Waiting Game

THE WAITING GAME By Jerry Countess

CHAPTER 1 – THE “PITCH” “This job is perfect for you,” DeVigny said. “I own a bank. I can give you the best credentials in the world. You’ll have an unlimited expense account. The lady is young, attractive, and she needs the money desperately. Best of all, you’ll be doing something to help her…and her mother, too.” Alex Beaumont looked from the banker to Paul Ducasse, DeVigny’s nephew, then back to DeVigny. “When Paul was shot and I carried him out of the jungle three months ago, I told Paul that was my last battle. I didn’t want to be a mercenary anymore. I never thought I’d become a gigolo.” “Alex, please don’t take this so lightly. What we’re asking you to do is very important. You may be saving the lives of these two ladies.” “I like fighting on the right side, for a change. Okay, let’s see if I have this straight. We have the Duchess, Eugenie Midignard and her daughter Marguerite. They live in a very old chateau the family’s owned for hundreds of years. Everything in the chateau has been pawned. They’re destitute, and the mortgage on the chateau comes due in a year or so. It’s the classic movie scene…the girl is tied to the railroad tracks and the train is coming round the bend. Am I right so far?” “You are still taking this too casually, Alex. This is not a movie. This could be tragic.” Alex shook his head. “I do understand, Monsieur DeVigny. You wouldn’t have brought me to the Riviera from so far away, at such expense, for a whim or a game. It’s just my shortcut way of talking.” He held up his hand. “There is a but, however. The chateau and what land they have left have suddenly become more valuable. Real estate people want to buy the chateau and its lands to turn the whole area into a tech city. And the French government wants to put a road right past the chateau because it provides easy access from the north to the Riviera coast. Right so far?” DeVigny’s body relaxed. “I gave you only a short description, but you’ve grasped the situation very well.” “Thank you. There is one final complication. The Duchess doesn’t want to sell. She’s against merchandising her family’s history. She doesn’t trust the real estate people and she hates the government because of the road they want to put in. She won’t listen to anyone. So, if she doesn’t sell…in a year or so the chateau and the land will be forfeit. The road will materialize, the plateau will turn into a tech city anyway…and she’ll be out in the cold. Is that right so far?” “Thus far everything you’ve said is accurate.” “Okay…and finally…we have the daughter, Marguerite. She makes the only money they get by having an occasional liaison with one of the patrons of the big casino. A family friend, the casino owner, sets it up for her. Marguerite is not as stubborn as her mother. She might listen if someone she trusts could speak to her. She’s the only one who could persuade her mother to sell out now, while they might still get enough money to retire to some modest residence. And that’s where I come in. I’m the white knight who’s supposed to woo the girl, convince her to sell, and save the two women from a fate worse than death, right?” “You are right, but you cannot feel the history as we do. Alex, the Midignards and DeVignys have known each other for more than ten generations. I love Eugenie and Marguerite, and in a way I’m acting against my own best interests in bringing you in.” DeVigny’s face showed a touch of red. “It’s my bank that holds the mortgages on her property. But even though she likes me, she won’t listen to me. Someone has to do

something to help Marguerite overcome her mother’s stubbornness and save the Duchess from winding up a ward of the state. I don’t know what else to do.” “I understand that you’re trying to help these two ladies, Monsieur DeVigny. I’m glad you brought me in, and I’ll do what you ask. So where do we go from here?” DeVigny’s whole body relaxed. “I will give you the complete background, but there is some pressure of time on us, so let us begin. I will tell you everything you need to know.” Several hours later Alex left the bank with Paul. He grinned at his friend. “You have three days to turn a mud-sucking mercenary into Prince Charming. Where do we start?” “The Carlton, the best hotel on the Riviera…where you’re staying now.” Alex stopped Paul before they got into Paul’s car. “The story your uncle told me about the Duchess and her daughter...is that all there is to it?” “As far as I can tell, Alex. It’s difficult for my uncle to talk to the Duchess. The historical friendship between the two families means a great deal to him, but there are a lot of investors in the bank who are not interested in friendship, only in finance. He’s doing this on his own. He truly cares about the Duchess.” “I’m not questioning his motives, Paul.” “I know, Alex. All I can say is that it looks pretty straightforward to me, but I’ll check it out. “Thanks, Paul. I don’t want to do anything to hurt those two women, even though I don’t even know them yet. I’ll do everything I can to help. But now it’s up to you. I hope you’re good at being a fairy godfather.” The two men grinned at each other. Moments later they left the little town of St. Agate and drove down the mountains to the Riviera coast to begin the makeover on Alex Beaumont.

CHAPTER 2 – THE SET-UP Four days later a softened, cleaned up Alex arrived at the Riviera casino. He paid the cab driver and strolled to the entrance. In his new, custom-made clothes, he Alex took a one hundred thousand-franc note from his pocket and handed it to the man in the tuxedo just inside the door. “My name is Alexander Beaumont,” he said. “I’d like to see Monsieur Gabriel. This is my card. I’m sure he’ll see me.” The man looked at the paper currency. “Please come in, Monsieur Beaumont. I’ll have someone take you to Monsieur Gabriel.” Alex walked in. The man at the door turned, looked into the Casino and raised his head. It was a barely perceptible gesture. Alex smiled. Moments later, a younger man, also in a tuxedo, joined them. “Charles, this is Monsieur Beaumont. Please take him to Monsieur Gabriel.” He handed Charles the one hundred thousand franc note. “Monsieur Beaumont’s card.” Charles, unperturbed, accepted the bill. “Please follow me, Monsieur.” Alex strolled behind Charles through the high-ceilinged main room of the casino. Large chandeliers hung above baccarat and gaming tables, lighting the play. In spite of the people clustered about the tables, the main room was quiet. The murmur of conversation amongst the guests filled the room with a pleasant, low-keyed background sound. Alex followed Charles past a large alcove where floor to ceiling windows were framed by thick drapes. Just beyond the alcove, a broad staircase curved upward to a balcony that spanned the casino. They went up the stairs to a massive door at the far end of the balcony. Charles knocked and held the door open for Alex. Alex scanned the room as he walked towards the man behind the desk. Like the desk, the room was large, bare and Spartan in its severity. Except for the chair in front of the desk, there was no other furniture in the room…no pictures on the walls, no knickknacks, no concession to the human need to surround oneself with familiar, personal items. The one exception was the bank of television monitors built into the wall opposite the desk. Charles placed the currency on Monsieur Gabriel’s desk. “Mr. Beaumont’s card, sir.” Monsieur Gabriel looked away from the television screens he had been monitoring. “Please sit down, Mr. Beaumont.” Gabriel was a small man, engulfed by the leather armchair in which he sat. ‘Camouflage,’ Alex thought. ‘He wants people to underestimate him.’ A sense of quiet power flowed from the man behind the desk in spite of the almost ludicrous contrast between the size of the man and the chair, Monsieur Gabriel shifted his glance, not looking at the bill on his desk. “Thank you, Charles.” Charles nodded and left the room. “Your card caught Gilbert’s attention…my man at the door,” Gabriel said. “Obviously that’s what it was meant to do. A little dramatic, but not really necessary. I would have seen you anyway.” Alex nodded at the intense black eyes surveying him. “I’m sure you would, but I’ve found it saves a little time.” “What can I do for you, Monsieur Beaumont?” “I’m staying at the Carlton. Just arrived. I’ve done a lot of traveling…mostly Africa, the Americas and the Far East. I retired, recently. Thought it was time I saw a bit of the rest of the world. I’ve neglected Europe. I heard so much about the Côte d’Azur that…well, here I am. This seemed a place to stop off, at least for awhile. You know, perhaps buy some

property, a house, something like that.” Alex smiled, a boyish, self-deprecating gesture. He was forty-three, but his unlined, attractive face made him look considerably younger. The reason he’d survived life in remote places of the world the last fifteen years was his dedication to keeping his body in peak physical condition. Now he moved with the easy grace of an athlete. Altogether he showed a deceptively young, but pleasing appearance. “We’re happy to welcome all our visitors,” Gabriel said. His eyes strayed to the television monitors while Alex was talking. “There’s a very large list of real estate people in the area. They could help you find a place to stay.” Alex’s mouth took a wry twist. “I’ve been here barely a day and have already found that out. They’re a little too eager. Not the kind of people I prefer to deal with.” Monsieur Gabriel looked at Alex more closely. “Why come to me?” Alex withdrew an envelope from a jacket pocket. “Perhaps you’d look at this.” He leaned across the desk and handed the envelope to Monsieur Gabriel. Gabriel looked at the document. “You have influential friends.” “And some decent credit references.” Alex took another envelope from his pocket and handed it to Monsieur Gabriel. The Casino owner looked at the note inside the envelope for a moment. “With a Letter of Credit like that you have my undivided attention.” He smiled. “I assume, Monsieur Beaumont, there’s something special you’d like me to do for you?” “I thought you might be able to give me a little better direction than any of those real estate sharks. But before I get into that…I want to open an account with you.” Alex took a wallet from inside his jacket pocket and extracted nine more one hundred thousand-franc notes from the wallet. He placed them on top of the note still lying on the desk. “This should do for a start.” “Is that wise, Monsieur…to carry so much cash? You could be killed for a lot less.” Alex shrugged. “No one knew I was carrying it.” Monsieur Gabriel picked up the phone and spoke briefly. “Gilbert will have a receipt for you when you leave. Now…what can I do for you?” “It’s not just that I’m looking for a place to stay. Lord knows that’s easy enough to find. Some of your best homes are even advertised on the Internet.” Alex shook his head. “I want to live here, become part of the community, get to know some of the more permanent residents. I’m looking for a…a…” Alex stopped for a moment. “A ‘guide’ is not exactly the right word,” Alex said. “I thought perhaps you might know someone….a woman, preferably…a respected member of the community, someone who might be willing to introduce me to the right people…you know, the older families, people of that sort.” Alex shook his head at Gabriel’s frown. “Perhaps there is someone from a good family, well known, who has fallen on hard times…someone respected by the community…who could provide introductions, save me from spending a lot of time meeting people on my own. I’m prepared to make a generous arrangement with a person like that, if one exists.” Monsieur Gabriel’s black eyes stared into the distance, unfocused. The fringe of dark hair that surrounded his bald head moved up and down as he nodded. “An unusual request, Monsieur, but as it happens, I do know someone who matches your description almost exactly…Marguerite Midignard, daughter of Duchess Midignard. They own a large chateau, inland, up on the plateau. Past extravagances have eaten up the estate. They’re pressed for income.” Gabriel smiled at Alex. “And Marguerite is very attractive.” “That always helps. Tell me more.”

“I know the Midignard family well,” Gabriel said. “My family lived up there, just below the mountains. Her father and I were friends. Marguerite was born here, knows the area intimately. The family is highly regarded. They’ve been here for hundreds of years, even before the Revolution, one of our historic families. Up until World War II the Midignard Chateau was the center of social and cultural life for a large part of the region. Even now, if Marguerite calls someone, they take her call. On occasion she does me a favor and shows some of my wealthy clients the more interesting parts of the region. You’ll find her very…accommodating.” “Exactly the kind of person I’d hoped to find.” “Marguerite speaks English as well as you speak French, Monsieur Beaumont. She went to school in America for several years. You should have no problem.” “My instincts were right. I’m glad I came to see you. Now, how do I get to meet her?” “Will tomorrow night be satisfactory? Say about ten, here at the Casino?” “Perfect. It will give me time to look at the beach, walk about a bit. You know, the typical tourist thing.” He stood up. “You’ve been very kind. I’m indebted to you, Monsieur.” Gabriel walked around the desk to Alex. “I’m glad to be able to help. But you mustn’t let me stop you from enjoying the casino.” They smiled at each other cordially and walked towards the door together. Downstairs, Gilbert handed Alex an envelope as he left the Casino. Instead of taking a taxi, Alex crossed the Boulevard and walked up the Promenade alongside the beach. The meeting with Monsieur Gabriel had gone exactly the way DeVigny had said it would. DeVigny and Monsieur Gabriel had been boyhood friends. As a banker, DeVigny knew everyone in the area, and everything about them. He’d prepared Alex well. And Paul.... Alex smiled as he thought of his friend. This little “job,” as he called it, was the only way Paul could pay him back for having saved his life. For a few weeks Alex would now live like a millionaire. All he had to do was persuade the Duchess and her daughter to move out of a decaying building. Paul and his uncle had made it seem easy. So far they had been right. Now there was Marguerite Midignard to meet. “You’ll like her, Alex, I promise,” DeVigny had told him. “She’s a typical Provence beauty…dark hair, flashing eyes, a quick step. But don’t let her looks beguile you. She’s very sharp…and tough. Marguerite has learned to survive in extremely difficult times. Somehow Marguerite keeps that place together. It won’t be easy to fool her.” ‘Fool her? I didn’t think I was supposed to fool her,’ Alex thought. His meeting with Marguerite tomorrow evening should be interesting.

CHAPTER 3 – THE LADY AGREES Marguerite Midignard was working in the vegetable garden at the side of the chateau. She plunged her pointed hoe into every weed with angry stabs. ‘Damn you all. Lord, how I hate this job!’ She used the back of the hoe to fill in the hole left by the plucked weed and pressed the dirt down with her foot. A low wall of fieldstone backed the garden. Beyond the wall was a large field of scraggly grass, and surrounding that, a dense border of trees. The Chateau once had looked out upon a pleasant, pastoral landscape. Now, with the trees untrimmed and the grass a patchwork of different mowing heights, the land seemed to be returning to its natural, unmanaged state, far less pleasing to the eye. An unkempt lawn separated the vegetable garden from the side of the house. In the center of the lawn a large tree provided shade for a garden table and chairs. On the table a portable phone began to beep. Marguerite dropped her hoe and walked to the table. ‘Why couldn’t you have rung sooner?’ she muttered. She put the phone to her ear. “Whoever you are, I’m glad you called. This is Marguerite.” “It’s good to hear your voice again, Marguerite. Comment ca va?” “Monsieur Gabriel. How does it go?” Her wide mouth turned up in a grin. “As always. I’m weeding the garden. It’s hell on the back, and even with gloves on it’s hell on the hands. A fine occupation for the daughter of the old nobility.” She laughed, then her eyes widened. “You have something for me? God knows we need it. We’re down to eating mostly veggies. We love them, but we do need a change.” “Marguerite, you’re wasting your precious young life on an impossible chore. You’re like Sisyphus, only worse. For every step you push the stone up the hill, it rolls back down two steps. In the end you’re further behind than where you started. That Chateau will kill you. Why don’t you get out?” Her face changed. She looked at the phone with stony eyes, the skin over her jaw pulled tight. The anger lasted only seconds. Her face softened. “Dear Monsieur Gabriel. You’re a good friend. I know you mean well. You’ve helped us more than anyone has. But there is no ‘out.’ I have to play this to the end, until the Chateau gets taken over by the bank, until the Duchess is evicted bodily, until we go down together. Perhaps it seems stupid to you, and perhaps it is. But you know Mama¢. She has to carry the flag to the end. That’s the only way she’ll go. And I’m her daughter. Like it or not, I go with her.” Her face changed again, becoming more animated, gray eyes alight. “But you’re calling. That means you have another pigeon for me, another reprieve. Who is it this time…a banker, a software manufacturer from Sophia-Antipolis, a Swedish diplomat looking for…”She giggled. “For whatever Swedish diplomats look for. Who is it? Where? When?” “Marguerite, you take too lightly what most of your friends would frown upon if they knew.” “Oh, they know, Monsieur Gabriel, they know.” Her smile held no humor. “Come, old friend, Victorian morals aren’t exactly what are observed in the casino, either. I’m not being sarcastic. I know you really are concerned about me. You shouldn’t be. My innocence was lost a long time ago, and these brief little affairs mean nothing. They’re purely financial. The next day they’re gone from my mind. It’s just something one does to survive. And as you know better than anyone else, it’s the one source of income we’ve had these last two years, the only thing that’s kept us going.” “Sometimes I wish you’d never persuaded me to arrange these little liaisons for you, Marguerite.”

“For a Frenchman you have a very strange attitude, mon ami. Come, tell me. Is this someone special? He must be, the way you’re hiding him from me.” “Hiding him? How can you say that when I’m calling you about him?” The sound of her laughter came through his speakerphone. “Ah, you’re teasing me. You mustn’t do that. You know my business doesn’t encourage a sense of humor.” “Well then…?” “All right, all right. He’s younger than most, apparently quite wealthy. His references are impeccable… and so is his bank account. Best of all, he says he wants to settle in the mountains, away from the coast. He’s looking for someone to introduce him to the older families. He wants a shortcut.” “A shortcut?” “He doesn’t want to have to make elaborate dinners and knock on doors to meet people. That kind of thing. He wants to buy a place but he doesn’t want to deal with the usual run of land agents, which speaks to his intelligence. He could be someone with whom you might be able to make a longer commitment than with most. I think he will be very generous.” “Couldn’t come at a better time. When? Tomorrow? Wonderful. I’ll be there.”

CHAPTER 4 – THE RIVIERA The next afternoon Alex came out of the Carlton Inter-Continental Hotel and started up La Croisette, the broad boulevard fronting the beach. It was a beautiful day and tourists already lined the balustrade across the avenue, watching the action on the sand. He took a quick look at the elegant shops and headed towards the water. The area on the beach reserved for the Carlton guests was crowded. The large beach umbrellas were planted in the sand so close to each many of them touched in the breeze. Closer to the water a colorful collection of smaller umbrellas, beach pads and towels, dotted the beach. Directly in front of the Carlton, a long pier jutted out into the water. A line of people lying on yellow beach pads covered the pier from end to end. Alex looked at the almost naked bodies on the pier, greased and oiled, grilling in the sun, and shook his head. He took off his canvas sneakers and began walking up the beach on the wet sand just at the water line. Young people were everywhere, playing ball, sunbathing, rushing in and out of the water. It was a happy, colorful scene. Four girls in their late teens were seated on towels close to the water’s edge about twenty yards in front of Alex. They watched him walking towards them. He had almost reached them when a pretty blonde stood up and smiled at Alex. “Hi. I haven’t seen you on the beach before,” she said. “I arrived last night.” “We’ve been here almost a week. We know the best places for everything. Why don’t you join us? We’ll show you the ropes.” “Thanks for the invitation,” Alex said, “but I’m on my way to meet someone.” “Too bad. Well, if she won’t do, come back to us.” She turned her head towards her three friends on the sand. They all smiled and waved at Alex. “There’s four of us. I’m sure you’ll find one of us who’ll do. In fact, we all do.” She struck a provocative pose. Alex smiled. “I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks again.” He continued up the beach. He began to notice the detritus floating in the water…vegetation, picnic discards, globs of some oily substance, remnants of plastic bags and wrappings. He’d lived in some raw environments the last two decades, but this seemed particularly distasteful, given the beauty of the area. Later he left the beach, walked to the Rue D’Antibes and looked at some of the elegant shops, stopped at a sidewalk café for a snack and then meandered through the streets. The area was bustling with tourists, the stores busy with customers. Every street was clogged with cars. Periodically traffic came to a standstill. The sound of honking car horns filled the air, underscored by the counterpoint of irate motorists shouting curses at each other. ‘Springtime in paradise,’ Alex thought. ‘At least that’s what the travel brochures say. Why did I think paradise would be quieter than this?’ He looked at his watch. Almost time to start back for the hotel. There would be Marguerite Midignard to meet this evening. Marguerite was the key to this little adventure. ‘I don’t know why, but I hope she’ll be a brunette,’ he thought, then smiled to himself. However she looked, there was the little job he had to do for DeVigny. and Paul, and that game was about to begin.

