C'est la Vie (Raja Williams Series) (25 page)

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Authors: Jack Thompson

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BOOK: C'est la Vie (Raja Williams Series)
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“But what about the bank account in Luxembourg?”


Now that my divorce decree is finally official, I can tell you. The bank account you found is an investment for our future. Rene, my best friend from childhood, is a banker in Luxembourg who has been helping me. When my mother died, he was the executor under probate for her estate, which, albeit modest, did provide enough seed investment. I added what little I could, and Rene did the rest. He is quite skilled with money, as I’m sure you noticed.”

“So, you have been waiting for the divorce, not a final payoff,” said Vinny. “At the rate the account grew, I was sure you were taking bribes or drug money.”

“No, but thanks to my friend Rene, I have enough money set aside for the day I can retire with Yvette to a quiet village somewhere far from Paris.”

“But who is Margot Cheroux, the name that was on the bank account?” asked Vinny. “I could not connect it to you.”

“Margot Cheroux is Rene’s mother, and he is a bank signatory on the account. Of course, I had to hide all my mother’s money from my wife’s greedy lawyers, so everything was deposited into that account which could not easily be traced to me. I am happy to pay for anything Lucien needs, but I am not willing to contribute any further to my wife’s irresponsible dalliances. Let her earn her own way, or find a legitimate husband to support her, if she can.”

Vinny could see that Gilliard had been hurt, and changed the subject. “Do you know where in France you want to go?”

Gilliard and Yvette looked at each other.

“As a matter of fact, Pierre and I have talked quite a bit the last few days,” said Yvette. “A lot has happened.”

“Like the destruction of the cabaret,” said Gilliard. “We agreed to take that as the definitive end of Yvette’s recent career.”

“Yes, and since all that has happened, Pierre has revisited retiring.”

“What’s this?” asked Raja.

“Well, with my divorce fully settled, a great deal of pressure is gone. More than I realized. And I think my biggest urgency for wanting to leave was to get Yvette far away from the cabaret. Now perhaps we will stay in Paris a bit longer. My interest in bringing criminals to justice has also been revitalized, in no small part thanks to you, Raja.”

“Me, what did I do?”

“It’s not so much what you did, which as you know, I found annoying on occasion. It’s what you didn’t do. You didn’t give up. As much as I hate to admit it, you reminded me that one’s mission can never fail if one never quits. I believe I still have a mission here in Paris.”

“Glad to be of help,” said Raja. “Pierre, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

“You know, I have seen the movie,” said Pierre.

“All the better to appreciate the sentiment.”

“Good for you, Pierre,” said Vinny. “Perhaps Raja and I will see you again on a case in the future.” The immediate frown on Gilliard’s face made everyone laugh.

“Not too soon,
s’il vous plaît
,” said Gilliard.

The group ate a delicious dinner and chatted idly. Finally, when things had wound down, Gilliard waved to the waiter who brought a bottle to their table.

“I brought a little something of my own. It’s a calvados made in the village where I was born. An old family recipe.” He had the waiter pour everyone a glass. “Watch out,” said Gilliard. “If you are not used to it, you better sip it. It’s hot and a little rough, the way I like my drink and my women.” He winked at Vinny.

“Now I have met your mysterious associate,” said Gilliard, picking up his glass. “To Vinny. Brilliant, brave and beautiful.” He looked at Raja. “You are a lucky man.”

“Not me,” said Raja. “Vinny is a wild spirit that I doubt any man could tame. I don’t think any man should. Some things need to be free.”

“Perhaps, but we have a saying in France.
L’amour est une force majeure de nature.
Love is a force of nature.”

“Vinny is quite a force majeure all by herself,” said Raja.

“Perhaps, my friend, however,
Quand on veut, on peut.
When one wants, one can
.

 

“You know, Pierre, we have quite a few sayings in American English, as well,” said Raja. “Love conquers all. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Don’t eat the yellow snow.”

