From Paris With Love (32 page)

I stared at him. The evidence may not be concrete yet, but it was certainly piling up.

‘I’ll be close to the royal couple but John Smith will be near you. The slightest whiff of a weapon and you tell him.’

I sighed.

‘Chin up, Agent G. Your mission has not been in vain. Whilst we’ve reached no definite conclusion, it’s enabled us to realise extra attention
does
need to be paid to the royals on Saturday – just to be on the safe side.’

I nodded, as Cindy reappeared and started breezily talking about how Pierre had offered me more weeks’ work, if I wanted to stay in France.

‘Decided what you’ll do yet, honey?’ said Cindy, now in a scarlet bomber jacket. ‘Either way, you’ve still got to come to your leaving bash here, on Sunday afternoon.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world – JC is making some of his chocolate tarts.’

‘You’re both gonna be missed, that’s for sure,’ said Cindy and pulled on her gloves. ‘Hugo’s invited Edward out for a game of boules tomorrow, after his last ever shift. And he asked you over for dinner with his family last night, didn’t he? How did that go?’

My chest glowed – it had been a huge surprise when Hugo approached me, yesterday morning. I’d been hoping to see Blade that evening but my rockstar friend texted me something about a gig – the first I’d heard of it – and didn’t sign off with one of his usual funny comments. So I’d gladly accepted the head waiter’s invitation, and met his lovely wife and adorable children.

‘Wicked – the kids were so cute. Len – Hélène – Hugo’s wife had the night off her supermarket job and went to such trouble. She cooked classic French onion soup with goats’ cheese croutons, followed by Beef Bourguignon. Once Herbert and Henri got back from football, they helped her make yummy macaroons, whist Hugo picked little Honore up from ballet and Heloise from her piano lesson.’

Cindy let out a long whistle. ‘That’s why I ain’t looking to settle down for a LONG time. Maybe I’m too selfish…’

‘Or perhaps you just love your career,’ I said.

‘Nothing wrong with that,’ said Joe, warmly, and stared at Cindy.

‘Takes a special kind of man to accept a woman who doesn’t want to be tied down, though,’ said my American pal. ‘I don’t mean emotionally – I’m as loyal as they come – but physically. If I wanna jump on a plane to go stay at a cookery school for two weeks, I don’t want no man telling me I can’t.’

Oh my God…! I just saw a soppy look on Joe’s face – could it be… was Agent Joe Bloggs finally falling in love? My eyes tingled as they left the restaurant holding hands… Not only was I a super-spy – Gemma Goodwin was a matchmaker supreme!

As they left, Edward strolled in, carrying various bags.

‘Been shopping?’ I asked.

Edward gave a shrug. ‘Yes. Thanks to knowing you, I quite enjoy ambling around a mall, looking for bargains.’

‘Hmm, it’s one of the more significant pastimes that I introduced you to. I hope you didn’t forget the most important thing…’

‘Coffee and cake halfway through?’ He shrugged again.

I eyed him closely. Edward had been distant ever since the meal on Tuesday, when I’d very firmly told him that nothing he’d say could change my mind.

‘So, what did you get?’

‘Gifts for everyone back at Applebridge Hall,’ he said, gruffly.

That was so typical of thoughtful Edward.

‘For Kathleen I bought a beautiful egg whisk, in the shape of the Eiffel Tower, and gourmet chocolates,’ he said. ‘For Father, a vintage, cherry wood French pipe to add to his already extensive collection. I hope birdwatcher Lady Constance will like a small silver brooch of a house martin, which is one of the most common feathered friends here in Paris. For estate manage Mr Thompson, a beret – to act as an alternative to his Sherlock Holmes hat.’

‘They’ll love them,’ I said. ‘Have you spoken to your dad, lately?’

‘Yes. The First World War commemorative events have got us both thinking that Applebridge Hall should get involved. We might arrange a charity event later this year, to raise money for ex-Service men and women.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘And on a far less serious level, the glittering view from the Sacre-Coeur made me realise we could make much more of the Hall’s exterior. Father has agreed to us putting up fairy lights at night – especially since the cookery courses at the Academy are now residential.’

‘He agreed to that?’

Edward finally smiled. ‘Yes. We both agreed it was something that we’d never have considered before you came into our lives.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, the place has to be at its best as our French friends have agreed to visit later in the year. Hugo jumped at my invitation to put up him and his family for a couple of weeks, I think it appealed to his money-saving nature.

