Knockout! A Passionate Police Romance (16 page)

“The Nereus is a beautiful boat.” She said as if to concentrate on business.

“Sure - at that price it’s got to be good,” he replied with a rueful grin, “I’ve got salt in my blood. When mom moved to Monterey I had a fishing boat and used to go out catching dinner and seeing all those fantastic whales and stuff.”

“Fishing? The Nereus is not a fishing boat.”

“I know - it was a thing left over from being kids - you know Ramon - the kid from the trailer park- he dreamed of having a boat- wanted to catch food for the family. We used to fish off the beach or off the pier at Santa Cruz. He stopped and seemed to be thinking.

“Where have you gone Freddie?” She asked, tossing a pebble into his lake of contemplation.He did not respond. She knew this was not a spot to push, that just beneath the skin was a bruise. She watched him looking down like a boy who had scuffed his new shoes playing football.

She kissed his cheek and sprang up. It was time to get ready for dinner. She glanced back at him, still sitting on the bed. There was something in his soul that made him both unknowable and more loveable. He was world cruiser-weight champion- one of the toughest guys on the planet – and yet there seemed to be no trace of violence within him. Only when she pushed at his office door did she see the iron in his soul. That world of meetings with Mafia lawyers and what he had called “the project” was off limits. As a cop she knew it looked bad. Maybe for the final time she bundled up all the debris of her fears and desires and stored them out of sight. She showered, brushed her raven hair until it shone and dressed in her beaded oyster top and matching trousers. She added a little perfume, took a deep breath and thought of food.

“You’re incredibly beautiful.” He whispered as they entered the restaurant.

He looked doubly gorgeous in a cream jacket, white silk shirt and black trousers. The width of his shoulders seemed to expand each time she looked at him.

The Maitre D' only too aware of who Freddie was, showed them to a secluded table by a window overlooking the city. As they sipped aperitifs her heart began to leap and thump inside her chest so that she was breathless. Entering the restaurant was Inspecteur Raymond Du Maurier of Interpol - the very man who had sent her Freddie’s file. He spotted her immediately and excused himself from a group of Chinese men. Anna immediately realized that they were a visiting delegation of Hong Kong police officers - one of whom she had met at a conference.

“Anna!” he gushed as he approached the table at full speed.

She decided she had to go for broke...

“Ciao - Signor Pandolfi . Che grande sorpresa - come va?

Inspecteur Du Maurier stopped with a quizzical expression on his face, searching Anna’s eyes for clues as to what was going on.

“Ah - si.” He began, mercifully picking up on her urgent signals.

“Ti prego - dire nulla.” She urged.

She could see that he was thinking. From somewhere she had recalled that Du Maurier had worked with the Italian art squads and that he spoke Italian. She was fairly sure that Freddie did not.

“Capito.” He replied - glancing at Freddie and catching on that something very unusual was unfolding. She had to be careful. Her lover had lived in California and had a good grasp of Spanish and could easily pick up on Italian. She hit him with an animated tidal wave of Italian on the subject of a fictitious motor cruiser moored at Rimini that Signor Pandolfi had purchased from Leyton Marine.

Then she introduced him to Freddie, who stood, smiling.

“Grand plaisir.” Said the Inspecteur falteringly as if these were his only words of French.

The Chinese guys shuffled awkwardly as a waiter battered them in incomprehensible French. Du Maurier backed away to rescue his guests, speaking back to the waiter in Italian as they were shown to a distant table.

Freddie was delighted.

God - you are so fantastic Anna - speaking in Italian - God I love you more and more.”

Anna sat down gratefully and tried to look urbane and cool while her heart still pounded.

“What a strange little guy,” he chuckled “why is an Italian wandering around in France with a gang of Chinese guys?”

“He has an auto components business with a big office here in Lyon. They supply Renault and have a lot of the parts made in China. I just know him because he bought a boat a couple of years back.” She answered casually.

Freddie nodded seriously as he accepted the tale. The breadth and depth of her dishonesty appalled her. She had become an instant fantasist. She drew the story from an Interpol case involving fake car brakes. The boat in Rimini was pure off the cuff dreamland. One day he would realize that his lover was a liar. Maybe he would never know the extent of her undercover training - she could hardly tell him now!

After dinner they took a stroll in the old town. The air was cool and slightly damp forming melancholy haloes around the dim street lamps. She snuggled into him as he swept his muscular arm around her. She felt a profound sense of safety and protection in his grip. Their love was rolling on beyond mad attraction. She knew that ahead must be a crash. He talked of his plans for sons, for the vineyard, for a restaurant in Paris. He dreamed of summer days at sea, picnics with champagne, a house in San Francisco. She listened, knowing that she would never be part of his future. It would be a case of what she could salvage from the wreck of her life that could be minutes, hours or days away.

That night, they did not make love but lay spooned like puppies in a litter. For the first time in her life she knew the profound passion of sleep within the soul of another being.

It was 7.30 am when she saw the face of her mobile light up. The office would only contact an undercover officer in emergency. Freddie lay sleeping. She squinted at the screen. The message was direct from Judy:

“Scappaticci and Tondelli both at hotel in Juan-Les-Pins, Beaumont going nuts and wants you pulled out. Christine Jones has overruled him and says she just wants results. We need to know what is on his phone! I’m up early because Raymond Du Maurier phoned me at home to check things out. Told me you were nearly uncovered and that photos of you with Freddie in Paris are all over the French gossip magazines. Money still pouring on Brennan. Keep safe and stay in touch.”

Anna lay back thinking. She had a job to do. They needed to show conspiracy between the players. Good or bad she loved him and would be there for him. The truth was the truth and it had to be known.

