Riviera Gold by King Laurie R

Author:King, Laurie R. [King, Laurie R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Historical, Adventure, Adult
ISBN: 9780525620839
Amazon: 0525620834
Goodreads: 52062913
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2020-06-09T07:00:00+00:00

Holmes and I sat beside the ravaged tea-tray with our heels propped on the low table, saucers balanced on our stomachs, faces comfortably shaded from the lowering sun. The sandwich plate held only the less-identifiable creations. The biscuits were gone.

“Holmes, I take it that Inspector Jourdain was helpful?”

“Not more than he could help. The Inspector does not appear to welcome the assistance of amateurs. Particularly on a Sunday.”

“Didn’t you tell him who you were?”

“I decided that he would be even less enthusiastic over the meddling of foreign experts.”

“That will make matters difficult.”

“To be fair, the man does show signs of competence. And once he’d asserted his clear and undisputed authority over the investigation, he agreed to meet with me tomorrow—in a park, lest one of his superiors takes note—to show me the police photographs. He does not appear to be dismissing the investigation merely because Niko Cassavetes was a foreigner with dubious connections.”

“What sorts of connections?”

“Jourdain would provide no details, but he did betray an attitude towards Madame Crovetti and her son Matteo that made me suspect it lay there.”

“Madame Crovetti is a criminal? What does she do, sell fake fashion out of her shop?”

“As I say, he gave no details.”

“And yet you’ve clearly filled in some of the gaps, from the way you came swanning in stinking of beer. A pub, right? Hence, working class rather than where the bureaucrats linger.”

He stretched out his legs, looking very satisfied with himself. “We were told that Niko Cassavetes arrived in Monaco three years ago following an accident aboard a boat. We knew his manners were good, his skills more those of a personal servant than a deck hand, and he was pleasing in appearance. So yes, I went into the Monaco equivalent of a pub, near enough to the harbour for convenience, yet far enough away to be no attraction to the tourist.

“I presented myself as the chief steward on a large steam yacht due to tour the Mediterranean in the winter, scouting out local assistance. In particular, I required a man accustomed to sailing, with good manners, who spoke several languages and could drive a motorcar, and who was familiar with Riviera society. And, preferably, pleasant-looking.”

“Did any names other than his come up?”

“Surprisingly, yes. One of them was Matteo Crovetti, interestingly enough—although it was agreed that the final requirement disqualified him, unless my employer was willing to overlook the scars of smallpox on his face, and by and large it was agreed that he probably did not drive.”

“Well, most of the people here speak several languages, and Madame Crovetti would have taught her son manners. Is he a sailor?”

Ah—I’d hit the key to his self-satisfied air. He milked it by draining his cup and leaning forward to return it to the tray, then sat back again, fingers laced over his shirt-front.

“The Crovetti family are smugglers.”

“What? You mean her shop is a front?”

“Madame Crovetti, by all appearances, is nothing more than a respectable seller of expensive frocks. However, she married into a well-known family of Monégasque smugglers.

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