“And where do you think the best ones come from?” said Gilliard. “France, of course.”

Everyone laughed at that exchange, and they all drank and had a great time.

Chapter Thirty-eight: Final Fallout

Two of Vinny’s least favorite people from the club were the two young men she called the Czechoslovakian brothers, Luc and Marcelo. They were both pigs who took advantage of the girls and hid in the protective shadow that Bruno provided. Nonetheless, Luc and Marcelo turned out to have redeeming value after all. The two of them had accumulated a tome of information on a number of leading citizens who, besides frequenting the club’s third floor, had been involved in everything from receiving bribes to providing police protection for criminals. Luc, in particular, was more than willing to provide the details for a reduced prison sentence and the chance to see daylight while he still had some of his precious golden curls left.

Included in the arrests was an inspector-general of the Gendarmes who had been responsible for, among other things, the terrorist red alert on Raja that had almost gotten him killed. Captain Milan had insisted on making that arrest herself. In the end, another five low-level policemen on the Paris police force who had provided information to Bruno were arrested. The worst of the corrupt policemen, including Baston and Revel, were now dead.

The wide net that Didier had cast during his investigation caught several low-level local Paris politicians who had been paid to look the other way when crimes were committed. And when the gendarmes finally arrived at the home of Jacques Normandeau, the worst of all the corrupt politicians got what he deserved. As a deputy for the Minister of the Interior who held sway over both the National police and Gendarmerie, Normandeau had taken over five million Swiss francs in bribes for helping certain criminals circumvent the immigration regulations, all deposited to a private numbered Swiss account. As if that wasn’t enough, Normandeau had greedily profited directly from the human trafficking ring and heroin trade. Needless to say, Jacques Normandeau would be spending a long time in the French national prison.

While these and other shake-ups were happening, Raja and Vinny were winding down their activities. There was something to be said for karma. Despite suffering injuries of both a physical and psychic nature, Raja and Vinny were feeling relatively good. Vinny spent time with Yvette helping the girls from the cabaret find new work, and Raja burned a lot of gas driving his Porsche through the country outside Paris taking in the atmosphere.

Finally, Raja made special arrangements for what had become a tradition. He and Vinny strolled along the Quai des Tuileries, not far from where he had followed Gilliard to his clandestine meeting with Didier Perrin. Whenever his investigation was completed, Raja liked to do what he called an aesthetic cleanse. He would find an appealing art experience that would be intense enough to allow him to let go of whatever unpleasant things he had experienced during the case, rather than having them stuck to him forever. Tonight would be a private after-hours tour of the
Musée de l’Orangerie, a museum known as the Sistine Chapel of Impressionism. The museum itself was actually built around and featured the six-foot-high collection of Monet’s
Waterlillies
that filled two galleries, and included an array of works by other impressionist masters and French artists like Renoir, Picasso and Matisse.
Although Vinny didn’t often appreciate Raja’s taste in art, she had consented to come along tonight. The two had been forced to work separately for so much of the case in Paris that Vinny needed the chance to renew the bond that made them such a dynamic duo. That connection had helped solve cases and saved both their lives more than once.

The two of them walked together through the museum silently, Raja taking the lead. Sometimes he would stop and look at a painting for a long time and Vinny began to duplicate and understand what Raja saw in the artwork, and the power it had to elevate the soul. After hours in the museum, they were finally exhausted but ecstatic, what Raja called aesthetically cleansed. They thanked the curator’s assistant who had opened the museum for them at the insistence of someone high in the French government.

Epilogue

After Raja and Vinny arrived at the Le Bourget Airport, they unloaded their bags from the limousine. As they watched the car drive away, Vinny said, “Hey Raj, I wanted to ask why we took a limousine to the airport. I’m certainly not complaining, but why not bring Napoleon? This is where you store him.”

Raja smiled. “I left Napoleon with a friend.”