CHAPTER 5 – RULES OF THE GAME Leon, the parking attendant at the Riviera Royal Casino, was at his stand near the entrance to the casino when a tow truck pulled up just before the driveway that led to the service area at the back of the casino. The truck was towing a battered old Citroen. Marguerite Midignard, in evening dress and high heels, climbed down from the cab of the truck. Leon walked quickly to meet her. “Good evening, Mademoiselle. The old horse giving you trouble again?” Marguerite grimaced. “It will be the death of me. I was driving along, slowly, but getting here, when suddenly it coughed and just stopped. I was almost in town, but I couldn’t leave it on the road and it was too far to walk here in heels. Fortunately Monsieur Gamelin came along and stopped for me. He’d recognize my old wreck from ten kilometers away, he’s towed it so often. One day I’m going to take it down to the quay and push it off the end.” “Don’t be concerned, Mademoiselle. I’ll talk to Gamelin. We’ll make sure it’s parked in the back, out of the way.” “Thank you, Leon. I appreciate it.” She took a bill out of her purse and held it out to the attendant. He pushed it away. “No, no, Mademoiselle. Not from old friends. That’s for the tourists.” Marguerite smiled, put her hand on his arm for a moment and walked back to the driver of the tow truck. After giving him last minute instructions she walked quickly towards the entrance of the Casino. She spoke with Gilbert, at the door, and a few moments later walked slowly through the main room. Charles came to her side when Gilbert signaled him, and walked in front of her. He scanned the casino guests as he led her into the casino. “Mademoiselle.” Charles stopped. She looked in the direction his eyes indicated. Alex Beaumont was standing a little apart from the others at a Baccarat table, watching the play. Charles nodded. “Monsieur Beaumont.” “Thank you, Charles.” She stood there, watching Alex after Charles left. ‘Good body,’ she thought. A strange flutter of excitement raised her spirits. He was attractive, much younger and obviously much more physically fit than the sedentary clients Monsieur Gabriel usually found for her. These liaisons meant survival, but perhaps this time it wouldn’t be such a disagreeable chore. Conscious of her stare, Alex raised his head. He looked across the room and their eyes met. There was nothing obvious…just the hint of a smile…but it pleased her. She walked around the table to meet him. “I’m Marguerite Midignard. Monsieur Gabriel said I might find you here.” “Thank you for coming. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience?” She shook her head and looked at the table. “Do you play?” “Not often. I prefer other games…one on one…where the odds are a little better. But once in a while I do play.” He moved closer to the table and nodded to the banker who gave him a pad. Alex signed the pad and received a stack of ten thousand-franc chips. He divided the chips into two stacks and looked at Marguerite. “May I?” She closed her eyes for a second and lifted her shoulders. Alex smiled, moved the two stacks onto the table and nodded to the dealer. A card was drawn from the shoe. The dealer recited his litany of explanation. Another card was drawn. Alex won. “That will be all for the moment,” he said to the dealer. Put my share in my account

and….” “Mademoiselle Midignard has an account with us,” the dealer said. “Shall I credit her?” Alex turned to Marguerite. “Is that satisfactory?” She shrugged, still acting bored, and nodded. Alex took her by the elbow. “Why don’t we sit somewhere away from the tables, have a drink, talk a bit?” For a moment Marguerite let her guard down and smiled. They walked towards the alcove at the side of the room. In the alcove Alex held a chair for her, then sat opposite her across a small cocktail table. Through the tall windows they could see the garden and beyond that, the lights of the city in the distance. A waiter came to them. “White wine, please,” Marguerite said. “I’ll have the same.” The waiter left and Alex looked at her across the table. “And what kind of games do you play, Mademoiselle?” Marguerite, wary again, met his eyes. “I play the waiting game,” she said after a moment. “Ah, a sporting woman.” “Why do you say that?” Alex crossed his legs, clasped his hands in his lap and leaned back. “The waiting game is only for the most experienced players. And the bravest. It takes a great deal of skill…and very strong nerves. It’s the most difficult game in the world to play because there are no rules. It works on instinct and a sense of timing. The worst part is there’s only yourself to blame if you make an error of judgment.” “I’ve played it before. Successfully.” “Yes, I’m sure you have,” Alex smiled. “But that doesn’t mean it’s always the wisest course.” “I don’t understand the point you’re trying to make.” “Forgive me for being obtuse. Perhaps an example will help.” Alex clasped his hands around his knees. “I travel a great deal, all around the world. Sometimes I stay in one place for several months and sometimes I leave after a week or two. No reason. It could be just a whim, or I’m bored. Wherever I’m staying, though, I like to have a good car at my command, whenever I want it.” The waiter returned with their drinks, placed them on the table and left. Alex picked up his glass and held it up to Marguerite. She lifted her glass and they silently toasted each other. “That’s very interesting,” Marguerite said. “But I still don’t see the point.” “I’m coming to it, a little circuitously, perhaps. Bear with me. As I was saying…owning a car in a foreign country is a nuisance…the forms, the bureaucracy, the insurance…So in most countries I usually find someone congenial to pass the time with. I buy the car, register it in her name with the understanding that I’ll use the car as my own for as long as I’m saying there. Then, when I decide to leave, I just hand her the keys and walk away. No official details to worry about. No problems. I’m free.” “Rather an expensive way of doing things, isn’t it?” Marguerite said. “It works for me.” She tilted her head and looked at him, pursing her lips. “I’m afraid I still don’t get the point of your story.” “The point is…that’s precisely what I intend to do here. I saw a jazzy little car in a showroom window in town, a red, two-seater convertible. A Porsche something or other. I’m not sure of the model but it looks like it’s fun to drive. I thought I’d buy it to tool around in as long as I’m here. The trouble is…I don’t have anyone to give it to when I leave. At least not yet.” Marguerite picked up her drink, sipped and looked at him over the rim. “Monsieur Gabriel said you wanted some guidance on properties in the area, perhaps introductions to some of our local people.”

Alex looked at her for a moment, put down his drink and stood up. “We can talk about it in the morning. Right now, perhaps you’d care to join me at my hotel?” Marguerite didn’t move. “You’re rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?” “We could wait for our relationship to mature, if it ever should. But by that time the little red car could be long gone. Or, as the poet Omar Khayyam wrote, you could take the cash and let the credit go. That’s the problem with the waiting game. It’s all in the timing.” He held out his hand. Marguerite hesitated for a moment, then stood and took his hand. “You’re a cold hearted devil, aren’t you?” she said. “No more than you.” Marguerite’s face filled with anger and her body stiffened. The anger left as abruptly as it had come and she laughed. “Right you are. I’ve seen that little red car in the window a hundred times, and every time I go by I covet it for myself. I’m all yours, sport. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 6--THE GAME BEGINS Alex and Marguerite came through the revolving doors of the Carlton under the marble arch of the doorway. Upstairs Alex opened the large double doors to his suite. Marguerite entered, then stopped and looked around the room. “I’m glad you’re staying here,” Marguerite said. “I love this place. It’s sinfully decadent, but it’s so comfortable and graceful. Almost exactly the way it was the first time I saw it two decades ago.” She put her purse on an end table. “I’ll be just a moment. I want to freshen up.” They were in a corner suite on the uppermost floor of the hotel. All the drapes were open. On one side the room overlooked the ocean; from the other side Alex could see the lights of Cannes. He took off his tie and stood in front of the windows looking at the city. A few moments later Marguerite came back into the room. Alex turned. She was carrying her earrings in the palm of her hand. She put them on the table beside her purse. They stared at each other. Alex crossed the room to Marguerite and took her in his arms. The first kiss was tentative, exploratory, barely a touching of lips. Both had their eyes open. They kissed again. Slowly Alex felt excitement begin to build, in his body and in hers. His hands moved around her back. He pulled his head away and looked at her. “You have the body of an athlete.” “And I bend in all the right places,” Marguerite murmured. They kissed again, no longer tentatively. Marguerite put her arms around Alex’s shoulders. He kissed her on the side of her neck. Her arms began to move on his back, grasping him tighter. Alex lowered his head and kissed her above her breasts. Marguerite tilted her head all the way back and Alex heard the soft sound of air filling her lungs as she took a deep breath. He reached up and drew the right shoulder of her dress down over her arm and his lips moved down her breast. He could feel her whole body respond as she leaned into him. Alex stepped back. Their eyes met. He put one arm across her back, bent over and put his other arm behind her knees. In one smooth, easy motion he picked Marguerite up and carried her towards the bedroom. It was a familiar scene he’d played dozens of times before in other countries around the globe, but for some reason he couldn’t explain, he knew this would be different. His pulse quickened.

CHAPTER 7 – LOVERS’ QUARREL Alex stood in front of one of the windows, looking out at the beach. The morning light, filtered by the sheer white curtains, suffused the room with a luminous glow. He was looking at the beach, but his eyes saw nothing. Something had happened last night. In the midst of their love making, a sudden passion had overtaken him. It upset his equilibrium. Over the years his mercenary work had taken him to three continents, and he’d been with many women, but no woman had ever touched him like that before. Alex took pride in his ability to keep cool, to keep his emotions under control. To lose it, last night, without warning, baffled him. He heard the sound of movement from the bed and turned his head. Marguerite struggled to sit up in bed. She lifted her head, propped herself up on one elbow, and shielded her eyes from the light with her other hand. “Are you always such an early riser?” “Usually. I had a jog on the beach, a swim in the pool and I come back here to find a beautiful woman in my bed. What could be better?” He walked to the bathroom and came back with a large, white terry-cloth robe he dropped on her bed. “We have places to go and things to do, the first of which is to buy that little red car before someone else grabs it.” He smiled at the look on her face. “You almost forgot, didn’t’ you?” “Some chance.” she said, but they both knew that for a moment she really had forgotten. Alex picked up the phone. “This is Monsieur Beaumont. You can send that breakfast up now.” While he spoke on the phone Marguerite slid off the far side of the bed and put the robe on. She picked up her dress as she headed for the bathroom. “Shower,” she said. Alex put down the newspaper he’d been reading when Marguerite finally came out of the bathroom, brushing her hair. A waiter brought up a full breakfast service. Alex looked up at her. “I like the way you walk,” he said. “Smooth. Almost fluid. Exceptional.” A faint flush of color touched her cheeks. She lowered her head. “Your dress is beautiful too, but you’re not going to be running around all day in that, are you?” “I left a change of clothes in my bag in the car. It’s parked at the casino. We can pick it up after breakfast.” She sat at the table and Alex took the cover off the hot dishes. She began eating quickly. “For a skinny girl you’re putting away a lot of food, very fast.” Alex said. “I’m not skinny. It is a lot more than I usually eat, but it doesn’t matter. Calories just don’t stick to me.” “That’s what you say now. Wait until you’re forty.” She made a face, poured coffee, then leaned back and looked at him. “How did you guess I needed a new car?” “Not a guess, really. When I called Monsieur Gabriel last night to confirm our meeting, he mentioned you might be a little late, that your transportation was kind of old…and unreliable. And you were a little late. I figured the rest out for myself.” “Monsieur Gabriel was more right than he knew,” Marguerite said. “I arrived at the Casino in a tow truck.” She sipped her coffee, then looked down into the cup. “You’re being

very generous.” He waited until she lifted her eyes. “Last night wasn’t a first for me, and yet it was…more than I thought it would be. “ His shoulders lifted. “Different. I’m sure you felt that too.” Her yes met his. “It was. You know how to give, as well as get. Not many men do.” “I didn’t mean just that.” He hesitated. “There was, perhaps, just one thing missing,” Marguerite’s eyebrows rose. “A little heart, perhaps,” he said. “Technically perfect, but missing a spark.” She jerked upright in the chair. “What the hell did you expect? This wasn’t a honeymoon. Nobody ever complained before.” “Whoa. Relax.” Alex held up his hands. “Last night was memorable. I’m not complaining. I’m just a little surprised to find that I’m such an old fashioned romantic. I never knew that about myself before. That’s my problem, not yours.” Marguerite’s eyes dropped. “We’re not exactly Romeo and Juliet,” she said. “One is always a little cautious about letting one’s feeling run loose, the first time.” “I know. It was unfair of me to say that. I really didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” She put down her cup and stood up. “If you’re finished with the paper, let’s go. I want to get out of these clothes.” “Right. And we don’t want them to sell the car.” He watched her walk across the suite towards her purse and felt a strange sense of satisfaction. ‘She’s attractive, intelligent and she has a disciplined body.’ he thought. What he didn’t put into words was that he’d really meant what he’d said to her. He brushed that away. ‘So far so good’, he said to himself. ‘Better than good. Now how do I get that to work for us?’

Chapter 8 – Let Me Show You My Chateau Alex, Marguerite and a salesman for the Porsche dealership stood together on the street behind the showroom. They watched one of the dealer’s drivers back the red convertible through the sliding doors at the back of the building. He maneuvered the car into the street, parked it, handed the keys to the salesman and went back into the showroom. The salesman, all teeth and smiles, held a folder with a sheaf of documents inside it. He fidgeted constantly, his body moving to some internal rhythm of its own. “Well here you are,” he said, beaming at them. “Isn’t it a beauty? You’ll just adore it, I know.” He looked at them, waiting for some reaction. When they remained silent he became even more fidgety. “Oh dear, I can see you’re anxious to pop in and go rushing off, so I won’t delay you.” He handed the folder to Alex. “This is everything you need. All the documents. The car’s officially yours. I know you’re going to have such fun.” “Thank you,” Alex said. He and Marguerite did not add to the conversation. “Oh, of course. I’ll be running off, then. If you need anything…” When they nodded, silently, he waved at them and hurried back to the showroom. Alex handed the keys to Marguerite. “I was beginning to think he’d never leave.” “I still can’t believe it.” Marguerite stared at the keys. “I know you said you’d buy it, last night, but in my heart...” She shook her head. “You came with me anyway. Weren’t you afraid I’d take advantage of you and then just run off, leaving you holding the bag, so to speak?” She closed her hand around the keys. “It doesn’t work quite that way. If Monsieur Gabriel has me meet someone, I know he’s been checked out, thoroughly. But you didn’t run off. And I’m so thrilled. I really need this car. Thank you, Alex.” She leaned forward and kissed him. As she started to move away Alex took her hand and pulled her back to him. He put his arm around her waist and kissed her with feeling. She looked at him, eyes wide. Alex grinned. He was almost as surprised as she was. For a moment Marguerite stood there, uncertain how to react. The moment passed. She smiled back at him and slipped into the driver’s seat of the car. Alex got in beside her. “So…what have you planned for today?” he said. “If you don’t mind, Alex, the first thing I want to do is run over to the casino, pick up my bag and change clothes. While I’m there it will take me only a few minutes to arrange for my car to be towed in for repair. Then I want to take you to my place, Chateau Mont Gervais. It’s a good starting place. I really want you to see it…and meet Mama¢. Is that all right with you?” “Your place or mine, anytime.” Marguerite returned his smile, but the movement of her lips was mechanical. Her eyes were staring into the distance, as though she hadn’t heard him. He noted her abstract look. “What is it?” “I was thinking…” She turned in the car to face him. “I have an idea. It’s a little crazy, but…” “We all need a little crazy once in a while. Tell me.” She took a breath. “You and I are going to see a great deal of each other, this next week or two, anyway, if I’m to introduce you to people, show you different houses until you find a place…that kind of thing…” Alex, watching her, nodded. “Well…that means a great deal of running around for both of us. A lot of mileage. You’re

going to have to come up from the coast every day to pick me up at the Chateau, at least until my car is repaired. The mechanic, Gamelin, says it could be a week or more. Then, after they do get my car running, I’m going to have to go to the coast every day to get you. And bring you back to the hotel at night. But even when my car is working, it’s not terribly reliable.” She put her arm over the back of the seat and leaned towards him. “Why don’t you stay at our place for a while? It will save both of us a great deal of driving up and back between the Chateau and the coast every day. Now that we have this beautiful little car available we can go anyplace we want from there.” Alex didn’t answer immediately. Marguerite put her hand on his arm. “I’d really like it if you’d stay with us, Alex. It won’t be quite what you’re accustomed to, of course, but it makes so much sense for both of us.” “Are you sure your mother wouldn’t mind?” “Mama¢? She’d love it.” Marguerite laughed. “It’s been dog years since we’ve had company. She needs someone new to talk with. Besides, it’ll give us all a chance to get to know each other better.” “I’d like that. It is a Chateau, so I guess you have plenty of room, right?” Marguerite started the car, put it in gear and they zoomed away from the showroom. “Yes, it’s a real Chateau. Famous, really. At least in this area. It has a long and illustrious history.” Her smile held mixed emotions. “But it’s also very old, and practically falling apart. Now that you’ve agreed to stay with us I can tell you…the roof leaks, the heat doesn’t always work when it’s supposed to, and the plumbing has some secret schedule of its own. That’s why I want you to stay with us. It’s been ages since we had a man around the house.” “Hey, wait a minute…I’m not experienced at that kind of thing. I don’t know anything about household repairs. I might make things worse.” “It’s brawn we need, not brains,” she said, enjoying herself now. “There are things I have to lift, move from one place to another. You can help me.” “You’ve got a touch of the devil in you, Mademoiselle Midignard,” Alex said. “You worry me, Maggie.” “Maggie? That’s kind of personal, isn’t it?” “Personal? I should hope to kiss a pig it is. After all, if we’re going to go bouncing around in bed with each other, that’s personal enough.” His eyes widened. “Hey, we do have a relationship, don’t we? Last night wasn’t just a one-shot deal?” “If I have a bit of the devil in me, Alex Beaumont, you’ve more than your share of Machiavelli in you.” She turned back to look at the road for a moment, then burst into laughter. “I can’t stand that downcast look on your face. I guess we do have a relationship…for the time being. But that may change after you meet my mother. The Duchess is another cup of tea.” When they arrived at the Casino, Marguerite drove the car into the parking area and she and Alex went inside. “I’ll get my bag, change, and arrange for my car to be picked up and repaired. I shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.” “No problem. I have a few calls to make.” Alex found a phone in a private sitting room inside the Casino. He dialed. “Monsieur DeVigny, please.” There was a short wait. “Alex Beaumont here. We’ve had a bit of good luck. As of this afternoon I’m staying at the Chateau.” “Excellent, Alex, excellent,” DeVigny said. “We could never have hoped for anything like that so soon. And it couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. The situation grows more critical almost by the hour. I know it is a great deal to ask, but you must move quickly. I pray we’re not too late.” “Monsieur DeVigny, I met the lady only last night. When we first talked about this I told

you not to expect too much.” There was a sigh from DeVigny. “You’re right, of course. It is unfair of me to pass my fears along to you. I just don’t want to see any harm come to the Duchess or Marguerite. Do the best you can.” “I do understand your concern,” Alex said.” “Thank you, Alex. Paul’s idea that we bring you in was a flash of inspiration.” “Hold the applause until we see how this develops.” There wasn’t much left to say after that. He hung up and walked into the lobby to wait for Marguerite. The last potential obstacle was coming up…The Duchess Eugenie Midignard.

CHAPTER 9 – DUCHESS EUGENIE MIDIGNARD Alex watched Marguerite with a curious sense of satisfaction as they drove along the serpentine road that climbed up to the mountains. She maneuvered the little car with relish and skill, shifting gears smoothly, handling the car as though she’d been driving it for years. “Oh Alex, I do love this car,” she said, her eyes shining. “Yeah, well let’s keep it in one piece.” She laughed. Alex could sense her joy at driving a responsive car with no ailments. At the top of the long ascent they crossed a bridge over a deep gorge and drove into St. Agate. The little town clung to the edge of the gorge. The rear walls of the houses on the main street that bisected the town were almost an upward extension of the cliffs themselves. Once through St. Agate, they emerged on the road that traversed the plateau. To Alex it felt as though they’d come through the apex of a large V. The land opened up into broad plains on both sides of the road. The plateau, completely encircled by steep cliffs, had been largely impregnable to the invasions that savaged the coastal cities for centuries. Chateau Mont Gervais, Marguerite’s home, sat in the center of the plateau, about a dozen kilometers from St. Agate. After a drive through spectacular pastoral countryside, Marguerite turned off the main road and drove down a long, narrow lane lined with ancient Lombardy poplars. They emerged from the shade of the trees onto a large clearing, in the center of which stood Chateau Mont Gervais. Alex looked it over as Marguerite drove the car around the cobblestone circle and stopped at the terrace in front of the Chateau. At first glance it was impressive. The four story building was faced with weathered stone. Above it, a gray slate roof rose sharply upwards towards a long, flat, ridge. At the end of the building, to the right, a six sided tower topped by a cone shaped roof stood out against the sky. The Chateau rose behind a wide terrace near the front of the building. A huge wooden door set inside a stone arch rose fifteen feet above the terrace. It wasn’t until he got out of the car and stepped onto the terrace that Alex began to appreciate the malaise that infected the Chateau. The bricks on the terrace no longer lay flat. Some were pushed up, many of them broken, their raised portions a dangerous impediment to walking. When Alex turned towards Marguerite he saw that what had seemed to be a fountain in the center of the courtyard was a pile of stone and crumbled brickwork, collapsed upon itself. The lawn area bordering the courtyard had been cut haphazardly, obviously at different times. The large clearing between the chateau and the distant trees looked unkempt and scraggly. The whole scene was a picture of neglect and decay. Alex turned to see Marguerite watching him. “It’s worse inside,” she said. “But we survive.” She spoke in a cheerful, carefree voice, but to Alex the sound didn’t ring true. “And now we get to meet the guardian spirit of this ancient relic, protector of the faith, defender of the poor…the Duchess Eugenie de Midignard. Her smile faded and she became serious. “I’m afraid Mama¢’s batteries are running down, poor thing.” She looked up at Alex and suddenly smiled again. “But don’t let that put you off guard. She’s a tough old bird and she’ll nip off your nose in a flash if she doesn’t like what you say…or the way you say it.” They went through the doorway into a bare, cavernous hall. When he looked up, Alex saw huge wooden supporting beams that spanned the room twenty feet above their heads. Opposite them, at intervals in the wall, were four sets of multi-paned windows. There was

also a set of windows to the right and left of the door. The windows put enough light into the hall so that he could see the outlines of where large pictures once had hung on the walls. Marguerite guided Alex down the hall to the right. There were two doors in the middle of the wall at the end of the hall. To their right, against the outside wall, a stone stairwell curved up out of sight. She turned to see Alex looking at the stairway. “That’s the tower. It takes you upstairs to the bedrooms. There’s another one on the opposite side.” She jerked her head to the left. “Are you ready? Here we go. Chin up.” Marguerite opened the door on the right. Opposite them, mullioned windows ran the width of the large sitting room. The windows surrounded French doors, through which a narrow terrace was visible. White lace curtains covered the windows. The sunlight that came through the windows and doors made the room glow with natural light. To their right a large fireplace, surmounted by a wide stone mantle, was set in the middle of the wall. Duchess Eugenie Midignard sat in an armchair set between the windows and the fireplace. The sunlight came over her shoulder. Eugenie was a smallish woman, slender, but not frail. Her skin was fair, hair gray. Eugenie’s eyes were closed and her mouth was partially open. A newspaper lay in her lap. Alex followed Marguerite into the room. Marguerite closed the door, looked at her mother and coughed loudly. Duchess Eugenie’s eyes snapped open. “I was not napping. Just resting my eyes for a moment.” The words came out with a military bark. She looked at Alex and frowned. “And what do we have here?” Marguerite took Alex’s hand and led him to the Duchess. She leaned over and kissed her mother on the cheek. “You’re looking well, Mama . And it’s not ‘what’ but ‘who’? Mother, this is Alexander Beaumont. Alex, my mother, the Duchess Eugenie, ruler of the ancient house of Midignard.” Alex took the Duchess’ hand and raised it to his lips. “I’m honored, Duchess.” Eugenie cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. “An American, eh? Not ‘hiya’, or ‘cool man’, or ‘howdy’? I’m impressed.” “He’s an old-fashioned boy,” Marguerite said with a straight face. “Very romantic.” Eugenie caught some of the interplay as Alex frowned at Marguerite and Marguerite smiled back sweetly at him. The Duchess’ eyes darted up and back between the two. “Where did you get him?” she asked Marguerite. “He’s one of Monsieur Gabriel’s clients.” “You have to give that up, Marguerite. I absolutely forbid it. I told you before…no good will come of it.” “Yes, Mama¢, you’ve told me that before. Many times. Alex is different. He plans to settle somewhere up here in the mountains. I’m going to help him find a place.” Marguerite hesitated. “Mama¢, I’ve asked Alex to stay with us here at the Chateau for a while. It will save me a great deal of running up and back every day between the Chateau and the Carlton on the coast. Such a waste of time, even with the new car.” She saw the surprised look on her mother’s face and rushed to head off any queries. “I’ll tell you about the car later. All that extra traveling would be a real burden. You won’t mind Alex staying with us, will you, Mama¢?” Eugenie looked at Alex with greater interest. “We can’t offer you any of the traditional pleasures of the coast, Monsieur. Our climate up here is different. We have no casinos, no restaurants with famous chefs, no museums, art galleries or tourist shops. We don’t even have very many tourists. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” “Everything that you have none of is what makes the area so attractive,” Alex said. “The excesses of what I’ve heard called ‘summer chic’ apparently haven’t made their way up here, yet. That’s a recommendation in itself.” “How long have you been here?” Eugenie asked. “This is my third day.”

