‘That’s right,’ David was saying. ‘Aunt Freda’s brother, Albert, was my father. He died when I was twelve. I only knew Aunt Freda for a little while, when she came over for the funeral, but she made a big impression on me.’
Just wants to reminisce a bit, Ross thought, still feeling cold with shock. Better indulge him, can’t do any harm. ‘She made a big impression on everyone she met,’ he said. ‘She was a lovely lady.’
David carried on, ‘I remember she stayed in New York for a month and took me everywhere. We went to the movies, the zoo…. even a baseball game. I guess she was trying to help me get over Dad. She would spend hours telling me stories about her home in Switzerland. I’m hoping to make it up there next week to take a look around. This is the first time I’ve been in Europe.’
‘It’s worth a visit. Lake Lucerne is a very beautiful place.’ He’s just a tourist, Ross told himself. Nothing to worry about. He doesn’t suspect anything. Better make sure though. ‘Are you over here for business or pleasure?’, he asked.
‘Business.’
‘Bad luck,’ Ross said sympathetically. ‘What’s your line?’
‘I’m with the FBI,’ David replied.
For the second time in five minutes, Ross was grateful for his cast-iron self-control. His insides felt like they’d turned to water, but without flinching, he managed to say, ‘Really? How interesting… and what have you found to investigate here in Monte?’
‘I’m not on an investigation, I’m part of a liaison team. We’re over here working with the French police to figure more efficient ways to detect international money laundering. We’re just about wrapped up now.’
‘So you’re a kind of financial policeman?’ Ross asked, relief flooding through him.
‘That’s right. I trained as an accountant, but after I qualified and got a job, I found it was pretty boring, so when the FBI started looking for people with financial skills to train as special agents, I applied.’
‘How interesting,’ Ross said, starting to dislike the little man intensely for the scare he’d thrown him.
David continued, ‘They put us through the same basic training as the regular agents, then after that we were sent on extra courses to learn how to spot financial irregularities.’
‘Confidentially,’ Ross said, deciding to pull the pompous little man’s leg, ‘there’re a few people on this boat whose finances wouldn’t bear close scrutiny, if you know what I mean… I say, You’re not under cover are you? Not after someone here, some master criminal?’
David took a slow sip from his drink, then looked up coolly and said, ’As a matter of fact, I came here tonight looking for you.’
Ross actually flinched this time. ‘Looking for me?’ he asked incredulously.
‘I spotted your name on the guest list in one of those society papers the other day, and managed to get myself invited as a guest of the American Ambassador. I was going to look you up while I was in Europe anyhow, you being my uncle and all, and this seemed as good a way as any to meet you.’
Ross’s shock turned to anger. I don’t need this, he thought. The last thing I want tonight is to be stuck with this little twerp playing Happy Families. He decided to break away. ‘Well it has been nice meeting you,’ he said, ‘but you must excuse me.’
‘Sure,’ David replied pleasantly, ‘I’m glad I was finally able to meet you.’
They shook hands, and Ross had just turned to walk away when David called, ‘Oh, Sir, there was just one question I had.’
Ross closed his eyes briefly and sighed, then turned back smiling and asked, ‘Really? What’s is it?’
David looked him straight in the eye and asked, ‘Where was Aunt Freda buried?’
Ross hadn’t seen that one coming and it caught him by surprise, but he recovered in an instant and replied truthfully, ‘In my family vault at the village church, in Minster at Stone, north of Hertford. Why do you ask?’
‘Because I want to go visit her grave and pay my respects,’ David replied. ‘Thanks for the information. Be seeing you.’ With that he turned and walked away.
Ross stared after the little man as he disappeared into the crowd. He knows, he thought, he knows! How the hell did he find out? It was over twenty years ago for God sake! I haven’t even thought about it myself for years… it’s ancient history!
He gulped his drink down and grabbed another as a waiter passed. He needed time to think. Going down one deck, he managed to get away from the noise of the party and stood at the railing, looking over the calm water towards the shimmering lights of Monaco. He could see cars high up on the Moyenne Corniche, the cliff road that followed the curves of the mountainside above the town where the Alps finally come down to meet the sea. He could see pinpoints of light standing out like jewels all over the hillside. Sweeping left and right into the distance were some of the most exclusive properties in Europe. He intended to own one of those properties before very long… and a yacht like Ricky’s… and a Learjet.
Then his insides churned with anger. He was angry with Alice for never letting him have what he wanted, angry with Freda and that pipsqueak nephew of hers, but most of all, angry with himself. You’re being a bloody fool, he told himself. You’ve had a rough day, your nerves are in tatters. There’s no way on earth Wiseman can suspect you over Freda’s death. It’s just his nasty little policeman’s demeanor.
Ross had had past experience with the police, and he didn’t like them. They could make the most innocent question sound like an accusation, and the most innocent man feel like a criminal.
Finishing his drink, he steadied himself against the railing, forcing his anger down. You’ve got nothing to fear from Wiseman, he told himself, nothing at all. He’s just another blundering American, he can’t touch you.
Fighting to calm himself, he looked at his watch: midnight. Another seven and a half hours to go, he thought, before Alex does the business. Then just a few weeks more, and I hit the jackpot.
Chapter 3
At precisely seven-thirty the following morning, Alex Crawford, wearing wig, sunglasses and a walking outfit identical to the one they’d dressed Alice in the day before, strolled downstairs into the hotel lobby and handed the key to the receptionist with a smile.
‘Thank you, Madame Webley,’ the receptionist said pleasantly. ‘I hope your throat is feeling better this morning.’
Alex replied with a smile and a little so-so wave of the hand.
Sauntering leisurely through the town, looking in shop windows, trying to be noticed by as many people as possible, Alex arrived at the Montenvers mountain railway station on the edge of town just in time to board the eight o’clock service. The bright red, two carriage, rack-and-pinion train slowly zigzagged its way up the steep mountainside, through tunnels and over precarious bridges, to the Mer de Glace terminus at over six thousand feet. The huge glacier, whose name means literally Sea of Ice, was a popular tourist attraction and useful setting-off point for high altitude walkers and climbers. Despite the early hour, the carriages were packed with tourists and a few climbers, anxious to make the most of the pure, early morning light and the clear mountain air.
When the train finally ground to a halt at the terminus, the crowd surged out onto the terrace overlooking the glacier, from which three paths led in different directions. The original plan had been to set off up the path towards a viewpoint known as Le Signal, but because of the problems Ross had had with Alice the night before, the new instructions were to follow the path leading in the opposite direction, down towards the glacier.