We’ve had four brutal murders which are all connected to each other. More importantly, they are all connected to drugs being smuggled into France from Iran.”
Amin closed his eyes, his expression resigned.
The ambassador’s lips thinned and he straightened in his chair. “That is an outrage. You have to know that we have nothing to do with any of that. We fight so hard against all the drugs entering our country, yet it sometimes feels like a losing battle. Anything, we’ll do anything to help.”
I looked at Amin. “Tell us what you know.”
“I really wished it wasn’t true. I didn’t want to find any evidence here to confirm my suspicions.”
“Was this drug investigation your true mission?” the ambassador asked Amin.
“We were here for the artefacts too.” He glanced at Colin. “Apparently, some pieces have been found and will go back with us.”
“The drugs?” President Godard asked.
Amin crossed his arms, then immediately uncrossed them. “My team is only one of many investigating crimes. But we were tasked with finding out who was looting our cultural heritage and selling it to the West. We don’t mind that it’s on display in museums, but at the end of the day these pieces belong to the people of Iran. It’s our history.” He took a calming breath. “The more we investigated the artefacts, the more evidence we found that connected recent exports of heroin to the art.
“I contacted the narcotics team about the drugs. They specialise in finding these dealers and stopping the in-and outflow of narcotics. They told me that they’ve been trying to shut down one specific syndicate, but the leader has been one step ahead of them all the time. Apparently, this syndicate is so good that we don’t even know the names of the players.”
“Why were you in the café?” Manny asked.
Amin glanced at the ambassador, who nodded. He then looked at Manny. “We received intel that the young man had knowledge of the artefacts and possibly the drugs.”