“You’ve learned a good deal in three days.” Alex shrugged. “I took a walk on the beach my first day. Miles of skin…all very attractive and friendly. Nice enough, but I saw a lot of ugly stuff in the water, too. I also saw bumper to bumper traffic on the Rue D’Antibes, La Croisette and most of the side streets. Too many people everywhere. I’ve come to appreciate space and privacy. Perhaps that does make me a little old fashioned.” Eugenie looked at Marguerite. “Do you have another bedroom that’s habitable?” “You know we do, Mama¢. We have three other bedrooms upstairs, right next to mine.” “I said habitable.” Eugenie snorted. “Does the plumbing work?” Marguerite grinned. “Most of the time. He’s a big boy. If the water doesn’t run he can always go behind the stable.” “You’re being obnoxious, Marguerite,” Eugenie said, pretending anger. “Get out. Let me finish my paper. And take your friend with you. Maybe he can even fix something around here.” She shooed them out with a wave of her hand. Just before they reached the door Eugenie called to her daughter. “Marguerite, can you come back for a moment?” Marguerite opened the door. “Alex, please wait. I’ll see what Mama¢ needs.” She hurried back to Eugenie and leaned close to her mother. “Yes Mama¢?” “Why did you ask that Beaumont fellow to stay here? You’ve never done that before.” “That Beaumont fellow may become a long term commitment,” Marguerite said. “And we need the money. I want to keep him close by.” The skin round Eugenie’s eyes wrinkled. “That’s not the way you were looking at him.” A flush of color made Marguerite’s cheeks look as though they’d been rouged. She put her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “You’re right. He’s not like the others. I do like him.” Marguerite walked back to where Alex was waiting, closed the door and led him back down the hall. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “What made you think it would be?” Alex asked. “Oh, Mama¢ can be a bit of a bear, at times, especially with people she doesn’t like. But you’re the first man she’s seen in a while. I think she likes you.” “I like her, too. She’s a woman with character.” Marguerite smiled. “That she has in abundance.” They reached the door to the opposite side of the house. Marguerite opened it and they walked down a few stone steps onto the grassy area in front of the vegetable garden. Beyond the garden there was a small open field. Beyond that, large trees limited the view. “Voila!” Marguerite opened her arms wide. “The Midignard estate.” There was a selfmocking tone in her voice and a grimace on her face.

CHAPTER 10 – HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN! Alex looked at the overgrown shrubs, the crumbling stone wall that surrounded the garden, and the chipped stone of the stairs. “What happened?” Marguerite sighed. “Time…a hundred and fifty years of profligate spending and four generations of incredibly bad management. The Midignards go back to the fourteenth century. Our title is the result of the great military leaders in our family who served France with distinction. That didn’t make them smart managers. We should have stayed military people.” She shook her head as she surveyed the grounds. “My great, great grandfather started the decline by what you Americans call the ‘keeping up with the Jones.’ Queen Victoria discovered the south of France. That ushered in La Belle Époque, the period up until World War I, when this was the British home away from home.” She shrugged. “I’m not blaming the British. They came and we flourished. We loved it. But some of us couldn’t handle it that well.” They walked to the edge of the terrace and stood there. “By Edwardian times the Côte d’Azur was the ‘in’ place. The magnet was what everyone called ‘the Royals’…the British royalty, of course, but also the Empress of Russia, most of the kings of Europe and other royalty from all over the world.” “What did that have to do with you?” “We were a military family, with a title. We had income from our lands, our own vineyards, more than enough money to support this place. What we didn’t have was enough money to keep up with what the Royals had to spend. But the Midignards had a proud name, so we had to keep up.” Marguerite shrugged. “That’s why my forbears thought, anyway. So there were grand balls, lavish entertainment, all the extravagances of fancy food and fashion… Our neighbors were too smart too smart to mortgage their possessions for it. We weren’t.” Her face hardened and she pressed her lips together. “After World War I, when the Côte practically became American territory, we continued as patrons of American writers, artists, and the movie people. We sold our vineyards, mortgaged our lands and finally had to pawn our furniture, paintings, and the family silver.” Alex heard her voice became flat, emotionless. “My father saw what was happening. When he returned from World War II, with wounds from which he never really recovered, he worked to reverse the process, but it was too late. He tried to shield me…shipped me off to schools in Paris and London and even America. I was doing graduate work in finance at the Wharton School when I learned of his death. I hurried back here to take care of Mama¢ and see what I could do to save something.” She shook her head. “Several generations too late. There was nothing left to save. So here we are, the end of the Midignard line, making our last stand. All we have left is Louis and Louise, neither of whom has received a centime from us in over a decade, but they refuse to leave. Louis does the best he can to keep the place from falling down, but he’s over seventy. Louise takes care of the Duchess, does whatever cleaning she can inbetween, and handles the kitchen. She’s a great cook. I don’t know how she does it with the limited income we have.” Marguerite laughed at the look on Alex’s face. “Hey, cheer up, Beaumont. I know it all sounds grim, but it’s not really as bad as all that.” “Yeah, right.” Alex looked around. “There’s nothing you can do?” “Short of a miracle?” She lifted her shoulders. “We have a year left to pay off the

mortgage and nothing to pay it off with. When the mortgage comes due…finis! The bank wants this place badly. The area’s ripe for development. Right now we’re the stumbling block, set in the middle of the plateau, as we are. The bank will make a great deal of money when we leave. As soon as we’re out of the Chateau they’ll tear this place down and open the whole area up. The government wants to run a major road across the plateau and down to the coast. If we sell now we might be able to salvage a little, but you’ve seen Mama¢. All she has left is her proud name. She’s not going to give that up.” “That’s a tough decision to make, Alex said. “I know what we should do, but I can’t let her down. After all, I’m a Midignard too.” “So the only real income you have is the occasional client Monsieur Gabriel finds for you?” “Don’t knock it!” Anger swept across her face and was almost immediately gone. She looked down at the terrace. “Gabriel was my father’s friend. He doesn’t want to do it, but I press him. There really aren’t many alternatives. These relationships don’t mean a thing to me. My emotions aren’t involved.” She looked up, embarrassed, and put her hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean you, Alex.” “It’s all right. I understand. So the occasional money you make with Monsieur Gabriel is just a plug in the dike. It doesn’t really solve anything. Does the Duchess know what you’re doing?” Marguerite turned her head away from Alex. “She knows it. She hates it…and she hates herself for allowing me to do it, but she doesn’t have a choice, so she pretends she doesn’t really know. It’s her private torment, even though I tell her it doesn’t mean anything to me.” “You can’t protect her forever. She’s getting older. If she falls and hurts herself…” “Damnit, don’t you think I know that?” Glints of anger lit her eyes for a moment. “She’s fallen twice. That’s why the cane. None of the falls were serious. If she should break her hip…” “That puts a lot of pressure on you, Maggie. Perhaps you ought to consider taking the bank’s offer.” “It is the logical thing to do, but what you don’t understand is the woman. Mama¢ is generous to a fault. She’s been good to this community and to all the people who’ve worked for her. She’s proud and independent. If I terminate the mortgage now we’ll have some money, but not really enough to live on.” “You could find some kind of work…” Alex said. Marguerite shrugged. “That’s no problem for me, but it will be hard for me to work and take care of Mama¢, too. To put her in a nursing home or some other kind of government medical facility would kill her. Can you see her shut her up in a room, somewhere, when she’s had all this…she’d shrivel up and die. I can’t do that.” Alex nodded. “I understand. And yet, if, a year or two from now, you lose this place and have no financial resources…” “If we reach a dead end…if there are absolutely no choices…I know my mother, Alex. She’ll accept whatever fate has to offer her without a whimper. But it has to be that…an absolute dead end. They’ll still have to drag her away kicking and screaming, but she’ll go. Until then, I’m locked in. You do understand, don’t you?” “I think I do.” Alex took her hand. “I know I’m lucky to be one of Monsieur Gabriel’s clients.” Marguerite leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “You really are a romantic fellow, Alex. Come on. Let me show you around the Chateau before we get too sentimental. Then we’ll go for a drive. There are a few houses around St. Agate that I know are available. After that we’ll pop back to the hotel, pick up your things, come back here and settle in. In spite of what Mama¢ says, the bedrooms are decent, the plumbing works…most of the time…and the roof doesn’t leak. Everything will be fine.”

She started back towards the door, then turned and looked at Alex with a mischievous smile. “Unless it rains really hard, of course.” Alex responded mechanically and followed Marguerite into the chateau. The history of the Midignards he’d just heard from Marguerite wasn’t quite the same as the story DeVigny told him. That worried him. From the beginning he thought DeVigny had been perhaps a little too glib. This was not going to be as cut and dried as it seemed the first time DeVigny talked to him He had a feeling it was going to be a big problem.

CHAPTER 11 – THE FIRST PITCH Later they drove back to the Carlton. Alex checked out, and they headed back to the Chateau, making detours to visit several houses Marguerite thought might interest him. She looked at Alex curiously when they were back on the main road. “You haven’t said a word about any of the places we visited. Am I on the wrong track?” “They were all nice. A little big and overwhelming, though. I think I’d like something a bit more modest.” “Really? I’m a little surprised. I don’t know why, but I thought it would be just the opposite.” Alex’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh, you know, a man of the world like you,” she said. “I thought you’d probably be looking for something even larger, something with more flair. How interesting.” They drove for a few seconds in silence. Marguerite looked at Alex out of the corner of her eye. “I really don’t know much about you, Alex Beaumont. All we’ve talked about is me, Mama¢, the Chateau. Must be terribly dull for you. Tell me about yourself. What do you do?” Alex looked at the countryside speeding by them. “Not much. Pass the time as pleasantly as I can.” “I see. Okay, what did you do? Somehow I don’t think it’s inherited money.” She turned her head briefly for a quick look at him. Alex stared at the landscape, his gaze unfocused. “Fought a lot of battles for other people in a lot of places around the world,” he said after a few moments. Marguerite turned to look at him again and Alex smiled at the look on her face. “My father was born in Quebec. He went to school there and became a teacher. Ultimately a professor. At some point he moved south, into the United States, and became a Professor of Latin and Romance languages at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette. They still taught Latin in those days. My mother taught history there. They met, married, and I came along.” “That’s why you speak French so fluently.” “My father loved Romance languages. In addition to Latin, he taught French, Italian and Spanish and could get by in two or three other languages. Some of that worked its way down to me.” “So?” “I went to the University of Louisiana, of course. My first year at school…both of my parents died in a boating accident. They left enough money for me to finish school and graduate. I studied history...my mother’s influence. After my graduation I found a good teaching job in Boston.” Alex shook his head. “It just wasn’t for me. I felt boxed in, claustrophobic. The thought of doing that for the rest of my life… Then I saw an advertisement for foreign service. It sounded glamorous, adventurous. I didn’t know a thing about that kind of life but I found out, soon enough. Not nearly as glamorous or adventurous as I thought it would be, but I guess I’m a little like you.” “Like me?” “Uh huh. Stubborn. I stayed. And learned the hard way. The pay was good, the years went by...” He turned his head to Marguerite. “That made you rich?” “Rich enough. The one smart thing I did was to have professional people manage all that money I earned while I was cavorting around in far away places. They did very well for me,

got me into some new companies at the start of the computer revolution. I was lucky. So here I am, free as a bird, wandering the earth looking for the love of a good woman.” “I think you found quite a few along the way.” She turned the car onto the lane leading to the Chateau and looked at her watch. “Perfect timing. After you drop off your bags we’ll have a drink with Mama¢. While you’re talking with her I’ll see if Louise needs any help in the kitchen. It’s a waste of time, of course. She never lets me help, but I try.” In the bedroom, upstairs, Alex hung his clothes in the wooden armoire. It was a pleasant room. All the furniture was old, but sturdy and well crafted. A window hung with white lace curtains overlooked the front of the house. He finished unpacking and went down to Eugenie’s room. The Duchess was sitting in the same chair she’d been in earlier in the day. A wine goblet and two glasses were on the table beside her. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you, Duchess. Marguerite said she’d join me here after I unpacked.” Eugenie patted her hair a bit and took a sip of wine. “I trust we haven’t deceived you. The room is satisfactory?” “Oh yes…but I haven’t tried the plumbing yet.” He smiled. “You are a rascal, aren’t you?” She looked at him a little more closely. “I’m surprised you would want to settle down in a place like this, even for a while. We’re so far from the pleasures of the coast.” “Perhaps it’s the very pleasures of the coast I want to avoid.” The Duchess grimaced. “And excesses. Lord knows we do have our thieves, corruption, bribery and every kind of sexual license there is. The last part, especially, is what draws people here. Most of them want to be a part of it. But your remark is something I would have expected from a somewhat older man.” “I know I look a little young, but I’ve led a full life.” Alex’s mouth turned up. “I have been exposed to some of the seamier aspects of life here and there. Perhaps it’s because of those experiences that I like the old villages Marguerite showed me. There’s a sense of calm and quiet. That could become boring after a while, I suppose, but for the time being, those things are desirable.” “Some wine, Monsieur Beaumont?” She nodded toward the wine decanter and extra glass. “Please call me ‘Alex’. He poured wine into the glass. “Beaumont? That’s a solid French name.” “My father was Quebecois. French was the language at home.” Alex sipped the wine and looked at the Duchess thoughtfully. “I heard so much about the Côte d’Azur before I came. Today Marguerite took me to see some homes on the way here, and now I’ve seen the Chateau.” He tilted his head when she didn’t answer immediately. “I have a sense your world…or at least the Côte…has changed a bit these last few decades. I know the usual things are still here. I saw them when I walked near the hotel…the beach bunnies, male and female, the water sports, restaurants and shops, but something seems missing…or is that just my imagination?” Her eyes lit up. “The glory days, when L’Hermitage, the Victoria Hotel and the Winter Palace were the center of the universe…when our visitors were royalty” “Forgive me, Duchess, but isn’t that just a little before your time?” “Yes, it is ancient history. And yet, when I grew up, the Prince of Wales stayed in Cannes, Winston Churchill visited, and as a young girl I remember being on the Onassis yacht. The writers and artists had settled in Vence, Grasse, Haut-de-Cagnes. Sergei Diaghilev had a place in Monaco. Pavlova and Nijinsky danced there, you know. They were intoxicating times.” She gave him a rueful smile.

“And then we were invaded by the Americans…Huxley, Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Maugham…all the great writers. We went to American movies, idolized American movie stars and glorified the Cannes Film Festival.” “But isn’t that what made the Côte d’Azur famous?” “We already were famous,” she said with some asperity. She smiled as her voice softened. “We’re a bouillabaisse…young and old, rich and not so rich, society and hoi polloi…everyone looking for their own Mediterranean.” Alex nodded. “In my hotel room there was a pile of literature about something called Sophia-Antipolis.” “Our new God….technologie…High Tech… whatever that means.” The Duchess made a derisive sound. “More than anything, that’s what brought the change. Every medical group in the world comes here for their conferences. All the professionals…lawyers, doctors, engineers…all you have to say is ‘Riviera’ and everybody comes, especially the engineers. They’re all over this area like flies.” She leaned forward, hands on top of the handle of her cane. “It was the ‘technologie’ that started the flood. Your big American companies all do research here. Once they came, everyone wanted to come. Now our Riviera is like your Silicon Valley in California. “But surely that has to be good for the community?” Alex said. “It sounds like there must be plenty of work.” “Yes, there are jobs for anyone who wants to work…computers, electronics, data processing. I don’t even know what those words mean. Having work is good. But we pay a high price for it. We have traffic that throttles you during the season and is just plain awful out of season. It doesn’t affect us much up here, but on the coast…” She shook her head. “And with all that prosperity our coastal cities begin to look like garbage dumps. Anyone who owns a piece of property anywhere is rushing around like a chicken without a head, trying to sell it to all those hungry buyers for some outrageous sum. It’s like some disease that’s infected almost everyone.” She shook her cane at Alex. “You shouldn’t have started me on this.” “I didn’t mean to upset you, Duchess. I thought that perhaps all this prosperity could have some beneficial affect on the value of the Chateau.” Duchess Eugenie sank back against the cushion on her chair. “In a way we’re lucky,” she said in a voice that had lost its vigor. “Since l980, new building has been prohibited. Many houses up here are being restored, even re-created. We still have the scenery, the clean air, and the beautiful light that shines down on us like no other place on earth.” She turned her head towards the windows. The sunlight that filtered through the lace curtains bathed her face in a golden glow. She stared out the window for a moment, then sighed. “But even up here the ‘high-tech’ companies find us. As the crush becomes too intense on the coast, they begin to move inland, upland. Certainly it’s increased the value of our property. But we should try to preserve our heritage, not use it as just another opportunity to make money. It’s a losing battle, I’m afraid.” Alex nodded. “But if you must lose, Duchess, isn’t it better to do it while some of the benefits may still come to you instead of to the developers?” “You’re a sensible young man, but sense won’t save this Chateau, or Marguerite or me. The people who live up here look to us for leadership, to hold the line against unrestricted growth, but we don’t have a chance. Those rapacious beasts, the bankers, the developers, and the government officials…long ago they sacrificed sentiment, family or heritage to their greed for money.” She made an unladylike sound. “The day after we’re gone, those vultures will raze this place and turn it into some commercial monstrosity. If we sell, our friends will have to sell, too. They’ll make some money, but in a few years no one will know we ever existed. We’ll

be victims of progress. Diantre! What a eulogy.” She sat up straight again, head erect. “Well, have I painted a proper portrait of gloom and doom for you? Don’t you believe it! The Midignards come from a long line of fighters. They haven’t taken us yet. If they do beat us, at least Marguerite and I will go down with honor.” Alex was thoughtful for a moment, then slowly nodded. “A noble stand, Duchess. Every old soldier I’ve ever met wishes he had died with his boots on. But must Marguerite go down with you? She’s a little young for that.” Eugenie squeezed her eyes shut. The knuckles of her hands, clamped over the cane, showed white. At that moment Marguerite opened the door. She stared at the Duchess. “Mama¢! What happened? Alex, what have you been saying?” “I just gave Alex a thumbnail version of our history and what’s been happening around here,” Eugenie said, opening her eyes and smiling. Normal color flooded back into her cheeks. “Oh, that. Come on, you two. Louise has prepared a wonderful bouillabaisse.” Marguerite saw Alex and the Duchess exchange glances and smile. “Now what? You two look like a couple of conspirators.” “The Duchess mentioned bouillabaisse in a somewhat different context.” Alex said. He walked to the Duchess and extended his arm. Eugenie rose and took Alex’s arm. “Marguerite, watch out for this man. He’s a rascal.” “I’m glad you like him, Mama¢.” They went towards the dining room, the Duchess holding Alex’s arm. ‘Well,’ Alex thought when he lay down on the bed in his room after lunch, ‘I’ve made my first pitch. Now where do I go from here? I have only a week or two.’

