“Hey, what the hell are you doing?”
Nikki looked up to find Commissaire Dumont standing before her. Immediately, she sat up straighter, placing her hands on her desk. “Planning my day,” she said.
“How did it go with Riske?” he asked.
“It went.”
“Meaning?”
“He’s an arrogant one. Coming into our office, asking of our time to help solve his client’s problem. An English client, I’m sure.”
“You might want to cut him some slack.”
“I already have enough on my desk as it is. You know what he’s looking for? A letter.”
“Must be important.”
“You’re joking?”
Dumont sat on the edge of her desk. “Something I didn’t tell you. The time we worked together tracking down that English girl…Riske had done his homework. He warned me that her boyfriend had connections to an Eastern European syndicate. He suggested that we go in heavy. Bring backup. I didn’t believe him. I was like you. I thought he was a lightweight. We didn’t have the kid anywhere on our radar. I thought he was just some punk. Simon didn’t argue. We went in just the two of us. I was armed. He wasn’t. We knock. The door opens and there’s this guy standing there with a gun pointed right at me. He fired before I could draw my weapon.”
“You took two bullets.”
“In the hip and thigh because Riske shoved me out of the way…which left him standing unprotected not two feet from this coked-up maniac waving his gun around.”
“You didn’t say anything about Riske being shot.”
“He wasn’t. The guy’s gun jammed. At least, I think it did. We never really talked about it afterward. All I can say is I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.” Dumont snapped his fingers. “Like that, it was over. The guy was down, his arm broken so badly the bone was sticking clean through his sweater, and screaming like a stuck pig. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling so sorry for myself and my two lousy bullet wounds.” Dumont leaned closer. “I guess I’m trying to say that Riske saved my life. So give him a hand. For me.”
“I’m nailed to my desk for another eighty days. Lieutenant’s orders.”
“I’ll talk to him. Get out of here.”
“Really?”
“Move it.”
Nikki grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair. “Oh,” she said, scooting out the door. “And, Commissaire, there’s a witness coming up. He’s all yours.”
Chapter 19
When Simon returned to the hotel, his seat in the gallery was available. He read a copy of the New York Times Global Edition, keeping one eye on the lobby. Fifteen minutes passed before he spotted the chief of security, bustling across the lobby in the company of another Middle Eastern guest. Their manner was serious yet intimate and bespoke a relationship as much personal as professional. The two men stopped at the concierge’s desk. The head of security made his goodbye and headed Simon’s way.
“Excuse me.” Simon stood as the hotel security man passed. “Do you have a moment?”
The man stopped at once, giving him his full attention. “Of course,” he said, trained smile at the ready. “How may I help?”
“My name is Riske. I’m a guest of the hotel. I was hoping we might speak.” He offered his business card, which stated his affiliation with a firm called Special Protective Services and Investigations and listed addresses in London, Hong Kong, and New York. “Mr.…?”
“Delacroix,” he replied, coming to attention. “Jean-Jacques Delacroix.”
“It’s a matter of some importance. If you’ll allow me to explain.”
Delacroix studied the card, then looked Simon up and down. “Follow me.”
Delacroix’s office was located in a suite behind the reception. The room was small, windowless, and orderly. He studied the card before sitting, glancing at Simon as if deciding whether the man matched the profession. Finally, he gestured to a chair. “Please,” he said. “I’m always happy to be of service to a fellow professional.”
As Simon sat, he took in the photographs decorating the wall. There was Delacroix in combat gear, arms around fellow soldiers, looking weary and victorious. By the location, Simon guessed somewhere in Africa. There was a framed diploma from the military academy at Saint-Cyr. And a commendation from France’s defense department with a medal attached nearby.
“You served?” he asked.
“Parachute brigade. Twenty years. And you?”
“In a different field,” Simon answered, allowing Delacroix to imagine what he wished.
“Am I correct in guessing this has something to do with the prince?”
“Yes,” said Simon, then in a bit of impromptu: “Did my office call ahead? They’re a bit rattled about this one.”
“No. They didn’t blow your cover, if that’s what you mean. I haven’t stopped answering questions about the robbery since it happened.”
“I’m sorry to make matters worse.”
“That’s why I’m here,” said Delacroix. “Fire away.”
Simon cleared his throat and assumed what he considered to be his professional voice, a little deeper, a little smoother. “First, I must ask that you treat our conversation as absolutely confidential.”
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it’s best to get these things out of the way.”
The Frenchman made a show of spreading his hands. A man with nothing to hide.
Simon paused before continuing, studying Delacroix as if deciding whether he could trust him. “My firm has been retained by persons with close ties to Saudi Arabia. I don’t need to tell you the position he holds in his country.”
“Naturally.”
“What you may not know is that at the time of the robbery, he was carrying sensitive government documents. Highly confidential. Were anyone unfriendly to our interests—and those include the interests of France—to get their hands on them, the damage would be incalculable.”
Delacroix nodded, giving away nothing.
“He didn’t mention anything about these to you?”
“No.”
Simon considered this, nodding in a gesture of some relief, before assuming a new tack. “The prince is a frequent guest. Is that correct?”
“He stays with us from time to time.”
“Once a year?”
“Twice, at least. Often four or five times.”
“And it is his practice to travel with large sums of money?”
“As do many of our guests.”
“So you’re familiar with his security arrangements?”
“Intimately. It’s my job to ensure his safety and that of his family and his possessions when he is a guest.”
“I imagine he keeps the money in the hotel’s safe.”
“I can’t comment on the prince’s actions. We do, however, dispose of a strong room to keep our guests’ valuables secure at all times. It’s small but impregnable. Guests make use of it to store their jewelry and other items of particular value.”
“And I understand he travels with his own staff when he leaves the hotel.”
“Team of five. Four junior, who vary each trip. One senior, who’s been with him forever. A Punjabi. Name of Vijay.”
“Do you coordinate arrangements with this Vijay?”
“The prince prefers to work directly with me. He respects my expertise in these matters.”
“Best to keep it between two professionals.”
“It’s the wise thing to do.”
“I couldn’t agree more. That’s why I’m speaking with you. One professional to another.” Simon scooted to the edge of his chair. “What other arrangements did you provide? Check his room for bugs? Countersurveillance sweeps?”
“Again, I can’t answer for the prince, but those are services that can be provided to any client upon request.”
“And if you had provided those services,” Simon went on, “hypothetically…did you have occasion to alert him of any unwanted attention?”
“If we had, the prince would have had nothing to worry about…hypothetically.”
“No undue attention?”
“None that I’m aware of.”