‘Edward! Edward!’ The door had swung open and Mme Durand, the self-professed cougar, hurried in – her make-up as vibrant as ever, a sparkly scarf around her neck. She held her arms out to Edward, a small gift bag swinging from her wrist. She kissed him on either cheek and, eyes glistening, stood back.

‘I am just off on a leetle cruise and cannot make your leaving party on Sunday. So I bring you a gift to remember me by…’ She clasped her hands together. ‘Chez Dubois will not be the same without its handsome Englishman.’

Edward face had lit up. He placed his bags on the floor and slipped an arm around her shoulders. With a squeeze he spoke to her in French for several seconds. I picked out several words – the charmer was reassuring Mme Durand that she was totally unforgettable. A lovestruck schoolgirl expression crossed her face. And who could blame her for totally crushing on this unassuming Adonis with toned limbs, seductive lips and teasing eyes? Finally Edward took the bag and pulled out a silver padlock with keys.

‘It might be useful for your luggage,’ she said, blushing.

‘How considerate,’ he said. ‘Plus of course, it will remind me of the Pont des Arts…
Merci bien
!’

Aw, of course, the bridge Blade told me about where lovers affixed padlocks to the railings, as a symbol of their love, and threw away the key. Anyone else might have laughed at this woman’s attention. But not Edward, and I crushed a little bit, too, as ever courteous, he gently guided romantic Mme Durand to the bar, so that they could share one last coffee before his shift began.

I headed off home, mulling over the chances of me and Edward staying good friends, when back in England. But once back at my flat, I turned my attention to Blade and sent him a text – said I hoped the gig went well last night and could he come over. Eventually I got a reply – him saying tonight he was busy. So I told him it was a matter of international security.

Luckily that did the trick and he agreed to come over for dinner, at six. I spent the afternoon investigating John Smith again, online, hoping that if I presented all the information to Blade, he’d help me figure out what the creepy guy was up to. As it was, when Blade turned up, I could hardly get a comment out of him about anything, let alone a view on my very important investigation. Honestly, what was it with the men in my life, today?

‘Wine or a cup of coffee?’ I asked as he came in.

‘Got any tea?’

I grinned, once again bemused at his lack of rock’n’roll lifestyle. We sat down and I asked him how the gig went but he answered in monosyllables.

Well, you know me – I’m a forthright girl and couldn’t contain myself any longer.

‘Blade! What’s up? You haven’t been yourself for a couple of days? Where’s that wicked sense of humour?’ I lay my hand on top of his, but he pulled away. A lump formed in my throat. ‘Is it something I’ve done?’

‘No… Don’t worry – it’s… personal. I thought I could put right something that was very wrong but…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Ignore me. Us artists are temperamental beings. So, what did you want to talk to me about?’

‘Saturday,’ I said studying his face. The black eyeliner wasn’t straight and today Blade hadn’t bothered wearing any necklaces. ‘Joe wants you at the football stadium. With me. We’ve got security passes – are you in?’

He nodded. ‘If you really think I’ll be useful. Found any more information about Monique?’

I took a deep breath. ‘Brace yourself – Joe found a gun under her bed.’

‘What?’ Blade’s jaw dropped. ‘
Non
!’

‘Yes – but Joe still says that proves nothing. So all you and I can do is be vigilant in the crowd. John Smith will be near us, whilst Joe shadows the royal couple…And we – we also need to protect him.’

Blade raised his eyebrows and I proceeded to tell him about John’s proposal and how he intended to set Joe up.

Blade stared at me hard and then finally squeezed the top of my arm. ‘These little shoulders are strong – you have been carrying a lot of responsibility,’ he said, in a soft voice. ‘
Ma pucette
, I really admire you. I don’t know how I would have coped.’

‘Oh…Um… Thanks,’ I said, an electric sensation running down my arm. Blade was right. I’d actually been responsible about this secret service stuff. Despite my urges to approach Monique, I’d restrained myself, plus not told a soul. It… it made me feel good, to think – like last year – my actions could make a difference. Little old Gemma was becoming an accomplished cook, plus a person others could rely on. It felt good.

‘
Bon
– so this rogue agent, John, tell me everything…’ said Blade.

I took out some notes I’d made, glad to see him more like himself.