CHAPTER 12 – MEET THE DEVIL As he made his bed the next morning, Alex heard the sound of a car speeding into the courtyard. He walked over to the window in time to see the car brake to a hard stop at the terrace. A young, blonde woman got out of the white Jaguar convertible. She was wearing spandex bottoms that clung to her like a second layer of skin, a halter-top, and a short bolero over the halter. It seemed a deliberately provocative outfit. He slipped a loose fitting shirt over his pants and went downstairs. He heard the sound of women’s voices when he approached the dining room. Alex opened the door. A long table that could seat two dozen people dominated the room. Opposite the table a massive sideboard ran the length of the wall. Four large windows dominated the far wall. Marguerite was having breakfast at the head of the table. The blonde sat in the first chair to her left, one elbow on the table. “Good morning,” Alex said. “Am I intruding?” Marguerite’s face lit up. “Alex. I didn’t’ call you because I thought you might prefer a later breakfast this morning. Come in. I want you to meet an old friend.” He walked towards the two women. “Alex, this is Melisande Villeneuve. Her family has lived on the plateau since the sixteenth century. Sandy and I have known each other since we were babies. Unlike me, she’s an expert skier, champion tennis player, as good as most of the golf pros up here, and she has a drawer full of swimming trophies. Outside of that…” She smiled as she turned her head to her friend. “Sandy, this is Alex Beaumont. He’s staying with us for a while.” Sandy took a deep breath and turned so that Alex could get the full effect of her figure. “A man, Marguerite? Staying with you? It must be ages since you had guests in this old mausoleum. Especially male guests. You must be very special, Alex Beaumont.” She held her hand out so Alex had to take it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Villeneuve.” “Everyone calls me Sandy.” Alex nodded. “Sandy, then.” “Have some breakfast, Alex,” Marguerite said. “It’s on the sideboard. We have a lot of ground to cover today, and I want to get an early start.” Alex selected a few items from the sideboard and brought the dishes to the table. He sat opposite Sandy. “Alex, Sandy lives in that huge house at the far end of the plateau. I pointed it out to you when we drove by, yesterday. It's the one that looks like a castle.” “Is a castle, my dear. Let’s not forget our history,” Sandy said, but her eyes were on Alex. “So, Mr. Beaumont…” He smiled. “Just ‘Alex’, please.” She gave him a brief, mechanical smile. “So, Alex, what brings you up here to this dull plateau when our glorious coast is only half an hour away?” “I thought I might settle in the neighborhood for a while. Maggie is taking me around, filling in your local history and keeping me away from the real estate traps.” “Maggie? How cute. It sounds so…familiar. And in the meantime you’re staying at the Chateau. You must be very close.” “Close enough,” he said noncommittally. “And your wife?” “I’m not married.” “Marguerite, aren’t you lucky,” Sandy turned a bright smile on Alex, not even looking at Marguerite. “We have a dearth of eligible men up here. The older ones die and the younger ones escape to the coast. And where did you two meet?”

Alex looked at Marguerite. Her eyes narrowed and she spoke in a flat voice. “At Monsieur Gabriel’s,” she said. “How interesting. Then, you must be very close indeed. Marguerite, dear, you’re not going to keep Alex all for yourself, are you?” She didn’t give Marguerite a chance to answer. “It wouldn’t be fair.” Suddenly she began to bob up and down on her chair. “Oh Alex, I have a great idea. I was planning to go sailing tomorrow. I have a boat at Port Vauban in Antibes. It’s called The Villeneuve. Marguerite can take you around to look at buildings all day today, if that’s what you want to do. But tomorrow you must come with me. I’ll show you what the Côte is really about. You’ll love it. And we can get to know each other better. The Villaneuve’s not a great big yacht, but it is very cozy.” She looked straight at Alex, a smile on her lips. “You’ll find it such a change from running up and down these mountains all day. It’ll be fun. I’ll pick you up early; say about ten, so we can have a full day.” Alex looked at Marguerite who nodded reluctantly. Sandy, watching, smiled in triumph. “Marguerite won’t mind, Alex,” Sandy said. “She always has so much to do around this place. I know. She’s told me that a thousand times when I try to break the monotony for her and take her away for a while. She almost never comes with me anymore, not even for a few hours.” One of Sandy’s hands flew up to cover her open mouth. “Oh Marguerite, I’m so sorry. You will come along with us, won’t you?” Marguerite looked at Sandy for a moment, and then dropped her eyes. “You’re right, Sandy. I do have so much to do. Thanks, anyway.” “That goes for me, too,” Alex said, standing. “Marguerite has arranged several visits for me. Some other time, perhaps.” Sandy sat up straight in her chair, her head erect, face cold. The good humor was gone. “Nonsense. You have to come. It’s for your own good. Too much of these mountains is bad for anyone. It shuts out life.” She turned and looked at Marguerite. They sat there, eyes locked. When Sandy spoke she focused on Marguerite, not Alex. “Marguerite knows it’s important for you to come with me, Alex. She may have tradition and history on her side, but I know the social life of this community. If you’re planning on living here, you’re going to want to meet people, and I have the key to all those doors. Isn’t that right…Maggie?” Marguerite’s body sagged. “She’s right, Alex. I do have things to do. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t go with her. We can delay our scouting around for a day or two.” Alex wanted to go over to Marguerite and put his arms around her. Instead he smiled at Sandy and nodded. “I’ll be ready at ten, then.” “Perfect, Alex. Thank you, Marguerite, for lending me your charming friend for a day.” She rose in one quick, athletic movement, waved goodbye and left. Alex and Marguerite both waited to speak until they heard her car roar off. “You two must play a lot of ‘one-upsmanship’ games with each other,” Alex said. “She always gets the upper hand.” Marguerite’s voice was a mixture of anger and frustration. “Maybe, but the way you looked at her a few minutes ago, I don’t think I’d want to get on your bad side.” Marguerite glared at him. “Don’t you dare enjoy yourself tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 13 – SANDY’S MOVE Alex stood beside Sandy on the bridge as she piloted the Villeneuve out of the slip, past the line of huge yachts moored on their right. “Millionaire’s Row,” she said as she turned her head towards the ocean-going yachts that dwarfed the Villeneuve. “Nice, but forty feet is perfect for me. I’ve visited every port in Southern France and the northern Italian coast on her. We have great accommodations. The Villaneuve’s a good party boat.” She smiled. “Very impressive. Almost as impressive as the way you’re handling this boat. Very professional.” She fluttered her eyes at him, deliberately exaggerating the movement. “Anything I do, I do well.” Alex didn’t rise to the bait. She shook her head. “You’re a hard sell. All right, what do you think of all this?” “Of all what?” “The port, the boats, the beach, the climate? Isn’t it incredible?” “It’s very nice.” “Enjoy it while you can,” Sandy said. “In another month the tourists will start to arrive. A necessary evil, but they do make life difficult.” “Is that when you retire back up to the mountains?” Sandy’s concentration on piloting the yacht left her for a moment. “You really are naïve, Alex. Only Marguerite and the Duchess retreat from the real world like that. Aside from the boat and the beach, there are wonderful restaurants, nightclubs, every sport you could want, a thousand fairs of one kind or another, the Cannes Film Festival... There’s something happening every day. You can never be bored.” “Do you ever get a tired of all those activities?” “My God, Alex, is there anything else?” She swiveled her head around for a quick look at him, eyes wide. “Oh, I see.” Sandy grimaced and faced forward again. “And what is it that you see, Sandy?” “It’s Marguerite, isn’t it? Don’t bother to deny it. I see all the signs. Dear Alex, don’t get taken in by all that dedication and sacrifice claptrap.” “You mean it isn’t true?” “Of course it’s true. But she’s a loser. So is the Duchess. The whole Midignard family…they’ve been losers, for generations. They’re going to lose the Chateau. They’ve already lost whatever income they had from their property. You’ve been in the chateau. You must have noticed just about everything they owned is gone. Marguerite and the Duchess are going to wind up in some abandoned beach shack somewhere, with Marguerite a slave, trying to keep the Duchess alive for another year or two. All totally unnecessary. No one around here understands them.” “What did they do wrong?” Alex asked. “They fell in love with royalty.” Sandy shrugged. “I’m sure you heard it from the Duchess. Fun in the sun with our royal friends. One great ball after another, music, dance, art, life on the grand scale.” She muttered an expletive as she maneuvered the Villaneuve through a small flotilla of speedboats. “The Saracens, the Italian wars and the pirates all took their share of our fortunes at one time or another over the centuries. We knew we were not the financial equals of the Royals, so we were a little cautious about spending our resources with such abandon. “Except for the Midignards.” “Right. They kept up, and it brought them to the pitiful state they’re in now.” They were out of the port now and Sandy turned the boat to run parallel to the coast.

After a while she turned to look at Alex, standing beside her. “I’m not the cold hearted bitch I sound, Alex. Marguerite’s always been my best friend. I’m not blaming her or the Duchess for what happened in the past. But certainly Marguerite should have seen what was happening. She was studying finance somewhere in the United States when the Duke died and she had to come home. One look at the records should have told her.” “Did Marguerite have the authority to do that? “The Duke knew what he was doing. He bypassed Eugenie and gave Marguerite the authority to handle everything. Instead, Marguerite fell for the same mumbo jumbo the Duchess recites to anyone who’ll listen…family history, pride, tradition. What’s tradition brought them? To the brink of disaster. And they won’t allow anyone to do a thing to help them.” “Everything you said rings true.” For just a moment Sandy’s flippant attitude slipped a notch. “Oh it’s true enough. I’ve talked with Marguerite about it a hundred times. But you know the old saying…you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. I’ve given up on them. I stay in touch, try to help…” She shrugged, then broke into a broad smile. “And steal Marguerite’s boyfriends.” She laughed at the look on Alex’s face, leaned forward and kissed him lightly. “Well, what will it be? Do you snorkel, dive? I have plenty of gear down below.” Alex shook his head. “Sorry, I never had time to learn, though it sounds like fun.” “Too busy making money?” Alex shrugged. “As good an answer as any.’ “Well, what did you do that was more important?” Sandy said, pressing him. “I spent almost two decades in several countries in Africa, Central America and the Far East, trying to help governments stabilize their positions.” “You were a political consultant?” “Not exactly. I was with the military, officially and unofficially.” Sandy’s eyes widened. “You were a…mercenary?” “That’s not the most flattering term for what we did.” “I didn’t know that kind of work could make you rich.” Alex smiled. “Risky business pays well. I invested most of my income in the same kind of financial risks that I was taking in the military field. I got lucky.” He shrugged. “Sometimes those things work out.” “How fortunate. Well, why don’t we head for a quiet beach, have a swim, then lunch on the boat. I looked below when I came on board. I’m fully stocked.” “Yes, you are.” “Well, it’s about time,” Sandy said, obviously pleased. “I’ve thrown out enough hints, but you didn’t seem to notice. I was beginning to wonder about you.” “Don’t be so obvious. You can manage without saying a word. Now how about that swim?” They dropped anchor off a deserted beach. Sandy took a pair of towels, stuffed them into a waterproof bag and put a belt about her waist. A line about six feet long with clips at each end was attached to the bag. She clipped the free end to the belt on her waist and held the bag in her arms. “Race you to shore.” She stepped over the transom onto a diving platform and jumped into the water. Alex watched her swim towards the shore, the bag floating in the water behind her. He slipped off his shirt and followed her into the water. Sandy was a strong swimmer. Alex had to swim hard to overtake her. He reached the beach only a few strokes ahead of her. They stepped carefully over the rocks in the water and onto the beech. Alex was out of breath. They laughed. Sandy unhooked her belt, took the towels out of the bag and handed one to Alex.

“You fooled me,” Sandy said. “I’ve won a number of swimming meets. I thought I’d have you swamped.” “I guessed you’d be good, but not that good,” Alex said. “Whatever you do, you do well.” “You’re teasing me.” She picked up a handful of sand and threw it at him. Alex backed away a few steps, holding his hand up to protect his face. They played at throwing sand at each other for a while. “All right, soldier boy,” Sandy said. “Have you caught your breath yet?” Alex nodded. “Good. Throw me the towel.” He handed her the towel, a questioning look on his face. She stuffed the two wet towels back into the bag and hooked up again. “Okay, let’s see how good you really are. Race you back to the boat.” She held the bag and threaded her way across the rocks, then dove into the water. Alex shook his head and followed her. At first he almost caught up with her. The bag she was pulling slowed her down; but by the time they got close to the boat he’d fallen ten yards behind. She climbed the little ladder onto the diving platform at the stern. By the time Alex reached the ladder Sandy had the bag unhooked, and was watching him over the deck. She reached down and helped him up. He stood on the platform, head down, holding onto the rail. “Another ten yards and I would have drowned,” Alex said. “You’re a better man than me, Gunga Din.” “I hope not,” she said, looking at him with pretended coyness. She took a pair of dry towels out of a locker, threw him one and sat in a deck chair opposite him. “It takes a lot of training to handle that second hundred yards at the same clip. I didn’t think you’d even come close. You feeling all right? I wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack. Not now.” “Just a little winded,” Alex said. “Everything else is fine. I’m very impressed, Sandy. You’re in great shape.” She gave him an amused look. “And the day’s not over yet. That’s something to look forward to. Come on. Let’s go below. We have showers and dry towels.” The hot shower in the small guest stateroom was wonderful. When Alex finished, he found a large towel on a wall hook outside the door. He could hear the sound of a hair dryer coming from the forward cabin. After he’d dried himself he slipped into the large white bathrobe that hung on a hook near the door. The sound of the hairdryer stopped and he heard Sandy’s voice calling him. Alex opened the door of his cabin. Sandy stood in the open doorway of the master cabin. She was wearing a robe similar to his and brushing her hair. “Come in, Alex.” He walked down the corridor and stood in doorway, staring at the large double bed. Sandy was standing in front of a dresser with a large mirror. “Come in and relax. I’ll be done in a minute or two.” The only chair in the cabin was near Sandy. He sat on the far edge of the bed. Sandy turned, saw where he was sitting and laughed. “For a man of the world you’re altogether too proper…and shy. Stretch out. Your muscles need it.” She watched Alex inch his way back until his whole body lay on the bed. Sandy put the hairbrush down and turned to face him, one elbow on the top of the dresser. “You’re a strange duck, Alex Beaumont. I know this can’t be an altogether unfamiliar scene to you and I know I’m not the ugliest girl on the beach.” She looked at him thoughtfully, then slowly nodded her head. “It’s Marguerite, isn’t it?” He didn’t say anything. “Alex, you must believe me…” Alex was surprised at the forceful way she spoke. He rose up on one elbow, meeting her eyes.

“Even if you’ve been hooked--fight it. Don’t let her reel you in.” Her words leaped out at him. “If you met her as one of Monsieur Gabriel’s clients, I know you’ve spent the night with her. You’ve probably spent the night with dozens of other girls in the past. So what? It’s not a marriage contract. Marguerite is smart…and probably very good…but she doesn’t know how to give. She has no fire, no heart. If she has one, it’s locked away so deep no one will ever find the key for it.” Passion filled Sandy’s voice. “She’s incredibly loyal to the Duchess, to the family heritage, to the Midignard name. The Chateau is Marguerite’s life. She doesn’t have anything left over for anyone else. All you can do is get hurt.” “You could be right, Sandy. That’s mostly what she talks about. Still, there may be a chance…” Sandy came close to the foot of the bed in front of Alex. “Trust me, Alex. It’s a lost cause. You need someone who has something to give, who’s not tied to some old building falling apart under the weight of history. You don’t want a symbol. You want a real, live woman, a woman who can make your senses flame.” She untied her robe. It hung open loosely, revealing part of her body. “Let me show you.” She started to move onto the bed. Alex snapped upright. He swung his feet over the side of the bed, his body twisted so he could face her. “Sandy…don’t.” Her eyes opened wide and a disbelieving smile touched her lips. Alex held his hands apart. “It’s crazy, I know. No man in his right mind would turn you down. But I just don’t feel right about it. And it isn’t fair to you. Please forgive me.” He stood up beside the bed. “Maybe Marguerite’s right. She called me an old fashioned guy. I never thought of myself like that, but…” Sandy’s face darkened. “I almost made a fool of myself, didn’t I?” “Not you,” Alex said. “You could defrost the socks off a brass monkey.” “Marguerite was right. You are old fashioned. Okay, let’s forget it…for now. But I’m not writing you off. I’m just putting you on hold. Alex watched Sandy close her robe and tie the belt. The macho part of him felt like he’d just done something really stupid; and yet part of him sighed with relief. DeVigny never told him about Sandy.

CHAPTER 14 – THE GAME GETS COMPLICATED When he returned to the Chateau, that night, Alex drove around the driveway that circled the building. The old stable in back had been converted into a garage. He pulled into the first of the four bays and turned off his lights. The Chateau was dark except for a light in the kitchen. He walked up the few steps to the kitchen. The door opened as he reached for the latch. Marguerite stood in the doorway, her face in shadow with the light of the kitchen behind her. “That was a long day at the beach,” she said. He tried to read the tone of her voice. “A little longer than I wanted it to be. On the way back, Sandy insisted we go to some noisy restaurant on the Rue D’Antibes. Crowded. Sweaty dance floor. And she wanted to dance.” “She wanted to dance, huh? I know Sandy. She always wants to dance after she’s landed another fish.” Her words sent a chill through him. “You’re wrong,” he said, edging past her. “We just danced. It wasn’t my idea.” “One look at Sandy and it’s every man’s idea,” Marguerite said, a bitter edge to her voice. “But it’s Sandy who makes the choice of which rooster to pluck.” She slammed the door closed. “Come off it, Maggie.” She whirled around, her nostrils flared. “Don’t you ‘Maggie’ me, Alex Beaumont! Save your honey for your new friend.” For a moment the anger in her voice stunned him. Then suddenly his face lit up. “I don’t believe it!” he said. “You’re jealous. That’s wonderful.” Sparks of anger flashed from her gray eyes. She was about to speak but he held up his hand. “No, don’t say anything. Your reaction is the best thing that’s happened to me all day.” He grinned. He knew she wanted to lash out at him for the affair she thought he’d had with Sandy that afternoon, but his happiness at learning of her jealousy apparently caught her off guard. It was the first time he’d seen Marguerite’s reserve break down. How wrong Sandy had been. Before Marguerite could say anything he was in front of her, one arm behind her waist. For a second she resisted. Then her arms were around him. She ground her lips against his with a fierce passion. “I know you’re angry with me, Marguerite,” he said when they separated. “But be reasonable. I thought I was just going out for a day on her boat. Instead I became just another item in her collection. Sandy doesn’t mean a thing to me, nor I to her, and that’s just the way I want it. There’s nothing about her values or the way she lives that has any interest for me. I’d much rather be here with you. And we didn’t do anything,” he added as an afterthought. Marguerite turned to the stove. “Do you want some coffee?” “Love it. How’s the Duchess?” “Fine.” Marguerite poured two cups of coffee and brought them to the table. “I think she likes you,” she said as she sat opposite Alex. “I like her, too. For a lady who doesn’t get out much, she has a good grasp of what’s happening in this part of the world.” “You listened. That’s what she liked. No one else who’s come here recently ever did. All they do is chastise her for not getting rid of the Chateau. Maybe they mean well. Maybe they’re even right, but it makes her feel beleaguered, besieged. When she sees them coming up the road she wants to pull up the drawbridge and pour boiling oil down on them.