Earlier that morning, when Remy Montagne had arrived at the police station, and sat down at his desk he found a small envelope with an embossed falcon on it. It was addressed only,
Remy
. He opened it and pulled out a note. Across the top it read,
Follow these instructions,
which he did. He went to the police parking level two. Standing in the middle he walked exactly one hundred steps and stopped. He checked the note again, which read,
What do you see?
He looked around. There stood the orange Porsche. There was a second note tucked under the wiper blade. The note had only one word,
Well?
Remy tried the doors but they were locked. Likewise the trunk. He walked around the car and then looked at the note again. He smiled. A check of the wheel wells revealed the keys hidden above the right rear wheel. Remy opened the door and climbed into the driver’s seat. There was a letter on the passenger’s seat. It was handwritten.

 

Dear Remy,

It was a pleasure working with you on our smuggling case. I’m sure we saved many lives. You are an excellent detective who will be running the 36 someday, of that I have no doubt. On a more personal note, Napoleon mentioned how much he enjoyed your driving, so I thought you two would be a perfect match. The papers are in the glove box. He is all yours.

Take care and stay in touch.

Your friend always,

Raja

 

“I hope it was a good friend,” said Vinny.

“No doubt about it, Vinny. A good friend, indeed.”

Vinny and Raja walked to the plane. Mickey stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting to greet them.

“It’s good to see you two again.”

“Good to be seen,” said Raja.

“Ditto,” said Vinny.

“I’ve been w
atching the satellite feed on the plane,” said Mickey. “It’s been all over the news. Here and in the states. You two must have been busy.”

“You have no idea.”

Mickey looked at Raja’s stitches and the bruise on Vinny’s jaw. “It looks like you both took some heavy hits.”

“You think?” said Vinny, sounding uncharacteristically snide.

“You’ll have to excuse Vinny,” said Raja. “She dove three stories onto a hardwood stage floor. Then the whole cabaret building blew up. I don’t think she is back to her good-natured self quite yet.”

“All I can say is you guys sure know how to party.”

The three boarded the Hawker 1000 jet, and while Mickey prepared for takeoff, Raja sat back in his seat and sighed. It was the first time he had fully relaxed since they had touched down in Paris. He was tired, and the case had taken its toll. He thought about Corinne.

After the plane had taken off and leveled at cruising altitude, Vinny sat down across from him. “Penny for your thoughts,” said Vinny.

Raja didn’t answer for a long time. Then he said, “You know Vinny, there is so much in this world that needs fixing. Sometimes I wonder if what I do will ever make a difference. A real difference.”

“You certainly made a difference with those girls on Assad’s ship.”

“True.”

“And with Professor and Mrs. Browning.”

“I suppose. But I couldn’t help Corinne.”

“You can’t measure your deeds by whether everything is fixed. Sometimes there is a lot that needs fixing. And that might require a lot more good deeds. Did your deed help someone? That is the only measure, dude.”

Raja looked at Vinny. Sometimes she surprised him with a wisdom that transcended her years. “You make an excellent point. Which reminds me, Vinny, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. When you were up on the third floor of the cabaret and jumped off that balcony, by all rights you should have died.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“So, why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I panicked.” Vinny sipped her drink and pretended to be interested in something she saw out the window on the horizon.

Raja looked at her and smiled. He knew better. She had done it to save him.

~~~

 

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Following is the prologue of Book Three in the Raja Williams Series.

Swimming Upstream
 

Prologue: Lost in the Woods
 

Laura Bachman was an excellent skier. She had been skiing since the time she could walk, or so the story goes. In fact, her earliest life memory was her father catching her after she slid down the small embankment near her childhood home on the outskirts of Seattle, Washington. At the time, she was wearing her first tiny pair of skis. She had heard her father tell the story at dinners and parties more times than she could count. To hear him tell it, she was a born natural, ready for competition right from the start. As Laura recalled, she barely managed to stay upright for all of four feet. Now, on a normal day she commanded the skis effortlessly like they were an extension of her body. Today, however, the skis were heavy and awkward.

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