She saw his mobile on the table beside the bed. She slipped out and recovered the neutral SIM card that Judy had hidden in her laptop case. She grasped his mobile and crept to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. The phone was switched on. It was a familiar NOKIA model that she knew how to handle. In seconds she had the removed the battery and SIM card and punched in a default code. Ninety seconds later the contents of his phone were stored on the card. She replaced his old card and switched on. It was pin protected. She used the bidet, dried and slid back into the room as he began to stir. She tossed the phone on the floor by his bed, and then entered from his side, kissing his lips as she straddled him with her legs. Her awakened soft groove pressed invitingly on his chest. He looked up knowingly and pulled her hips forward, caressing her with his tongue.

“I think I knocked your phone on the floor.” She gasped as the first delicious tremors of pleasure began to tremble through her.

A while later as Freddie dressed she slipped the pirated card into a hotel envelope. When he had picked up his phone he had merely commented that the jolt had switched it off and re-entered his pin. His innocence and trust hurt her to the core. She had crossed a bridge and there was no way back.

“I’ve given the hotel number to the office. I’m half expecting a fax about some fabrics for next year’s models.” She lied as they sat at breakfast.

He nodded and smiled unconcernedly as she walked to the reception desk and handed over the envelope.

“A Monsieur Du Maurier will call for this envelope later today. Can you see he gets it?”

“Oui Madame.”

“Merci.”

“Je vous en prie.”

And to betray her lover, her man and her future - it was as easy as that.

With a trip to the bathroom she sent a text to Judy. “SIM card in envelope at reception - Hotel Florentine, Lyon. Ask Raymond to collect.”

As the Mercedes sped south on the autoroute, she relaxed into a state of shame. At least by being professional she knew what she was. By the time they reached their destination, Interpol would know everyone that Freddie knew. She watched his handsome tanned face. Over and over she asked herself how she could ever lie to him or hurt him. And the answer came. It was the same answer she gave to herself when they had met in London and she had opened their affair with a lie. She was a cop.

They cruised into Antibes in the mid afternoon. He drove with the window down, catching the scent of the sea and the slight trace of excitement on the southerly wind that swept in a hint of Africa.

They parked on the Millionaire’s Quay and walked hand in hand along the pontoon. The Nereus 74 languished alongside, pure white and deep blue, with an air of sharpened predatory menace. It had been designed by Mike Leyton and formed the corner stone of his billion dollar business.

They were greeted at the vessel by the uniformed resident crew, Bertrand and Lucienne, a husband and wife team. Anna, who had known them most of her life, hugged and kissed them, introducing Freddie - although clearly they knew exactly who he was.

“You are so brave alone on the streets of London,” said Lucienne. “Your father tells us about the dangers...”

“Oh - he believes what it says in the papers.” She interrupted hastily, realizing that they would know nothing of her deception.

“Are you guys really gonna let me take your baby out to sea tomorrow?” Asked Freddie, beaming at the prospect. “I’ve got my United States Coast Guard Masters Certificate.”

“Certainement - Anna knows these waters.” Replied Bertrand.

After a tour of the boat, Freddie positioned himself in the driving seat. He looked awesome in his T shirt and faded Dolce and Gabbana jeans. His strong neck and shoulders stretched the cotton fabric around the rounded curves of his muscles. His large strong hands touched the controls. It was obvious that he knew his way around power craft. She left him chatting with Bertrand excitedly about all the boy’s toys on the bridge and went below decks with Lucienne.

“Anna - I have known you so many years - I couldn’t help but notice that you were hand in hand on the pontoon...”

As the older woman spoke, her eyes caught the glint of the Cartier diamond on Anna’s finger.

“
Alors - Mon Dieu - you are engaged!
I am so happy - he is so wonderful, so everything.” She exclaimed.

Anna smiled weakly. “Lucienne - if only things were that simple. Yes, we’re engaged - I love him - he wants me but...”

She stopped as tears forced their way past her strength and resolve. Being with someone warm who knew her suddenly released all the tension of the past few days. “It’s all a sham. It can never be. It could all have been so different.”

“It can’t be so bad - if there is love then there is love. I can see it in his face.”

Anna sank down into the sumptuous white leather sofa, sobbing with her face buried in her hands.

“It is a long story - I didn’t tell him I was a cop.”

Lucienne let out a breath “So what - you are you and that’s it…we could tell him now and I know he wouldn’t care.”

“Anna - where are you? You are not doing much of a sales job.” Called Freddie from above.

“I’m just preparing for your inspection Captain.” She replied, dredging up pretense - yet another deception. How sick she was of the whole slithering pile of lies.

She dried her eyes and took a deep breath before climbing back to the top deck. The afternoon sun was warm on her skin as her eyes adjusted to the light catching on the water. Around the harbor, billions of dollars worth of motor cruisers and yachts gleamed idly on their moorings. The sea was calm and varied from aquamarine through to turquoise beneath a clear blue sky above an horizon dotted with salt-swept cypress. These few days should have been the happiest of her life, but from one small lie her dream had transformed into a hideous nightmare.

Freddie was like an excited kid, pointing out the satellite navigation system and the radar sweep on a screen.

“I can’t wait to push these babies forward.” He declared playfully, placing one hand on the throttles and the other on Anna’s butt.

She squealed, secretly glad that his mind was distracted from her tearful countenance.

His mobile started to ring. He sighed and pulled it from his jeans.

“Uh - yeah- sure Scappaticci - yeah, I know about it - Juan-Les-Pins OK - about an hour I guess.”

He hung up and looked at her with a roll of his eyes.” A bit of business honey. Hotel Juana - d’ya know it?”

“Gorgeous Art Deco - you’ll love it.” She replied, her heart sinking. So it was real. He was about to meet a Mafia front man who doubled as Brennan’s manager. Should she tell him to watch out for Tondelli? Should she tell him now and tell him exactly how she knew?