That’s the effect they have on her.” “She’s real warrior stock, all right,” Alex said, looking into his cup. “But is there any virtue in what they’re saying?” “What difference does it make?” Alex watched Marguerite pick up her cup and walk to the window. She stood there, her back to him. Perhaps it was the way her body sagged. She looked tired, dispirited, defeated. “It’s as though there’s a Juggernaut rolling down on us,” Marguerite said. “Nobody can stop it now. There’s too much momentum. It’ll come to an end by itself soon enough.” Neither of them spoke for a while. Finally Margaret turned. “I have a few places for you to visit, tomorrow. We should leave around ten. Is that all right with you?” “Fine.” Alex put his cup down, stood up, took a few steps towards the door then stopped. He turned, looked at Margaret and then walked back to her. She looked at him in surprise. Alex took her by the shoulders and kissed her. “Cheer up, Mag. I know you’re carrying a big load of baggage, but there’s a saying in America…It ain’t over until the fat lady sings…and she hasn’t sung yet. See you in the morning.” He walked out. Duchess Eugenie was in the midst of breakfast when Alex came into the dining room the next morning. “Good morning, Duchess,” he said. “May I join you?” “Of course. Where have you been? I missed you yesterday.” Alex took some food from the sideboard, carried it to table and sat beside Eugenie. “I spent the day on the coast aboard a boat with Sandy Villeneuve.” “How fortunate for you. Mistress Melisande is always on the lookout for new dishes to sample.” “Makes me feel a little like a sacrificial lamb when you say it like that.” “Not too much of a sacrifice, I imagine.” Duchess Eugenie buttered some toast. “Sandy’s taste is eclectic. She doesn’t discriminate all that much.” “Ouch. You’re very good with a rapier.” Eugenie looked at him with a steady gaze. “And with a broadsword, as well.” “I believe,” Alex said after a moment. Eugenie sighed. “Too bad.” Alex’s eyebrows lifted. “I think Marguerite is very fond of you,” Eugenie said. “I haven’t seen her show interest in any man for a long time. Just having her ask you to stay here at the Chateau is remarkable. Oh well, Melisande is something that happens to almost every man around here sooner or later, so yesterday doesn’t really count.” “That’s a very modern point of view.” “For an old lady?” “I didn’t mean that.” “Of course you did,” Eugenie said with some annoyance. She raised her shoulders. “Thirty or forty years ago I would have been as shocked by what I just said as anyone else. The world changes.” Eugenie moved her dishes aside and looked directly at Alex. “I don’t want to see Marguerite hurt. She pretends to be tough and unemotional. That’s just body armor. Anyone with two eyes can see how tender she is inside. Don’t play games with her.” “I’m very fond of Marguerite, too. She is…exceptional,” Alex said. He looked straight into Eugenie’s eyes. “She wears that armor to fend off the world and protect herself against the problems with the Chateau. I know what she’s really like underneath that tough exterior. But it’s not easy to reach that inner person. It will take time. I’ll try not to do anything to hurt her. For starters…you should know that nothing ‘happened’ with Sandy yesterday.” At that moment Marguerite pushed the kitchen door open with her elbows and came into

the dining room. Her hands were covered with grease. “Morning, Alex. Mama¢, I’ve got that damned water pump fixed. For the time being, anyway. I don’t know how long it will last. We’ve gone a whole week without anything breaking down. Must be Alex’s influence.” She gave Alex a warm, happy smile. “I’ll be ready to go as soon as I wash up, Alex. I’ve already eaten. Be nice to him, Mama¢. He might become a neighbor.” She kissed her mother on the cheek and went out. “A mechanic, too?” Alex smiled. “One has to be, to live here. Everything’s held together with spit, faith and rubber bands. One day they’re going to cart us away, probably tied up in straight jackets. But when they come in here after we’re gone and see how this place is held together…they won’t bother to fix anything. They’ll just blow it up.” Alex squinted as he looked at her. “Well you could…” Eugenie reached for her cane and brandished it at him. “Don’t you dare tell me to get out now or I’ll beat you myself!” “Simmer down, Duchess. I’m with you. We’ll man the battlements together. I was going to say…you could booby trap the place before you go.” Eugenie shook her head. “I like you, Alex, even if I don’t quite believe you. You’re fast on your feet. Now go away and get ready for Marguerite. She doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Alex went close to Eugenie, leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She lifted her face to him, then brushed him off with her hand. “Get away. Get away. I hate that mushy stuff.” Alex grinned as he left, but the smile left his face after he left the room.. Everything had suddenly become very complicated. Fighting in the jungle had been much more direct. You knew who your enemies were…at least most of the time. The ground had shifted. Whose side was he on, now?

CHAPTER 15 – ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN “Alex, Louise asked me to pick up a few things for her from the market,” Marguerite said when they started from the Chateau the next morning. “It’s only two or three kilometers from St. Agate. I could postpone it if you want, but I thought you might like to see the market. It’s so colorful and cheerful.” “Sounds like fun.” The little frown of worry lifted from Marguerite’s forehead. “I know you’ll like it. You’ll experience the true flavor of Provence.” “Let’s go.” The market occupied the whole square in the center of the small town of Le Petite Massif. It was in full swing when they arrived. On one side of the square a Cafe¢, the width of the square, had all its outside tables full, chairs overflowing into the market itself. The market was packed with people. Alex held Marguerite’s hand to keep from being separated from her by the bustling crowd. An intoxicating aroma filled the air. All the local products were on display…fruits, vegetables, herbs, meat, cheese, fish, and the region’s staples…olives, olive oil, bread, honey and garlic. Purple-tinged baby artichokes, lemons, peaches and cherries, fragrant lavender, basil and thyme, chocolates, estouffados (almond butter cookies), and sacca (chickpea flour crepes) were piled to overflowing on almost every cart. The scene was an artist’s palette, not just of colors but of all the senses. He looked around, trying to take it all in. Marguerite, watching Alex, smiled with relief. She’d been a little uncertain about bringing him to the market. His obvious pleasure at the lively good humor of the crowd and the banter of the vendors erased any worry she might have had. He had accepted the spirit of the marketplace. “What a great idea you had to bring me here,” Alex said on their way back to the Chateau. “I’ve seen markets in a dozen countries around the world, but nothing had the same spirit I saw this morning. Wonderful.” They gave Louise the products they purchased at the market and then spent the rest of the morning looking at the homes Margaret had arranged for him to see. One of them, almost as large as the Chateau, was perched on the very edge of the gorge just a kilometer from St. Agate; another home, a rambling, low slung building, was set in the wine country amidst rolling hills just below the plateau; and yet another house, not far from the market, looked remarkably like a Swiss chalet. Alex was pleasant to everyone but gave no hint about how he felt. When they were in the car after they’d seen the third house Alex made his first comment about the homes they’d visited. “That’s the first place I’ve seen that has a decent kitchen.” “You cook?” “Nothing to speak of, but I do like all the proper kitchen amenities.” Marguerite shook her head. “Not up here. Most of these houses date back to medieval times. You won’t see many stainless steel sinks, dishwashers or waste disposals. You have to go a lot closer to the coast for that.” “Not today, I hope.” “Maybe you should have gone with a real estate company after all,” Marguerite said. “They could have done most of the legwork for you. I know this is time consuming and wearisome.” “But I wouldn’t have enjoyed the company nearly as much.” “Thank you, sir. Well, we’re nearly at the end of the plateau. As long as we’re here we

could take a short detour and drive by the Villeneuve place. It’s worth a look and we’re only about two kilometers away.” “Sure. I’d like to see Melisande’s castle.” “At least you’ll see what a building in good repair looks like.” A few hundred meters further Marguerite turned the car onto a narrow side road. About a kilometer ahead, a car raced towards them. Marguerite moved the little red car over to the right and the other car roared past. Melisande, a bandana over her head, tied under her chin, and dark glasses over her eyes, drove by in her white convertible. She turned to look at them as she passed and her head jerked up. Marguerite and Alex looked at each other. Almost immediately they heard the sound of brakes squealing, and Melisande’s car screeched to a stop. Marguerite pulled her car to the side of the road and they waited. A moment later the white Jaguar backed up until it was alongside them. “I didn’t recognize the red car,” Sandy said in obvious surprise. “It’s new,” Marguerite said. “A gift.” “How nice.” Sandy lowered her eyeglasses and looked over the rim at them. She pushed the glasses back up. “Oh, Alex, I wanted to tell you…I had such a great day with you. We must do it again soon. I know you’re busy looking at houses, but Marguerite will be glad to let you take a day off for a little vacation, won’t you dear?” “That’s up to Alex,” Marguerite said. Sandy smiled. “Alex won’t say no. I’m sure of that.” Alex nodded. “I can’t believe I have two beautiful women so eager for my company. It would be wonderful if we were all together on the boat.” Sandy’s face became cold. She waved briefly, put her car in gear and roared away. “Touché.” Marguerite leaned over, took Alex’s head in her hands and kissed him, then sat back in her seat. “That was a real zinger. I loved it.” She looked at her watch. “Okay, we’ll take a quick look at Sandy’s fortress before we return to the Chateau. Then it will be time for lunch.” “I have a better idea,” Alex said. “Why don’t we head down to the coast after we look at Melisande’s place. I really haven’t seen anything there except for a few feet of beach and Sandy’s boat. You can show me the real Côte d’Azur, and then we can have dinner.” “That would be fun, Alex. I know a lovely place we can start, in St. Tropez. It’s a casual restaurant. They have tables outside with a view of the sea, and they make a tagliatelle with pistou that’s really good.” She stopped for a second, then grinned. “I know you’ll like it. The name should be familiar…La Bouillabaisse.” “That word’s going to haunt me, I know. Okay. Sounds great. Then you can show me all the secret 'in' places, and later, after dinner, perhaps you can find someplace we can go dancing. “It’s quite a while since I’ve gone dancing…just for fun,” Marguerite said. Her face brightened. “What a great idea, Alex. I’d love it.” She lowered her head a bit and looked at Alex out of the corner of her eyes. “Of course I don’t have the same reason for wanting to dance that Sandy has.” “Easily remedied,” Alex grinned. “We could stop off someplace first?” “If we stop anywhere it’s going to be at the Chateau for a quick change of clothes. That’s all, my friend.” She laughed at his downcast face. “Come on, Romeo. We’ll take a fast look at the Villeneuve monument and then scoot on down to the coast.” She laughed. “Today I feel like Cinderella with her godmother…like anything could happen.”

CHAPTER 16 – A “DIVERTISSEMENT” They had lunch at La Bouillabaisse. After lunch, Alex asked Marguerite to take him on a tour of her favorite places on the coast. At sunset, tired and hungry after a day of exploring, they wound up in Nice at a seaside restaurant with a piano bar and small dance floor. A trio played popular music and the dance floor was crowded. They stayed several hours, dancing from time to time, Marguerite’s head on Alex’s shoulder. “I’m glad you picked this place,” Alex said. “I don’t know if I could have handled one of those discotheques with the strobe lights and the noise and the crush of people.” “I don’t think I can anymore, either.” Marguerite looked at the couples dancing close to each other as they moved slowly to the sensuous music. “The last time I did the athletic stuff I was in college, eons ago. It was fun, then, but apparently I’ve changed. Maybe I’ve become too serious, these last few years. Tonight was wonderful. How was the place you went to with Sandy?” “Too noisy, too many people, too much movement. It was more a workout than a dance. I never really learned how to do that kind of thing. When I looked at the other people around me, I felt totally out of place.” “Where did Sandy take you?” Marguerite asked. “The name of the place was something about a bird, I think. Not far from the marina.” Marguerite nodded. “The Parrot. Very popular. That’s where Sandy would go.” “Talking about going…”Alex looked at his watch. “I think it’s time we wrapped it up.” “It’s been a long time since I’ve stayed up this late on my own,” Marguerite said. “This last year or two I’ve been living kind of a monastic life.” She stopped, suddenly. “I didn’t mean it that way.” “Relax, Maggie. I understood what you meant. Let’s go.” They left the restaurant and came out onto a long, narrow street with cars parked bumper to bumper on both sides. Shops lined the street in both directions. It was almost midnight, but the cafes and restaurants were still open. All the tables on the sidewalk were filled with people. Automobile traffic was heavy, and there was much honking of horns. Alex looked at the traffic and made a face. Marguerite smiled. “And this is still out of season,” she said. “The coast wasn’t built for the twentieth century. Everything’s squeezed into a relatively narrow space along the shore. Even in town it’s faster to walk than take a taxi.” She shrugged. “We live with it.” “I guess so. Let’s see… we were one block left then up two streets and then left again for about a hundred feet, right?” She nodded, put her arm through his and they started walking, Alex on the outside. When they turned the corner onto the street where their car was parked they found themselves on a narrow, much darker street. All the cars were parked with two wheels on the sidewalk and two wheels in the road. It left a very narrow path for auto traffic. The only streetlights were on the corners of the cross streets. Alex looked down the street, eyes searching right and left. He moved to Marguerite’s other side so he was again on the outside. Marguerite smiled. “That’s us, seven , eight cars down,” Alex said. They were almost at the car when two men stepped out of the shadow of a doorway. Both were holding large, open, pocket-knives. The smaller of the two men threw an arm around Marguerite’s neck and held his knife against her throat. The other man advanced to within a foot or two of Alex. “Quickly. Give us your money,” said the man whose knife threatened Marguerite. “And don’t make a sound or she gets her throat slit.” Marguerite struggled to speak. “It’s all right, Alex. Give him your money. They won’t

harm us if you do.” Alex looked at the second man whose knife was now inches away from him. Alex’s mouth opened and he started to gasp. His chest heaved as he took in large gulps of air. He staggered and fell back towards the car, a few feet behind him. “Alex? Alex! What is it?” Alex shook his head, falling back until he could use the car as support, holding his right hand over the left side of his chest. His assailant obviously didn’t know what to do. “I’ll be okay,” Alex said, gasping. “Just let me sit down.” He slid along the hood of car to the front fender and sat down on it. In spite of his apparent distress he reached into his left pocket and took out a wad of bills. “Take it. It’s all I have,” he said to the man who had followed him to the car. Alex was still breathing heavily, right hand pressed to his chest. “For God’s sake, take the money and leave him alone,” Marguerite said. “Can’t you see he’s ill?” The man holding the knife to her throat nodded. “Take the goddamned money and let’s get out of here before we have a corpse on our hands.” The man with Alex stepped forward to take the money from Alex’s outstretched hand. As he touched the money Alex extended his left foot and hooked his toe behind the man’s right ankle. Alex lifted his right leg and placed the sole of his foot above the man’s right knee. He pushed with his right foot. The man, off balance, fell backwards to the ground, the knife flying from his hand. Even before the thief hit the ground Alex was back on his feet. He pulled on the gold buckle of his belt and the buckle came free. In Alex’s hand was the handle of a flexible, steel throwing knife that had been encased in the belt. Alex flipped the knife over and threw it at the man holding Marguerite. The knife entered the man’s shoulder. The wounded man’s eyes widened. He stood there, motionless, staring at the knife handle. Once Alex had thrown the knife he ignored the man he wounded. He turned back to the man he’d unbalanced who was now scrambling up from the ground. Alex put his foot on top of the man’s shoulder, forcing him back to the ground. As the man tried to turn and get leverage to stand up Alex picked up the man’s left hand. He placed the fingers of both his hands in the man’s palm, his thumbs over the small bones just above the man’s knuckles. Alex pressed his thumbs down hard into the back of the man’s hand. The man writhed in pain and started to curse. “Do be quiet,” Alex said, “or this could get to be very painful.” The man stopped moving. Alex looked at the wounded man. Except for his breathing he looked like a statue. “Maggie, be a good girl and pull my knife out of his shoulder.” Marguerite stared at him. She shook her head. “Come on, Maggie. Pull it out,” Alex said. “The man will thank you for it, won’t you, mon ami?” Marguerite looked at her assailant who wouldn’t move his head but did move his eyes sideward to look at her. Imperceptibly the man nodded. “Go ahead, Maggie. Do it. It’s not a really serious wound, but he is going to need a couple of stitches. Besides, he can’t go around with my knife in his shoulder all the time. I might have to charge him with robbery.” “I…can’t,” Marguerite said. “Of course you can. It’s no big deal. It’s not like he’s caught on a fishhook. There are no barbs on the blade. One quick tug and he can run off to the hospital. You’ll be doing him a favor, not that you owe him anything.” Marguerite looked at Alex, then at the knife handle. She licked her lips. In slow motion she extended her hand until she touched the knife. Still moving in half-time she closed her hand over the handle. With her eyes closed, lips shut tight, she pulled the knife out in one quick, jerky motion. Her eyes opened and she looked at the knife in her hand.

“Excellent, Maggie. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She didn’t answer him. Alex smiled. “It’s all over, my dear. I seem to remember we have some tissues in the car. Why don’t you get them and give our friend a few. Then he can run off to a hospital and get some medical attention.” Marguerite looked at the wounded man. He stood there, immobile, his right arm hanging down, still holding the open switchblade. Again he gave her an abbreviated nod. She went to the car. “The wages of sin, my boy,” Alex said, now looking at the man on the ground in front of him. Marguerite returned with some tissues and held them out to her assailant. As the wounded man reached for the tissues, he became aware of the knife in his other hand. He closed the knife against his leg, put it in his pocket, took the tissues and pressed them against his wound. He turned for a second, looked at Alex, then at his partner, and hurried away without a word. Alex looked down at the man before him who was still wincing from the pain of Alex’s grip. “You know, in some places in the world, when a man commits a robbery they hack off his hand,” Alex said to him. “I know that does sound a little barbaric. Why don’t I just break your arm? At least you’ll remember it. That wouldn’t be too bad, would it?” The man’s eyes widened. He shook his head and croaked something indistinguishable. “Yes, I suppose that would be painful,” Alex said. “But most lessons in life are painful, you know. Well, consider yourself lucky. I could just as easily have put that little piece of steel somewhere in your hide instead of your pal’s. So, what are we to do with you? What do you think, Maggie?” She spoke with difficulty. “Let him go.” “Couldn’t we take him home with us, as sort of a trophy?” he asked wistfully. ”No, I suppose not. Then we’d have to feed him. All right, pal, take off. And remember to put a few extra francs in the collection basket, thanks to this lady. If you go to church, of course.” He released the man’s hand and bent over to pick up the man’s open switch-blade knife lying on the pavement nearby. “You won’t need this. Now, allez! Scram.” The man came to his feet, looked around warily and hurried off. Alex smiled at Marguerite. “Well, that was an exhilarating little jolt of excitement. You weren’t hurt, were you?” “No, but you could have been killed!” Alex laughed and shook his head. “Not by them. They didn’t want to kill anyone. Bad for the tourist trade. Might force the police to crack down, temporarily. They’re just a couple of hit and run boys. Here, let me take that from you.” Marguerite looked at the throwing knife Alex took from her hand, her face almost blank. Alex walked to the car, pulled a few tissues from the box and wiped the blood off the knife. He slipped it back into his belt, took Marguerite’s elbow and led her back to the automobile. “You always have that with you?” Alex lifted his shoulders. “A carryover from a previous life. It’s been useful once or twice.” Marguerite stopped. “You were just faking it. There’s nothing wrong with your heart.” “I didn’t mean to frighten you with that little act, Maggie. The idea was to take their attention away from you. I didn’t like that guy holding his knife to your throat, even though I didn’t believe they had any intention of hurting either one of us. But one can never be sure, and I didn’t have all that much to work with. You were great, Mag.” Marguerite looked at him in disbelief. “I was too frightened even to move.” “That happens often, the first time one faces real danger. But you did do very well, my dear. No screams, no hysterics. That left me able to do what I had to do.” “I think I’m ready for a little hysterics right now.”

Alex put his arms around her, holding her close. “You’ll be fine.” His eyes narrowed as he held her, looking over her shoulder. “What we need now…” He began to smile. “You know what this kind of excitement does to me, Maggie?” Marguerite drew back to look at him, shaking her head. “It makes me feel…very sexy.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled her against him, then kissed her on the mouth, hard. After a few moments she jerked away, her eyes wide. “Not here? Not now?” “When I was younger we thought that’s why they made rear seats in automobiles,” Alex said. “Of course the convertible doesn’t have a rear seat.” Marguerite disentangled herself from his arms. “You’re out of your mind. Not on your life.” “Okay. Let’s go home, then.” He grinned. They’d just seated themselves in the car when Marguerite suddenly turned and looked at Alex. “You said ‘home’”. Alex nodded. Marguerite smiled as she drove away. They’d driven only a few minutes when Marguerite turned to look at him again, frowning. “A few seconds ago you said ‘All we need is a little…’ and then you stopped. What were you going to say?” “You don’t want to know.” “That’s like waving a red flag at me. Of course I want to know.” “I was going to say that what we really needed, just then, was a little divertissement.” Marguerite thought about it for a moment. Her face clouded with anger. “So that little speech about the excitement making you feel so sexy was just a ‘divertissement’, as you called it?” “Yes…and no.” He smiled at the stony look on her face. “Yes, it was a divertissement…a diversion. It took your mind off a frightening situation…so…no hysterics. And no, it was not just a diversion. It was an absolutely accurate, if understated, description of how I felt. And yes, I did think about the back seat of the car.” They drove for a few moments in silence, Margaret’s face expressionless. “You’re one calculating bastard,” she said finally. “I never know how to read you.” She turned her head to face him and broke into a broad smile. “But I think I’m really beginning to like you, anyway.” Well, he was a calculating bastard, he thought. He always liked to know what the stakes were and how things were liable to break. That’s what had kept him alive through sudden changes in government, competing tribal loyalties and battles over turf, politics or culture in the third-world countries where he’d worked for nearly two decades. At first he thought he’d left all that behind when he stopped being a mercenary. Now here he was, trapped in a spider’s nest of intrigue, again. But this time he wasn’t sure how the battle lines were drawn, and this time his personal feelings were involved. He knew there would be complications he couldn’t anticipate.

CHAPTER 17 – GETTING INVOLVED Eugenie was already at breakfast when Alex entered the dining room, the next morning. “Bonjour, Mama¢. It’s a beautiful day. And how are you feeling this morning?” Eugenie scowled. “I hate all this cheerfulness in the morning. Can’t you come down grumpy, like any sensible person before they’ve had their coffee?” “Too happy to be alive to be grumpy,” he said. “That’s because you’re young. At my age I start the day off with everything hurting. You’ll find out soon enough the pleasures of waking up with an old body…sore muscles, worn out joints, and aches in parts of your body you never knew you had. I don’t like all these infirmities.” She pushed her dishes away and picked up her coffee cup. “Marguerite has to take me for an eye examination this morning. My cataracts seem to be getting worse.” As though on cue, Marguerite came into the dining room. She walked to Eugenie and kissed her. “Good morning, Mama . And good morning to you, too, Alex. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Eugenie leaned forward and peered at both of them. “You two have that smug, conspiratorial cheerfulness of a pair of ruffians. That means you were up to something. When I was your age, if I walked around with a look like that they’d be checking my backside to see if there was any hay clinging to my clothes.” “Mama¢, I’m shocked. And I know why you’re pretending to be in such a bad humor this morning. It’s because you have to go for an eye examination again. You’re lucky. At least we have a car, now, that will get us there without breaking down.” Alex and Marguerite brought food from the sideboard and sat with Eugenie. “Alex, I’m afraid you can’t come with us,” Marguerite said. “We can’t stuff you in behind the seats.” She smiled. “It won’t be long. We’ll be only a few hours.” “I’m fine. I thought I’d take a walk through the area, look around a bit. Don’t worry about me.” “I won’t. I don’t think there’s anyone around who might attack you.” Alex and Marguerite exchanged glances and smiled. Eugenie looked at them with suspicion. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you two grinning like that?” “Oh, we ran into two muggers last night, after dinner, but Alex frightened them off.” Marguerite put her hand on her mother’s arm. “Now Mama¢, we have to leave about ten o’clock. Will you be ready? Do you need any help?” “Stop fussing over me,” the Duchess said, shrugging Marguerite off with her whole body. “You know it makes me irritable.” She stood up, took the cane that had been hanging behind her chair, and started towards the door. “Call me when it’s time to go to the doctor,” she said, and went out. As soon as Marguerite and Eugenie had driven off Alex picked up the phone and dialed. “Paul Duchasse, please. Paul? Finally. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reach you, but I’ve really been unable to call until now. I’ve always been with someone.” “I understand. How’s it going, Alex?” “Pretty much as we expected. Marguerite and the Duchess are out at the moment so I can talk.” “I’m glad you finally got through, Alex. We have to talk. How close are you, really?” “It’s hard to say. Am I mistaken or do I hear an undertone of worry in your voice?”