‘Let’s go through it one more time,’ he said, two hours later, as we finished a simple bolognese I’d rustled up.

With a groan, I picked up our dishes. We sat at the dining room table, by the balcony window. ‘Okay – but first let me bring over two coffees and a couple of mango mousse cakes I couldn’t resist buying from The Golden Croissant.’

Whilst Blade read over my notes for the umpteenth time, I prepared the drinks and desserts. When I returned to the table he was scribbling, in English, so that I could understand.

‘
Bon
, first Milan… We can find nothing to relate John to the fake designer factory or football match-fixing. As for the stole Etruscan artefacts…’

I shrugged. ‘John was investigating the existence of a terrorist cell. The only thing that could link him to that theft was his love of the finer side of life – jewellery and so on. He’s talked of visiting museums…’

‘But that’s a tenuous link,’ said Blade and my heart squeezed. That was just the sort of posh thing Edward would have said.

‘So, Bangkok… Do you think that John could be involved with drugs?’

‘Yes, that’s possible. As for the diamonds stolen from that Saudi family and turning up in Turkey…’ My shoulders bobbed up and down. ‘I don’t think he could give them away if he was involved – he’d love them too much!’

‘That brings us to Prague,’ said Blade. ‘You don’t think he’d have anything to do with child-trafficking.’

I shook my head.

‘Perhaps he was involved in the arms dealing…?’

‘Possible.’

‘Or the stealing of the Bohemian Crown Jewels?’ Blade gave a snort and threw down his pen. ‘This is going nowhere – it is like… How do you English say? Looking for a needle in a haystack. John’s extra-curricular activities are probably nothing to do with these news items that you have randomly picked.’

I sighed. ‘Agreed, it does seem mega hopeless – but this stuff is all we’ve got to go on.’ A large swig of strong coffee perked me up. ‘Pass the notes to me…’ I scanned them again. And again. The word jewellery kept popping up. It made me think of John’s love of expensive cufflinks and that time I saw him staring into a jewellery store on the Champs-Elysées. I looked at my finger – and how he’d admired the mood ring Blade bought me.

Hmm. I picked up my phone and once again logged onto a search engine. Milan… The Etrusan artefacts that went missing, included a fine bronze choker… Eventually a gang was interrogated but no evidence would stick. The ringleader came from the States and had a criminal record for theft…He was well-known by the courts in his hometown of…
Orangedog
.

My brow furrowed. Orangedog – where had I heard that name before? Stomach fluttering, I searched on the missing Saudi diamonds – again, an American from Orangedog had been arrested.

I squealed and clapped my hands. ‘Oh my God! Blade, I’ve worked out the connection between John and all these locations!’

‘What?’

‘Search on the missing Bohemian Crown Jewels from Prague – I bet one of the defendants being questioned was American, more specifically, a known criminal from a town called Orangedog…’

Heart pounding, I waited, whilst Blade tapped into his phone. ‘
Merde
! You are right… But how did you know?’

‘Agent John Smith loves jewellery and it makes perfect sense, now, that he is involved in thefts on a grand scale. In all three countries, some jewel or another has been taken, each case with a suspect from Orangedog. John owns a condo there. Part of it is chock-a-block full of criminals. He could have easily recruited thieves from there… Unless…’

‘Unless what?’

‘All of this is just a matter of coincidence.’

‘Coincidences are usually only that,’ said Blade.

‘True… But come on! Orangedog is an obscure place. What’s the likelihood of more than one criminal from there turning up abroad?’ I dug my spoon into the fruity mango mousse. ‘Now we just have to work out what on earth that has to do with the royal couple’s visit. Kate isn’t usually flamboyant enough to wear big jewels – certainly not at a commemorative event, during the daytime…’

Blade studied the notes again. ‘Are you finally going to tell Joe about all this?’

‘Noooo… No, not just yet. It might be easier to see exactly how John means to set up his colleague, if Joe doesn’t suspect anything. What do you reckon?’

Blade paused. ‘
Oui
– it is risky, but I agree. However if nothing happens you must tell Joe about this, before you leave, on Sunday. He should cover his back by reporting John to his superiors at MI6.’

I nodded.

‘Right…’ Blade stood up. ‘Time I was going.’

I glanced at my watch. ‘But it is only…Ah. Quarter to eleven! Where has the evening gone?’ I bit my lip, for some reason not wanting Blade to leave.