A hint of air movement, like the sound of a sigh, came through the phone. “You hear right, Alex. Whoever my uncle’s dealing with in Paris is putting the pressure on. My uncle said the Paris people call every day. A lot of money’s tied up in this. The head guy in Paris, LeBras, wants to start playing hardball. I think we’re talking days, now, not weeks or months.” “I don’t understand, Paul. It’s more than a year until the mortgage comes due.” “Technically correct,” Paul said. “But the people who want to build that road are forcing the issue. Whatever credibility you’ve established with those ladies, you’d better use it to persuade them to take the best offer they can get now, before the whole thing goes up. The Duchess and Marguerite could actually find themselves in physical danger." “Paul, the problem with speaking too soon is that they’ll see me as just another person putting pressure on them to sell the Chateau. We’re getting along fine right now, and I’ve established some measure of trust. If I press them, they’ll go into defensive mode and reject any advice I give. I know them. Especially the Duchess. She’ll try to tough it out.” “Yeah, I know. I thought about bringing you into this a little too late,” Paul said. “You should have had more time to build a relationship with them. If the folks up north decide to move on this, someone’s going to get hurt.” “Paul, you’re not giving me the same scenario I heard when I first talked to you and your uncle. The emphasis then was on helping these women out, saving them from their own folly. Suddenly there’s talk about some kind of physical danger to these women. I have a sense I’ve fallen into the wrong war.” “I know, I know,” Paul said. “But everything’s the same. We still want to get those two women out of the chateau while they can come away with a little money. The only thing different is that the time element has changed. State bureaucracy has become involved with this and we can’t control everything. It’s still the same story, Alex. By the way…” Alex frowned at the phone, waiting for Paul to continue. “A few minutes ago you said you thought you heard some worry in my voice.” “Yes, I did.” “Okay, now it’s my turn. Alex, are you getting involved with those two…Marguerite, specifically?” “Paul…you know me. We’ve talked enough about women together over the years. I’m still not ready to settle down.” “You were beginning to sound a little too interested.” “Relax, Paul. I like them. But nothing’s changed.” ‘Yet,’ he muttered to himself as he hung up. He took a small phone book from his pocket and dialed another number. “Operator, I want to make a person-to-person call. My name is Alex Beaumont. I’m calling Peter Arbitron.” It took a few seconds before he got through. “Peter? Alex. Yes, I’m still in France. Looks like it’s going to be a while. How are things going?” He listened for a moment. “Great. How long before we’ll know for sure?” He listened again. “Come on, Peter. ‘Anytime’ can be a lifetime. How much money are we talking about?” The voice at the other end of the phone went on for a minute or two. Alex whistled. “Okay, I’ll keep checking with you every two, three days because you can’t reach me. Thanks.” The phone call had been interesting. There were new things to think about. Alex left the Chateau for the walk he’d told Marguerite he was going to take. When Marguerite and Eugenie returned in the early afternoon they saw Alex working on the wooden door of the first of the four garage bays. Louis was at the edge of the door, holding it up for him as Alex screwed in the hinge. Alex looked up to see Eugenie in dark glasses walking up the stairs to the kitchen door.

“Louise,” Marguerite said when Louise opened the door, “the doctor put some drops in Mama¢s eyes. She’ll need a little help until the effect wears off. Will you take care of her, please?” Louise took charge of Eugenie and Marguerite walked back to the garage. She reached it just as Alex finished working on the hinge. “Okay, Louis, I think it’ll hold now,” Alex said. “Let go of the door.” When Louis released the door it hung without sagging. Alex opened and closed the door several times. Each time it moved smoothly into place. The men smiled at each other. “Thanks, Louis.” The older man nodded, saluted Marguerite and returned to the kitchen. “Pretty neat work for someone who doesn’t know anything about repairs,” Marguerite said, coming closer and looking at the door. Alex wiped his hands on a cloth. “The wood around the hinge just rotted away. That’s why the door wouldn’t hang right, or close. All I did was move the hinge. You don’t have to be a real carpenter to fix something like that.” He took Marguerite by the arm. They walked around the Chateau to the side of the house and sat on the low stone wall behind the garden. “So, how’s the Duchess?” Alex asked. “She’ll manage, for now. By next year she’ll probably need the cataracts removed. The government will take care of the surgery. That doesn’t worry me. But almost everyday it’s something else, now. I guess we’ve been lucky. It’s been all minor, thus far. But if something serious happens and I have to put her in some medical facility…. Alex looked around at the garden, the open fields and the border of trees. “In the short time I’ve been here I’ve become fond of this place. I hate to think it’s all going to end when the mortgage comes due. But nothing lasts forever. Right now you still have some equity in the Chateau. At this point no one could fault you for trying to get out with enough money to protect yourself against an accident like that.” Marguerite looked down at the ground. “I know you care about us and want to help, but in trying to protect her I’d be taking away her incentive to go on living. It would kill her. I just can’t do that, Alex.” Alex put his arm around Marguerite and she rested her head on his shoulders. They sat quietly, Alex staring into the distance. Suddenly he sat straighter. “Maggie, I just remembered. I have an errand to run. Do you mind?” “Of course not. I don’t need the car.” “Good.” He pushed himself off the low wall. “I have to go into St. Agate. I want to set up an account with your local bank. It will make life a lot easier if I don’t have to deal with money exchanges all the time.” Marguerite slid off the wall. “Monsieur DeVigny at the bank is a decent gentleman, even if he does hold all the mortgages on the Chateau. He’s really an old friend. I’m sure he’ll help.” “I won’t be long,” Alex said. ‘Marguerite doesn’t have a clue about what’s going on in the background,’ he thought as he headed for the car. Now he himself was getting involved. Risky business. Was he in too deep to get out?

CHAPTER 18 – LET’S TALK WITH THE ENEMY St. Agate has one principal street. It starts at the bridge over the gorge, runs the length of the little town, about a kilometer, and then becomes the road that traverses the plateau. On both sides of the street stores butt up against each other, from the bridge at the edge of the gorge to the exit onto the open road. The western side of the street is lined with brasseries (brewery/cafes) and restaurants. Tables, covered by umbrellas, cover the area from the buildings to the road. On the opposite side of the street a pharmacy, a boulangerie (bakery) with wood fired ovens, an epicerie (grocer), boucherie, (butcher shop), a fromagerie (cheese/dairy shop), a chocolate shop, a small fish market and half a dozen arts and crafts shops fill the length of the street. Stands of regional honeys, figs, almonds and local olive oils are displayed under awnings in front of some of the stores. The Banque Royale de St. Agate, the largest building in the little village, is in the center of the street. The two narrow windows of the bank flank a huge double door. The buildings in St.Agate are faced with weathered stone. They glow in the sun with soft tones of olive, lemon and tan, giving a medieval, 'old world' look to the village. Alex parked in front of the bank and looked up and down the street. The scene was rich in atmosphere and flavor. He liked especially the small balconies lined with flower pots on the upper levels of the buildings, the flowers poking through the iron work around them. It was altogether charming, he thought. Inside the bank, on the right, behind a low, wooden railing that defined the office area, a woman worked at a desk alongside the rail. She was not the same woman he’d seen on his previous visits. “I’d like to speak to Monsieur DeVigny,” Alex said. “My name is Alex Beaumont. I’m a friend of his nephew, Paul.” “Paul Duchasse?” she smiled. “Of course. One moment, please. I’ll let Monsieur DeVigny know you are here.” She called the bank executive on a private line and listened for instructions. “Monsieur DeVigny will be happy to see you,” she said when she hung up. “Please follow me.” They walked past the tellers’ cages to the rear of the bank. A door at the far end held a small plaque with DeVigny’s name on it. She knocked and opened the door, holding it for Alex. He entered and she closed the door behind him. Alain DeVigny had what the French call an ‘air distingue’. Alex admired the stylish elegance of the man. Straight hair, graying at the outer edges, a neat, trim figure, DeVigny was, clearly, a man of substance. His bearing would attract attention in any room. “Is there a problem, Alex” Alex sat in the chair in front of DeVigny’s desk. “I spoke to Paul earlier this afternoon. He feels a crisis is impending. Is that correct?” DeVigny nodded slowly, his face unhappy. “I think perhaps that crisis atmosphere can be turned around and made into something useful for us,” Alex said. DeVigny’s face brightened. “If you have any suggestions I’d like to hear them.” “Invite this man LeBras to come down here, as soon as possible, to meet with the Midignards.” Both DeVigny’s hands flew up, palms towards Alex. “Please, you don’t know what you’re saying.” “It does seem ridiculous, I know, but the way I understand it…in all these years they’ve never actually spoken together. Only if they meet face to face…instead of through third

parties…is there any chance they can work out a compromise. If LeBras wants the chateau and its land so badly, he can’t even think about using violence. Perhaps that’s incentive enough for him to find some way to compromise.” DeVigny was not convinced. “You know better than I do, Monsieur DeVigny, but from my perspective, any offer he makes has to be better than what Marguerite and the Duchess have to look forward to now.” Alex leaned forward and rested his arm on DeVigny’s desk. “If Paul is correct, if some kind of force is brewing, a meeting between the two of them is the only chance you have to avert a dangerous physical resolution.” The two men looked at each other in silence. Slowly DeVigny nodded his head. “You may be right, Alex. Sometimes an outside observer can see what those on the inside are too deeply involved to see. You know… the forest for the trees. The fact is, they never have spoken directly to each other. Most of the time I’ve been the intermediary.” DeVigny thought about it for a moment. “I, myself, don’t believe it will work,” he said. “I know the Duchess. There’s not much ‘give’ in her. And I know Gaston LeBras. He’s more stubborn than she is. But it’s better to try something than to sit by and watch this disaster without doing something to try to stop it. Very well, I’ll talk to him.” DeVigny picked up the phone. “Annette, get me LeBras in Paris.” He replaced the phone. “Perhaps that’s exactly what we need, Alex…a new point of view.” The two men sat without speaking until the intercom buzzed. DeVigny picked up the receiver and listened for a moment. “Thank you, Annette. Let me know as soon as he calls.” He put the phone back in the cradle. “LeBras is not in at the moment. But his secretary knows us. She’ll give him the message as soon as he gets in. He’s expected back in an hour or so. I hope I’ll be able to get back to you with something positive this afternoon.” “Thank you, Monsieur DeVigny,” Alex said, standing up. “I won’t say anything to the ladies until I hear from you.” DeVigny stood up too. “I’m glad you took the initiative and came here. A little hope is better than no hope at all. And Alex, I’m glad Paul suggested bringing you in. Things are going much better than I had expected they would, thanks to you.” Alex returned to the Chateau. The Duchess was napping and Marguerite and Louise were doing something in the kitchen. He went out to the garage and began poking about in a wooden box full of tools he’d noticed earlier in the day. For many years Alex had to be meticulous about the condition of the weapons and equipment he’d used almost every day. It bothered him, now, to see these tools…neglected, rusty, cutting edges chipped and dull. He found some rags, oil, and a can of what appeared to be kerosene. He emptied the tools on an old tarp, found a box to sit on and went to work, cleaning off the rust, filing the worn edges and restoring the tools to working condition. He was completely absorbed in the task and didn’t hear Marguerite until she banged on the lid of a large pan from the kitchen porch. He looked up. “There’s a phone call for you,” Marguerite called from the kitchen door. “It’s DeVigny, from the bank.” “I’ll be right there.” The kitchen was empty when Alex came in. He picked up the phone. “Monsieur DeVigny?” “Alex. I spoke to LeBras,” DeVigny said. “I’m surprised. I really didn’t expect him to agree. No matter. The point is…he’ll come. I’m picking him up at the airport tomorrow. Noon. We’ll be at my office by one p.m. Will you have them there?” “I haven’t spoken to them about it yet, Alex said, “but I think I can persuade Marguerite. I’ll leave the Duchess to her. If there are any problems, I’ll get back to you shortly.” “Don’t raise your hopes too high, Alex. LeBras may have agreed to come, but he really

doesn’t think it will work. He thinks the women are undisciplined and unrealistic. But he wants to end the impasse and he will talk with them. To me it means that things are beginning to come together up there. And perhaps he’s coming because he’s never really seen the plateau himself, only on maps. This trip will help him understand the area better. I’ll give him a quick tour before the meeting.” DeVigny sighed. “Perhaps he’s just talking tough. Once he sees the possibilities here, he may be willing to make some concessions to move things along.” “Anything can happen, Monsieur DeVigny,” Alex said. “One must have hope.” “I’m not counting on it, Alex. I know LeBras too well. But, as you say, perhaps something useful could come out of the meeting. I’m happy that we may be able to do something to help the Midignards.” After he hung up, Alex went outside and found Marguerite picking vegetables from the garden. A small wicker basket was nearly full with the onions, garlic, tomatoes, basil, thyme and lavender. “Maggie, can I talk to you a minute?” “Is something wrong?” Alex shook his head and smiled. “No, but I want to talk to you about an idea I have.” She followed Alex to the chairs under the tree. When they sat, Alex looked around the tranquil scene with obvious pleasure. “We used to have acres of vegetables and flower gardens back there behind the barn,” Marguerite said. “That’s when we had staff, of course. I put in this little garden at the side of the house. It’s easier for me to have it over here, close to the kitchen. And of course we don’t need that much any more.” “There’s something very satisfying about all this.” Alex waved his arm to take in the whole setting. “Even with the overgrown shrubs and uncut grass.” Impulsively Marguerite threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Alex grinned. “I must have said the right thing.” “You did. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?” “When I was at the bank, this morning, I spoke to Alain DeVigny. He told me the big shot from the transportation department in Paris, a man named Gaston LeBras, is coming into St. Agate tomorrow. He’s the one who’s putting pressure on DeVigny to get this road in across the plateau. I thought it might be useful if you and the Duchess were to talk with him.” “Alex. Are you mad? We have nothing to say to him.” “But of course you do.” Alex said. “I’ve been told you never actually met before. You’ve never even spoken to each other. That means anything’s possible. Look, Maggie…” He moved his chair closer to hers. “Up until now all you’ve ever heard is what other people have said…third parties. Even well intentioned people often make errors in communication. Not intentionally, perhaps, but somehow the message changes a little when it’s repeated. If this guy is really so hot to put his road in, perhaps he’d be willing to make some concessions, maybe even use his influence to get the bank to extend the mortgage. Alex took Marguerite’s hand. “If he could help mediate the problem he’d look like a hero. I don’t know that he’d do anything at all, but if you don’t try, you’ll never know. What’s the worst that could happen…that he won’t do anything? In that case you’re no worse off than you are now…but at least you will have tried. And there’s at least a little chance he might do something. Sure it’s a long shot, but you have nothing to lose. Isn’t it worth a try?” Marguerite’s face began to show signs of excitement. “You’re right, Alex. It is worth a try. We can’t just sit here and do nothing. We know where that will get us.” She stood up. “I’ll talk to Mama¢. I’ll make her come. You said he’ll be in tomorrow?” “One o’clock. At DeVigny’s office.” “You’ll come with us?” she said, putting her hand out, touching his arm.

‘If you want me to.” ‘Oh yes, please. I’ll need help with Mama . She’ll be cross, and stubborn. But she likes you. Between us we can get her to listen.” ‘She’d better listen,’ Alex said to himself.

CHAPTER 19--UNACCEPTABLE TERMS The next day Alex, Marguerite and Duchess Eugenie arrived at the bank at one o’clock. Marguerite drove the newly functioning Citroen, just returned to her. In the bank, Annette told them DeVigny and LeBras had arrived only minutes earlier and she ushered them into DeVigny’s office. The Duchess was annoyed and irritable. She looked around the room with a stony face as Alex helped her into a chair in front of DeVigny’s desk. DeVigny came over to kiss her hand, but even that didn’t soften the rigid set of her of her jaws. Alex and Marguerite flanked Eugenie. Gaston LeBras sat in a chair opposite them. Before the first word was said Alex knew they would have a difficult time. LeBras was of medium height, lean but not supple. His body moved with short, jerky motions. To Alex, this did not predict a man who was accustomed to being flexible. It worried Alex. “Duchess, I do appreciate your coming here on such short notice,” DeVigny said when he returned to his seat. “I know it was inconvenient.” “All right, all right. Let’s get on with it,” Eugenie said. “Of course, Duchess. But first, may I present Monsieur Gaston LeBras, Deputy Director, Department of Transportation for the southern region of France. Monsieur LeBras, this is Duchess Eugenie Midignard, her daughter Marguerite, and a friend, Monsieur Alex Beaumont.” LeBras’ nod was noncommittal. “Now that we are all together at last, let us see if we can find some common ground.” LeBras cleared his throat. “Forgive me if I lack some of the social graces. “DeVigny is a diplomat. I am not. I do have some virtues, however. I’m a man who gets things done. In the bureaucratic world, that is not insignificant.” LeBras looked at each of them with eyes that were as expressionless as pale blue ice cubes. “This meeting is none of my doing. Monsieur DeVigny persuaded me some good could come of it. I am here…reluctantly. My department has worked hard to develop this project. When it is completed, it will help the whole plateau. It will put St. Agate on the map.” “St. Agate already is on the map,” The Duchess snapped. “From a cartographer’s point of view you are correct,” LeBras said, unperturbed. “In the real world, things are different.” He sat straighter in his chair. “I know you would like to see things go along the way they always have. That’s not what the people in this region want.” LeBras clasped his hands on the table. “I commend you for your family’s many contributions to France, Duchess Midignard. You’ve seen many changes in your lifetime, but today everything…business, people, transportation…changes at a faster pace than we ever knew before. Most of us, especially those of us in government, have accepted those changes. We have no choice. That’s what society wants us to do.” The bureaucrat’s body relaxed a bit and his voice lost some of its cold inflexibility. He looked directly at the Duchess. “You think we don’t understand things like history and tradition. You think we’re cold, unfeeling, bureaucratic automatons. You’re wrong, Duchess Midignard. We do understand. We care for our country perhaps almost as much as you do. But we serve different masters…or, more accurately…masters from different centuries.” Eugenie made a derisive sound. “I know you dislike me,” LeBras said. He shrugged. “Regrettable, but unimportant. It does not affect my job.” He paused for a moment. “Duchess, you are one of the survivors of the old aristocracy. Everything up here was once your private property. Your family gave much to France. Unfortunately those days are gone forever.” His tone changed again and now he spoke with crisp authority. “Today we have a world

of constant growth…development of new industries, instant communication and rapid transportation of products. What was good for our country only a decade ago is not got good for it today. We would not be doing our duty if we allowed you to stand in the way of that progress because you want to hold on to a dying vision.” Eugenie glared at LeBras and struggled to stand. Marguerite put her hand on her mother’s arm, but Eugenie pushed it away. “What insufferable nonsense!” She looked at LeBras with contempt. “The revolution’s dead, Monsieur. The guillotine is back in the closet. The Midignards have always done what’s good for France. We’ve shed blood for our country.” “Calm yourself, Mama¢,” Marguerite said, keeping her mother from getting up. “Monsieur LeBras, we came here in good faith, to see if we could mediate this conflict.” “Of course,” DeVigny said, flustered. “That’s what we talked about. We have a common objective, to work out a way both parties can get what they want.” Alex noted that LeBras had resumed his rigid posture. “I haven’t said one word that is not true, Duchess. The government has spent a lot of time and money on this project. Everything’s ready…surveyors, earthmovers, bulldozers, scrapers, concrete, and steel…everything we need to move ahead. There are hundreds of workers who have a stake in this” “I have a stake in what happens up here,” the Duchess said. “Of course you do. I understand that. You’ve lived in the Chateau a long time. You don’t want to leave. That’s natural. But this is not just a difference of opinion between you and the Department of Transportation. The whole region is involved. We have no choice.” “Do you believe I am the only one in the region who feels like this?” Duchess Eugenie asked in a cold voice. “It doesn’t matter.” LeBras made a sound that could have been a sigh. “Once the project is developed, once all the restaurants are filled, once the stores that are now empty are suddenly crowded…the same people who pledge you their loyalty today will not look you in the eye after they sell their property tomorrow. They’ll be too busy counting their money.” LeBras grimaced. “Everyone who owns a piece of land here on the plateau will be able to sell it for five, ten times what it’s worth today. They won’t become millionaires, but they won’t have to work anymore for the rest of their lives if they don’t want to.” “Money is not all that counts!” Alex, who had been watching LeBras closely, was surprised again. There was a look of almost sad resignation on LeBras’ face. “You’re wrong, Duchess,” he said. “It’s practically the only thing that does count.” His eyes met hers. “I live with problems like this every day of the week. I see the nice, sweet, innocent people…like you…matched against the big bad wolves…the developers, the builders, the financiers. And I see the nice, sweet, innocent people lose every time. The builders, the developers, financiers…they win every time.” A smile barely touched his lips. “I know what you’re thinking…the graft, the corruption, the deals…‘They got to him’… You know what, Duchess…from your point of view…you’re right.” Everyone in the room stared at LeBras. LeBras laughed, short and humorless. “You think graft and corruption and pay-offs are limited to this project? Nothing gets done anywhere without someone profiting from it. I’m just one cog in the wheel. I have a boss, and my boss has a boss, and the higher up you go the more the important people convince themselves that they are doing things only for the good of the country. That’s why they hire people like me. That’s the way things work.” He shook his head. “I know you think I’m terrible. Let me tell you a hard truth. The man who’s panting to take my job is a lot worse. At least I try to limit the damage. As for your friends, the nice people who live up here…a few million francs will buy any one of them. It’s nothing evil. There’s no crookedness. Just give them ten times what their land is worth. “My dear Duchess…the reality of the world overwhelms sentiment every time. “Beauty is

truth, truth beauty,--That is all you know on earth, and all you need to know.” LeBras shook his head. “Keats didn’t know about commerce.” LeBras’ whole demeanor changed. “You are entitled to fair compensation for the Chateau and the remaining lands, Duchess. By law we have to pay it, and we will. Unfortunately for you, the Chateau is so heavily mortgaged that most of that money will by-pass you to pay off the loans. We sympathize, but we did not create that situation. We’ll do the best we can. While it won’t be very much, it will be better than the total loss you will have if you run to the end of the mortgage.” His face was grim. “Those are our terms, Duchess. I wish they could be otherwise. If it was just between you and me...” He shrugged. “At this point you have no room to negotiate. I came because I wanted to make that clear to you. Both the road and the development of this plateau are going through.” “You were right, Mama¢. We should never have come,” Marguerite said, forestalling and outburst from her mother. She helped the Duchess stand and then turned to DeVigny. “You’ve been kind to us in the past. I know this is none of your doing. I’m sorry for you. You have to work with such bloodless bureaucrats.” She put her arm around Eugenie’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Mama¢. We’re going. Alex, take us home.” DeVigny walked them towards the door, apologizing, trying to make amends. Alex said nothing. Now he understood DeVigny’s pessimism.

CHAPTER 20—AN UNEXPECTED CHALLENGE Alex and Marguerite worked together at the side of the house, the next morning. Marguerite was in the vegetable garden; Alex was on a ladder sawing off some of the lower branches of the tree that shaded the table and chairs. They both looked up when they heard a car coming down the lane to the Chateau. Marguerite frowned and walked to the corner of the house. She saw the car speed into the courtyard and dip forward in a hard stop. “Alex…it’s Sandy.” Alex jumped off the ladder. “Tell her I’m not here. Tell her I went for a long walk.” He put the saw on the ground and loped towards the back of the house. Marguerite smiled and went through the house to the front door. Sandy was sitting in the convertible, looking in her mirror as she applied a touch of lipstick. When Marguerite stopped at the edge of the terrace Sandy put her lipstick away. “Hi, dear,” Sandy said. “I was at Marie Levrier’s this morning. She’s working with me on the flower show. After I left Marie I thought…I’m so close, I’ll pop in and say hello. By the way, I saw you and the Duchess drive by in your new little red car, yesterday. Has the Duchess gone mod with those new frames at this stage of her life?" Marguerite shook her head. “She’s just had an eye exam. They gave her the dark glasses to protect her from glare until her pupils returned to normal.” “Is there something wrong with her eyes?” “Normal aging. She has cataracts, but it’s premature to do anything about them at this stage. She’s still managing. How nice to see you again so soon, Sandy. Not all that usual anymore.” Sandy came out of the car and stood beside the driver’s door. “Well, actually I came to see Alex.” “Well, actually he’s not here right now,” Marguerite said. “He wanted to get to know the countryside and went for a walk around the area. I don’t know when he’ll be back.” “Perhaps that’s just as well. I really wanted to talk to you… about Alex.” “Oh? Sandy walked around the car and leaned against it as she spoke to Marguerite. “I know Alex is a guest in your house and you two must be quite…familiar… since he gave you a car. And I know there are rules of protocol about poaching in someone else’s territory. But I’ve taken an interest in Alex and I plan to see more of him.” She shrugged. “They say all’s fair in love and war. I thought it would be more fun if you knew.” “Thanks for the warning.” Marguerite looked at Sandy and nodded. “You have a lot going for you, Sandy, and I know every female around here stays out of your way. But this time you may be surprised. I think Alex prefers the simple type.” Sandy patted her hair. “He seems to have started out that way. But you know what they say, dear. After they’ve seen Pareee.” She turned and went back behind the wheel of the car. “Do tell Alex I called.” Alex had not left the Chateau grounds. When he heard Sandy’s car roar away he came out to meet Marguerite. “Short visit. You told Sandy I wasn’t here?” “Yes. But she really came to see me. A challenge, really.” His eyes queried her. Marguerite smiled. “To the death. You’re the prize. She wants to take you away from me.” “She’s crazy.” “Oh, I don’t know.” Marguerite pushed her hip out to the side and mimicked Sandy patting her hair. “After they see Pareee, us little farm girls don’t stand a chance.”

They laughed and Alex pulled Marguerite close. “Poor Sandy, she has a lot to learn.”

CHAPTER 21 – SANDY LEARNS THE TRUTH Sandy left the Chateau and drove into St. Agate at her usual rapid clip. She brought her car to her trademark hard stop in front of Bank Royale. Inside, Sandy breezed through to DeVigny’s office without looking at Annette or anyone else in the bank. Her knock on DeVigny’s door was perfunctory. She went in without waiting for an answer. DeVigny was seated at his desk, talking to one of the male bank staff. Sandy went around the desk to DeVigny, leaned over, kissed him on the cheek and plopped herself into the chair beside the desk. The bank worker bowed to Sandy, backed a few steps and left, “Melisande. How is my favorite Goddaughter?” DeVigny smiled at her. Sandy leaned back in the chair. “Never better, Alain. I’ll tell you why in a moment, but first…I had a call from the Deputy Director of some Department or other in Paris, last night. Apparently he knows I’m part of the group invested with your bank in this development thing…getting the land for the new road. He wanted to know if I could do anything to get you to move it along faster. The man was rude, he hinted at all kinds of ‘unforeseen consequences’, whatever that means. What does it mean?” “Nothing we can do anything about, my dear,” DeVigny said. “The people in Paris are running out of patience. The man we counted on to help us has not been able to do anything positive yet, although he is making progress. He really hasn’t had enough time. It’s a very difficult situation, as you know.” “I do wish they wouldn’t call me. I’m not interested in such things. But talking about men, Alain…I think I may have found someone I could get serious about.” DeVigny was surprised. “After all the others who haven’t met your standards?” “This one’s different…attractive, intelligent, charming, very much a man, but he doesn’t come on with all that exaggerated Gallic masculinity. “It’s a pleasure to hear you talk this way. I’ll look forward to meeting him.” “Well, not quite yet, Alain. The fact is…he’s attached to someone else, sort of. He’s staying at the Midignards. He’s one of the clients Marguerite picked up from Monsieur Gabriel at the Casino. Somehow she got him to stay at the Chateau, which is a small miracle in itself. Obviously they’ve been…intimate, but that doesn’t mean anything. She’s needed a new car desperately for a long time. He gave her one as a gift, so apparently he’s quite rich.” Sandy stared out the window. With her back to him she couldn’t observe the change that swept over DeVigny’s face as she spoke. When she turned from the window she saw the look on DeVigny’s face. “Alain, what’s wrong?” “He’s rich, all right. With our money. Melisande…you’re making a terrible mistake. Stay away from Alex Beaumont.” “You know Alex?” DeVigny sighed. “Apparently you don’t remember. I contacted all our investors about him.” “About Alex? Why?” “Think back, Melisande. I’m sure you’ll recall… I spoke to you about the idea my nephew Paul, had…to approach the Midignards from a different angle. From the inside, so to speak.” DeVigny spoke patiently, deliberately keeping his tone neutral. “I told about Paul’s friend…a fellow mercenary he’s known for a dozen years. Handsome, speaks French fluently. Alex Beaumont. Our plan was to bring him here, convince Monsieur Gabriel he was a millionaire, and, through Gabriel, have him meet Marguerite. “Once he was accepted by Marguerite and the Duchess, he was to persuade them to change their mind about the Chateau.” DeVigny sighed. “I did go over it with all of you.

Surely you remember that?” “Merde! Merde! Merde!” Sandy jumped up, her face stormy. “Calm down, Melisande. As you can see, he is on the inside, close to them, doing exactly what we wanted. So you mustn’t do anything to upset that relationship. It’s the only chance we have to close this thing before our friends up north lose patience and resort to other means of forcing the issue.” “I hate them. All of them.” Sandy said. “That old witch, with her holier-than-thou attitude, and Marguerite, pretending to sacrifice herself for her poor old mother. I don’t know why the people around here tolerate her. She’s nothing but a whore.” DeVigny came out of his chair. “You mustn’t talk like that.” You’re letting your emotions run away with you.” His voice lost its sharp tone. “Most of the people in St.Agate and on the plateau like the Duchess and Marguerite. Many admire them, and that includes me. I beg you to be careful about what you say. People will be offended.” “And Alex…pretending to be a millionaire,” Sandy went on as though she hadn’t heard any of what DeVigny said. “With my money. No wonder he was so cool.” She stopped. “He wouldn’t get close to me. I had him alone on the boat and that sonofabitch actually turned me down.” Her head jerked up. “I thought it was me. He turned me down because he was afraid I’d find out his background. He knew I’d tear him apart when I did. And I will!” “Melisande. You’re having a tantrum.” DeVigny walked around the desk to her. “Stop it right now.” Sandy struggled to regain composure. Her face settled into a frozen expression. “That’s better,” DeVigny said, relieved. He pressed her back down into the chair. “Melisande, listen to me. We’ve all risked a great deal of money on this so we all have a serious interest in it. Time is very important. It’s a long shot, but Alex has inveigled himself into their confidence. It will save us a great deal of trouble if he can get them to leave now, voluntarily. There is a good chance he may be able to do it.” “He’d better,” Sandy said, only slightly mollified. “The old witch has cataracts. If anything happens they’ll have to stay there until the last day.” “I’m sure Beaumont will use that information to move things along. I have confidence in him. He’s doing better than any of us imagined he would.” Sandy came up out of the chair, still angry but under more control. “And Marguerite is driving around in a car that was paid for with my money,” she said. “Mon dieu. I won’t be able to look her in the face again without wanting to scratch her eyes out.” “Well, don’t. Melisande. Our families have been friends for a dozen generations. Everyone in our group is someone we know personally. Don’t jeopardize the financial success of this venture out of personal pique or you’ll find yourself with more enemies than even you can handle. Restrain yourself. It’s only for a little while longer.” He led her to the door. “Thank you, Godfather,” Sandy said, taking Devigny’s hand. “It was a shock and I needed to vent my feelings. I’ll be all right, now.” “I’m sorry to have had to give you this news, my dear, but it’s better to know it now than to find out about it after you’ve become more emotionally involved with him.” Sandy nodded, gave DeVigny a mechanical smile and went out the door. Outside the bank she sat in her convertible, hands on the wheel, unable to move. Her whole body was taut. Conflicting emotions washed over her in waves. She could feel the muscles in her face twitch as anger pulsed through her whole body. Sandy turned her head to look at the bank. Her mouth tightened and her jaws became rigid. She looked down at her hands on the wheel. Her knuckles were white. Sandy glared at the bank. “To hell with you,” she said aloud. “All of you.” Sandy started the car and slammed the gearshift into reverse. She backed up without looking, barely avoiding an accident. Once in the road she sped away up the street.

CHAPTER 22 – SHE SPILLS THE BEANS Alex was having coffee in the kitchen of the Chateau with Marguerite when they heard a car roaring down the road towards the Chateau. It screeched to a stop in front of the terrace. “I don’t believe it,” Marguerite said. “It’s Sandy again.” Alex looked at her with raised eyebrows. Marguerite shrugged. “I know the way she drives.” “I guess I can’t be ‘out’ again.” Alex grimaced. “Let’s go talk to her.” They went to the front door and opened it. Sandy sat in the car, looking straight ahead. When she heard the door open she turned and looked at them. “Well, well, well. I have the millionaire himself. And his mate. How fortunate.” Alex and Marguerite queried each other silently, then walked slowly across the patio towards the car. Sandy didn’t get out of the car but turned to face them. “Marguerite, I can’t believe I made such an ass of myself this morning,” she said. “You must forgive me for that, my dear. Of course I didn’t know then what I know now.” She gave Marguerite an icy smile. “You’ve won. I relinquish the field. He’s all yours. You can have him, with all his fake millions and that little red car…and the cozy little arrangement he has with Alain DeVigny at the bank.” Sandy switched her gaze to Alex, malice and triumph mingling on her face. “Isn’t that right, Alex dear?” Alex stared at her, his face emotionless. Marguerite was confused and a little frightened. “What are you talking about, Sandy?” “Why don’t you ask your millionaire friend over there? I’d love to hear his explanation.” She looked at Alex, her face twisted in an ugly smile. “Tell her, Alex.” “Tell me what?” Marguerite said, but her eyes locked on Alex now like a bird hypnotized with fright. “Alex, what is it?” “I think you’d better leave, Sandy,” Alex said. “And miss all the fun.” Alex’s voice was icy cold. “There might be more fun here than you can handle.” “Alex, for God’s sake, what’s going on? What did she mean?” Alex didn’t respond to Marguerite’s plea but continued staring at Sandy, who finally averted her eyes. She turned and started the car. “Well, that’s my little good deed for the day,” Sandy said. “I’m sure you two will have lots to talk about now.” Her tires left rubber marks on the cobble stones as she gunned the car around the fountain in a tight curve and roared up the lane. “Let’s go out back.” Alex said to Marguerite. “We have to talk.” Marguerite, her body sagging, followed him without a word. By the time they came out the door to the garden Marguerite’s posture had changed. Her head and shoulders were up. She walked to the table near the tree, turned and faced Alex. “Is it true?” “Not the way you’re saying it,” Alex said, his face showing no emotion. Marguerite turned away, facing the low stone wall, her back to Alex. “My God, I’ve been such a fool. I can’t believe I fell for it. I even fell for you.” She turned around to face Alex. Her eyes were shiny. “That was a rotten thing to do, Alex. I thought you were a better man than that.” Alex took a tentative step towards Marguerite. “Don’t,” she said. “You’d better leave. Right now.” “Maggie, please. Let me explain.” He saw the loathing in her eyes and stopped.

“Just go,” she said. “I can’t stand having you near me. And take your goddamned car with you.” She whirled around again, her back towards him. Alex stood there, unwilling to accept the impasse. It was as though they were frozen in time. Slowly he turned and walked towards the stairs leading to the Chateau.

CHAPTER 23 – PASSION OVER PRUDENCE DeVigny was at his desk when Annette brought Alex to his office. “Alex.” His smile of greeting vanished. “We didn’t have a chance with LeBras. I know him, but I thought perhaps your enthusiasm….” Alex slumped into the chair at DeVigny’s desk. “It doesn’t matter, now. Marguerite knows about me.” “How can that be? We didn’t tell a soul outside of this office.” “Melisande Villeneuve knew,” Alex said. “She stopped off at the Chateau only an hour ago and dumped it all on Marguerite.” “I can’t believe she would be so foolish.” DeVigny shook his head. “I should have known. With Melisande…sex, the conquest, the short-term victory over the long term gain…they come before everything else.” “Obviously you know Miss Villeneuve.” “Not only is she my goddaughter,” DeVigny said, “but she is also one of the investors from whom I had to get permission to hire you. She didn’t pay attention when I first asked her about hiring a special person. And of course she quickly forgot about it. She came in this morning, full of spirit, to tell me she had finally found someone she liked…you…I had to tell her, Alex. She was furious.” “But if she’s one of your investors--she had nothing to gain by telling Marguerite about me. Why would she deliberately upset the apple cart?” “The money means nothing to her,” DeVigny said. “It’s the personal issues.” He walked up and back behind his desk, shaking his head. “Her heart and her body guide her actions, not her mind. For Melisande, passion, the momentary satisfaction of a conquest…that’s what counts. I cautioned her not to…upset the apple cart, as you say. When she found out who you really were, it sent her into a rage. It was a blow to her ego. To be underdog to Marguerite… I’ve been her confidante ever since she was a little girl and I can’t remember when another female ever bested Melisande.” “There was so much at stake… It’s hard to understand.” DeVigny nodded. “I was counting on the fact that Melisande is, after all, French. I thought she would think about the money first, but this is the first time she’s ever considered opening herself up to someone. This was too much for her to bear. She had to strike back.” “That’s great. Now both Melisande and Marguerite think I’m a traitor,” Alex said. “I’m not quite sure how that happened, but whatever the reasons, I’m no longer of any use to you.” Alex looked out the window for a moment. “It really was a good idea to bring me in. Given enough time, I think it would have worked, if only because I myself became convinced it was the best thing for Marguerite and her mother. Not quite the way you thought about it, perhaps…” He looked back at DeVigny. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out. The truth is, I’m sorry more for their sake than for yours. I’ve grown…fond of them.” “Both of them?” DeVigny smiled. “Marguerite’s an exceptional girl. I’d do anything to help, but right now my finances are tied up.” “Don’t even think of it!” DeVigny waved his hand for emphasis. “They’re in a financial morass that would swallow up any funds you might have and leave no trace. It would take a real millionaire to rescue them.” “Well, I’m not a real millionaire at the moment,” Alex said. “I want to find Paul, see if he can put me up for a while. Maybe I can find some way to help.” “I’ll do the best I can to ease the situation,” DeVigny said. “I, too, care for them. In spite

of my position at the bank, I really am their friend. Thank you for trying to help, Alex. See Annette, outside. She can tell you how to find Paul. He wants to see you.” ‘And I want to see Paul,’ Alex thought. ‘This isn’t over yet.’

CHAPTER 24 – THE FAT LADY HASN’T SUNG YET Annette’s instructions for locating Paul were clear and accurate. He drove almost a hundred kilometers to find him in Olivia’s Place, a café/restaurant just off the water in St. Tropez. They sat together in one of the wooden booths inside the restaurant. “It must be three months since I dumped you off at the hospital,” Alex said. “You look as good as new.” “I’ll never be as good as new again, Alex. I’ve had too many holes punched into my carcass. If you didn’t carry me out of that jungle I’d still be there, food for the ants and beetles.” Alex nodded. “After I left you at the hospital I thought about it. I realized that the world had changed for me, too. What I was doing was no longer fun. It was just work. Even the danger didn’t excite me anymore. It was part of the job, now. It didn’t give me the same rush.” He shrugged. “Most of my friends were gone...including you. I’d been thinking about it, on and off, for some time. When you were hit…I didn’t have any reason for staying.” Paul stared at him. “You stayed because of me?” “Don’t make a big deal out of it. I had to have somebody to talk to.” “I’ll be damned. I really owe you one.” “Knock it off. You’ve saved my tail plenty of times. But tell me, how did an old war-horse like you become so sedentary? A banker?” Paul turned his head. Opposite them a long bar ran the width of the room. At the end of the bar, swinging half doors led to the kitchen. A statuesque brunette with a full bosom and a narrow waist was talking on the phone behind the bar, near the cash register. Paul looked at her and grinned. “It ain’t all that bad,” he said. “What happened?” “After you visited me in the hospital I had time to think. I knew I was pretty much finished with that life. Too many bullet holes and knife scars. I knew I couldn’t do that kind of macho stuff again. You may not remember, but I told you that in the letter I wrote you from the hospital. So I came out here to find my uncle. I figured I could mooch something out of him while I looked around. But I never got to the bank. At least not then.” “You found Olivia?” “I had plenty of time when I got out of the hospital. I was in no hurry. From Marseilles I drove up the coast towards St. Agate. When I stopped off in St. Tropez for something to eat, I saw the sign, Olivia’s Place. My grandmother’s name was Olivia, and she was a great cook, so I went in. Best thing I ever did in my life.” “You went in, took one look at Olivia and fell in love.” Paul looked down at the table. “I know I’ve said that before.” “Dozens of times.” “C’mon, Alex. We all did the same thing when we could get out of those hell holes for a night…drink and go to bed with a pretty girl. Or any girl. But this was different. I took one look at Olivia and it was love at first sight…for both of us.” “Just kidding, Paul. I’m happy for you. It makes sense. An old war-horse like you who survived all those years on field rations, flies, and chlorinated water…what else would he do but find himself a beautiful girl with a restaurant?” “C’mon, Alex…you know me. I have no trade. Shit, I’ve never done an honest day’s work in my life. About the only skill I have is I can drop a guy at three hundred yards without a telescope on my gun.” He grunted. “Useful in some places we’ve been, but not much of a qualification for civilian life.”

“I’m not knocking it, Paul. After the life we’ve had, a restaurant’s a beautiful place to settle down, especially here.” Paul shook his head. “It was Olivia who pressed me to go to my uncle. She doesn’t want me to hang around the restaurant all the time and become the town drunk.” ”Smart girl. Well, you’re settled, anyway. Now I have to find a place to stay for a while.” “Not to worry. I told Olivia about it. She’ll find a place for you. She knows everyone within a hundred kilometers. Her family’s owned this place for four generations. If there’s anything available around here, Olivia will find it. At worst you can move in with Olivia and me for a night or two while we scout the area.” “Oh, Olivia’d love that.” Paul’s face reddened. “Hey, I said ‘a night or two.’ We can handle that.” Alex put his knife and fork on his empty plate. “You were right about the food, Paul. That fish…rouget? That’s about the best I’ve ever had. And that soup…pistou? I haven’t had anything like that for a long time.” “I told you, Alex,” Paul smiled proudly. “Olivia’s Place is one of the best kept secrets on the coast. And she wants to keep it that way. She doesn’t advertise, which keeps the tourist traffic down. That way she can take care of her friends, which means all the old families in this part of the world. If they come to St. Tropez, they come in here.” They both looked across the room. Olivia had Greco-Roman features with a wide mouth, given to smiling frequently. While they looked at her she put the phone down and took off her apron. Underneath the apron she was wearing shorts and a tight bodice that emphasized her figure. Alex could see Paul’s eyes light up. She came out from behind the bar and walked over to them. “I hope you boys have had enough time to catch up, because I have a place for you, Alex. One of my friends is leaving on vacation tomorrow morning. She’ll be gone three weeks. You can have her apartment until she returns. She lives only a kilometer from here. Let’s go take a look” As they walked towards the door, Paul tapped Alex on the shoulder. “Ever get in touch with your guy in New York…the investor you told me about?” “He wasn’t in. I left word. Until he calls me back I’m not officially a pauper.” “So what do you plan to do?” Paul asked as they got into Olivia’s car. “The fat lady hasn’t sung yet,” Alex said. “I have a few ideas.”

CHAPTER 25 – TIME RUNS OUT Alex was awakened from sleep in the apartment Olivia found for him. Someone was knocking on the front door, loudly and insistently. He woke instantly, his eyes wide open. The luminous dial on his wristwatch showed it was past midnight. He walked through the dark apartment to the door. Paul stood in the hallway. “Where the hell have you been? Paul said. “I’ve been trying to reach you since this afternoon. Nobody knew where you went.” Alex held the door open wider for Paul to come in. “I took a drive down to Grasse, looked at some of the arts and crafts shops, stopped in at a few galleries. Had dinner out. When I got back to Olivia’s Place she was busy. You weren’t around. I had a drink and then came up to bed. What’s up?” Paul dropped into an armchair in the living room. “Trouble. The bad guys are taking over. My uncle got a call this afternoon. The people up north have decided not to wait any longer. They want to move things along, so they’re going to force some kind of action. They sent a crew out from Paris this afternoon. Too late for them to do anything today. Tomorrow they’ll probably scout the place, then hit it tomorrow night.” “Does your uncle have any idea what they’re going to do?” Paul shook his head. “My guess is they’ll torch the place. It’s the easiest thing to do. If that happens, someone’s going to get hurt. They probably have orders to make sure the women get out safely, but you know how those things go, Alex. Too easy for someone to screw up. You have to get Marguerite and the Duchess out of there pronto.” “Won’t work.” Alex shook his head.” “You have to understand the Duchess. If we tell her what’s happening, she’ll take down her husband’s shotgun and blast away. Worst possible thing to do, but she doesn’t know anything about the kind of people they must have hired. “Marguerite might try to get the Duchess out, but she’s so sick and tired of the whole thing she might decide it’s better to go down fighting than run. They’re both stubborn as mules. No, that’s the kind of job I have to do. Who’s the ‘they’ you’re talking about?” Paul jerked upright in his chair. “You say I don’t understand the women. You’re the one who doesn’t understand the situation.” “Okay, Paul, explain the situation. I’ve been waiting for someone to tell me more than that they’re just trying to protect the Duchess and Marguerite.” “You’re right, Alex. I wanted to tell you everything, but my uncle imposed that condition on me. It was the only way I could get the money for you to come here and play the role we prepared for you. I apologize for that. I should have known better.” Paul moved around in the chair, uncomfortable under Alex’s steady gaze. “What’s involved here is money, pal. A lot of money. A real lot of money.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “It’s not just the road. There’s big pressure on LeBras from the technology companies. They need to find more space, move into a fresh new area with newer, better amenities and better infrastructure. They’re the same kind of people who built Sophia Antipolis, but they’ve learned from it. A newer, better, bigger high tech area in St. Agate is going to bring in millions, billions. All kinds of new businesses…” “I already know that, Paul.” “You still don’t get it,” Paul said, exasperated. “The big companies are doing a PR job on the local people, and the locals are starting to bend. They’re beginning to understand how much money will pour into this community if they go for it. Everyone will make money, property values will rise... LeBras and his crowd don’t give a hoot about helping St. Agate. With them it’s just greed, a chance to make money. Paul looked at Alex’s puzzled expression.

“Yeah, you’re just as innocent as I was. How does LeBras benefit from this? He’s not involved with the potential boom in Real Estate, right? Think about it, Alex. What does putting in a road involve? Surveyors, scrapers and graders, those monster trucks that haul dirt, and concrete…zillions of tons of concrete…and the workers who have to run the heavy equipment, drive the trucks, pour and level the concrete, make the goddamned road signs and stripe the road. And lots more I don’t know anything about. Okay…what do they all have in common?” Alex nodded. “Every contractor has to pay off LeBras and his bosses somewhere along the way. And every worker, who pays union dues, has to come through the union, which is where LeBras has his roots.” “You got it,” Paul said, his mouth twisted in a sour expression. “Okay, I understand all that, Paul. But if LeBras has sent down a bunch of goons to frighten the women and burn the Chateau…isn’t that illegal? Can’t we get the local police to stop it?” “For a smart guy you’re as thick as wood. Who are the ladies going to complain to…the local police? The ‘police’ in St. Agate is a one man operation…one man who also has to cover half a dozen other little towns. The regional police? You can be sure LeBras and his people have warned them all off, and paid them off.” Paul grunted. “I don’t know why the rush. Maybe they want to get as much done as they can before next winter comes. Maybe the various contractors have cut-off dates. I don’t think even my uncle knows for sure why they don’t want to wait until the Midignard lease runs out. It’s not that long a time. But that’s the situation. “The men LeBras’s sending in must be pros, from out of town. He wouldn’t take a chance on recruiting local people.” “You’re right,” Paul said. “The local people may be getting greedy, but there are hundreds of years of tradition in their bones. They’d never burn the Duchess out. These guys will be in and out before anyone knows what’s going on.” He shook his head. “Face it, my friend. There’s nothing you can do. Just get the women out before anything happens.” Alex didn’t say anything immediately. He turned, walked to the window and stood there, looking out into the night. “Okay,” he said at last, coming back to where Paul was sitting. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it.” “Handle it my ass. Stay out of it, Alex. I mean it. Even if you stop them this time there’ll be a lot more coming the next time. There’s too much involved. Stop the infantry and the next time they’ll send in armor.” “Paul, thanks. You’ve been a big help just by warning me. That’s the best thing you could have done. I know you can’t get involved in this so forget the whole thing, unless you learn something else I ought to know. There’s no answering machine here so if anything else comes up, leave a message with Olivia. I’ll check with her from time to time. Thanks again.” “You’re a crazy sonofabitch, you know that, Alex? You’re the guy who always checks everything out before he goes into action. I’m the jerk who goes charging in without looking. Remember? This one’s different, Alex. You’re going up against a group you don’t know, in unfamiliar territory, and no friendly locals. Don’t get in over your head.” Alex didn’t respond. Paul shook his head and shrugged. “Okay, count me in,” Paul said, standing up. “What do you want me to do?” “Not this time.” Alex smiled and put an over Paul’s shoulder. “I’m flying solo.” Casually he steered Paul towards the door. “Don’t worry about it, Paul, really. It will all work out.” “Yeah, sure.” Paul stopped when Alex opened the door. “Be careful, Alex. This isn’t your kind of war.” Alex nodded. Paul stood there for a second then waved and went out the door.

CHAPTER 26 – THE WRECKING CREW GETS A SURPRISE It had been dark for some time when Alex drove the red car past the Chateau and turned off onto a narrow dirt road. He switched off his lights and drove far enough into the trees so that the car was completely hidden. Alex got out of the car, went to the passenger side and took out a pair of belts. One belt held a knife in a sheath; the other held a piece of equipment like a portable phone. He fastened both belts around his waist. Alex was dressed in black sneakers, trousers and T-shirt. His face and hands were daubed with black so he was nearly invisible in the dark. He crossed the dirt road and moved through the trees until he reached the edge of the Midignard property. The Chateau was visible in the light of a half-moon. There were no lights on in the building. Alex made a wide circle of the Chateau, staying in the cover of the trees. When he came to the back of the Chateau he saw lights on in the kitchen and in the drawing room where the Duchess stayed. As he passed the garage he saw Marguerite’s battered old car in the first bay. He continued circling until he reached the lane leading to the road. There was no one else in sight. Alex pressed a button on his wristwatch, illuminating the dial. 10:00p.m. He sat down with his back to a tree near the edge of the lane, sitting so he could monitor any activity coming to or from the Chateau. Hours later he heard the distant sound of a vehicle coming down the main road. He turned so he could see the Chateau. There were no lights on anywhere in the building. His wristwatch showed almost two a.m. He looked back down the lane. The sound of the distant engine changed. Alex moved to the edge of the drive just in time to see a vehicle turn off the main road onto the lane leading to the Chateau. The lights of the vehicle went off. Alex slipped back into the trees and ran towards the vehicle. As he came close he saw the vehicle was a van. Half a dozen men had just come out. Three of the men were standing in front, talking. The other three were taking things out of the open side door of the van. They were all wearing dark clothes but were not in complete blackout. One of the men in front of the van checked his wristwatch by the light of a small pencil flashlight. “Two o’clock. Good timing. Won’t be anybody up now,” the man said. He walked around to the side of the van. For a big man he moved very lightly. “Pacho, you ready to go?” “Yeah. We don’t need much for this.” Pacho and his two companions picked up an assortment of fuel cans and small packages. One of the men slid the van door shut. It made a loud bang. The big man walked over to man at the door. “You dumb bastard. You could wake the dead with a noise like that.” “There’s only a couple of women up there, for Chrissake.” “A couple of women who could call the cops.” “A lot that would mean,” Pacho laughed derisively, but he saw the big man’s threatening gesture and stopped laughing. “Okay, okay Lascal. We’ll be quiet.” He turned to his two companions. “Come on, pick up your stuff. These guys aren’t going to carry anything for you so, let’s get going.” He looked at Lascal. “I don’t know why they had to bring us all the way from Paris for a little shit-ass job like this. I’m sure there must be guys around here who could do it.” “You’re getting paid enough, so stop whining,” Lascal said. In the trees, only yards away from the men at the van, Alex had been listening, the instrument from his belt in his hand. He grinned. Lascal returned to the two men at the front of the van. “Max, you stay with the van. We’ll signal you when we need you.” He nodded to the third man, the biggest man in the

group, who came up beside him as he started down the road. The three men carrying the equipment fell in line behind him. Alex stayed parallel with them as he walked behind the trees, placing his feet carefully so he made no sound. Lascal stopped just before they reached the end of the trees bordering the Chateau courtyard. The men bunched up behind him. “Okay, last check before we go to work. Pacho, you and your guys have to fire the garage, the kitchen and the downstairs rooms. Then you blow the two sides of the building. Not too big a charge. Don’t bring the building down on top of you. Just make it bad enough so nobody’s going to think twice about patching it up.” Pacho nodded. He made a point of acting bored with the whole thing. That attitude obviously irritated Lascal. “Just don’t blow the fucking thing until Gassy and I are out of there with the women, understand?” Lascal said. “I’ll let you know once I have the two broads outside.” He glared at Pacho. “Got it?” “Take it easy, Pascal. We been over this a dozen times. This is just another job for us. An easy one. Yeah, I got it. Everything will be okay.” “All right,” Lascal said, only a trifle mollified. He turned to his companion. “Now you, Gassy. You’re big, but this is one time you also have to be fast. Once we get in, I want those women out of there plus vite. I’ll take the old lady, downstairs. You take the girl, one flight up. Don’t waste any time. Grab her and get out. Fast. If she gives you a hard time, slap her a couple of times. Just not too hard. You understand?” “What if she hollers?” “Let ‘er. Except for those two, there’s nobody else here. There is an old couple who takes care of the place, but I had some people dream up something to get them out of the Chateau.” He looked at his watch. “It’s a few minutes after two.” He turned to Pacho. “Can you set everything to go up at two forty-five?” Pacho nodded. “Okay, let’s see what great experts you guys are. Get to work.” Pacho looked at Lascal without much love, then jerked his head in a signal to his two men. They picked up their gear and headed up the driveway towards the rear of the Chateau. Alex stepped back behind the tree as the men walked by him. Lascal turned to the big man beside him. “We stay here until about two thirty, then we go to the front door. It’s an old lock…no alarms…easy. Remember the layout of the building…I showed you the architectural drawings this afternoon. We get in, then turn right, through this big hall. The old lady’s room is down there, at the end. I’ll get her. You follow me, but go to the right, up the curved stairway. The girl’s one flight up, in the third bedroom down the hall. You got that?” “Yeah, the third bedroom.” “Okay. Grab her, throw a blanket over her head and come back down. I’ll be waiting for you with my own little bag of bones.” He laughed. “Then we get the hell out of there. We don’t want to be inside when they set those charges off. I know they’re supposed to wait for my signal, but I don’t trust those bastards. When Max hears the place blow, he’ll run the van down here to pick us up.” “What’ll we do with the two broads?” “We’ll take them with us to the end of the road and drop them off,” Lascal said. “It’ll be too late for them to do anything. There isn’t even a phone anywhere around for them to call for help.” He looked at his watch again. “We got twenty minutes. Let’s sit down here and relax. I’ll keep an eye on the clock.” Gassy farted. Lascal shook his head. “Phew. You could make even a plaster saint cry. Why don’t you put a plug in it? If you fart in the van again, I swear someone will shoot your ass off.” They moved off the road and sat on the ground, their backs against a tree.

When the two men sat down Alex moved along the edge of the trees towards the back of the Chateau. Halfway there he stopped suddenly. He turned his head from side to side, listening. A few seconds later he moved forward again. Alex reached the back of the Chateau and cautiously looked around the corner. One of Pacho’s crew was crouched underneath the kitchen window, setting an explosive charge. In the garage a second man was pouring liquid from a fuel can in a line across the wooden floor. As Alex watched, the fuel can ran dry. The man moved towards the rear of the garage where more cans were on the floor. Alex walked softly into the garage behind him. The man put the empty can down, stood up, pressed one hand into the middle of his back and grimaced. Alex drew his knife from its sheath. He came up behind the man and put his left arm around the man’s neck, holding the knife in his right hand high enough so that the man could see it. “If you make a sound…it wouldn’t be good. Do you understand?” Alex whispered. The man nodded. “Good. I’m going to release you. Just stand there nice and quiet. Don’t do anything else. We don’t want anyone to get hurt, do we?” The man shook his head vigorously. Alex removed his arm from the man’s neck and touched the man’s back with the knife. The man stood rigid, silent. “Good boy. Very quietly, now. I wouldn’t like it if you did anything to alarm our friend working with the explosives. Go out the door and then off to the left, to the back of the garage. I’ll be right behind you. Do it my way and no one gets hurt. Okay?” The man nodded again and the two men walked quietly out the door and around to the back of the garage without incident. “Very good,” Alex said. “Now, hands behind you.” Alex took a short piece of fine cord from one of his pockets and tied the man’s hand together behind the tree. He stood in front of the man and shook his head. “Naughty fellow, playing with fire. Someone could get hurt. It might even be you. Now I’m going to talk to the rest of your playmates and try to convince them of the error of their ways. If I do, you can all leave. There’ll be no police, no violence.” Alex tilted his head and looked at the man speculatively. “Do I have to gag you?” The man started to whisper something but Alex held a finger to his lips. “Sssh. I agree. Gagging is nasty stuff. But remember, if you should decide to make a fuss…call to your friends, for example…it would force me to break one of my own rules. I’d have to come back here and slit your throat. I’d feel very bad about that, but so would you. So be nice and keep your mouth shut. I’ll come back and untie you after all this is over and you can go home in one piece. Agreed?” The man’s head bobbed up and down. “Very good. I’ve enjoyed talking with you, but I really have to run. Arriverderci.” Alex went around the back of the garage, coming out almost opposite where the man was working under the kitchen window. On the side of the garage Alex saw a mound of sand and a pile of bricks beside it, just out of sight of the man. Alex smiled. He returned to the back of the garage, sat on a tree stump and removed his sneakers and stockings. He put only the sneakers back on. Alex put his fist into one of the stockings then pushed that stocking all the way down to the bottom of the other stocking. No holes. He went to the sand pile and filled the doubled stocking half full of sand, knotting the stocking just above the sand level. The filled stocking looked like a blackjack. He tested it against his palm a few times and then moved to the edge of the building. The man had finished setting the charge and was getting his gear together. Alex came up quietly behind him. He leaned over and took the man’s cap off. “Monsieur?” The man’s head jerked up. Before he could turn, Alex hit him on the head with his homemade blackjack. The man crumbled to the ground. Alex put the blackjack in his back pocket and dragged the limp body around the garage to the tree where the first man was tied. The man stared at Alex without saying anything. Alex lifted the downed man into a

sitting position, with his back against the tree. He tied that man’s hands behind the tree, too. Alex looked at the first man. “If he comes to, I’m counting on you to make sure he remains quiet. You know the drill. Talk to him. Keep him calm – and quiet. Otherwise…” Alex ran one of his fingers across his throat. “You understand, right?” The man nodded vigorously and Alex returned to where the explosive has been placed against the building. He’d dismantled the setup and stored it in the garage, then looked at his watch. Two twenty p.m. He went quickly to the side of the house and trotted down alongside the wall until he could see around the corner to the front of the house. Pacho was working at the base of the fireplace in the angle between the fireplace and the side of the building. The area behind the fireplace was hidden from the driveway. Knife in hand, Alex crept up behind Pacho. When Pacho stood up Alex placed his left hand over Pacho’s mouth. With his right hand he pressed the blade into Pacho’s back just deep enough for the sting to tell Pacho what was touching him. “No sound, chum. Just relax,” Alex said in a low voice. “We don’t want to mess this place up with any blood. Now…I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. Be cool, friend and you’ll get out of this without a mark.” Alex pressed the dagger a hair deeper into Pacho’s back. The man stiffened. “Don’t get any noble ideas about warning your colleagues. I need you to remain silent? If you do, that’s all the pain you’ll have. If you don’t…you know what I’ll have to do. Nod your head if you agree to cooperate.” Pacho nodded. “Sound judgment,” Alex said. “Now put your hands behind you.” Pacho hesitated and Alex jabbed his knife a little deeper. Pacho stiffened again. “Sorry. Just making a point,” Alex said. “Bad pun, I know. But I want to make sure you get the message.” “All right, all right. I get the message. Whatever you want,” Pacho whispered. “What I want is for you to put your hands behind your back. And no more talking.” Pacho did it immediately. Alex took another short length of thin cord out of his pocket and quickly ran a loop around Pacho’s wrists. “Hey, take it easy,” Pacho whispered. “I sympathize with you,” Alex said. “The cord is quite thin. It can really cut you if you fight it, but if you hold still you’ll find it tolerable. A necessary technicality, unfortunately. Now let’s go. Stay close to the building until we get to the garage.” Alex led Pacho to where the first man was standing. The second man was still unconscious on the ground. Alex grinned. “It’s like old home week. Now you guys can have a party. But very, very quietly. Pacho, just wait here a sec.” Alex left Pacho standing there and went into the barn. Pacho, incredulous, looked at the man tied to the tree. The man shrugged. A moment later Alex returned with a short length of heavier cord. “I didn’t want to tie your hands around the tree with that narrow cord. It could really hurt. This won’t be so bad.” Pacho looked at Alex with a puzzled expression. Alex untied the thin cord around Pacho’s wrists, pulled Pacho’s arms around the tree and re-tied Pacho’s wrists with the heavier cord. He stepped back. “Pacho, Pacho, Pacho,” Alex said. “What’s a man of your caliber doing with a little shitass job like this?” Pacho stared at him. “You heard us?” “Afraid I did. Eavesdropping. Not very nice, I know.” Alex shook his head. “You and your friends…” “These guys here are my friends,” Pacho said. “Lascal and his pals…they ain’t no friends of mine.” “Really?” Alex looked at them thoughtfully. “That’s something to talk about later. But

now I have to run. If everything goes well, I’ll be back soon to set you boys loose. Don’t despair.” He looked at them with eyes narrowed. “And I know I don’t have to remind you about not making any noise, right?” The two conscious men, their faces very serious, nodded. Alex looked at them and suddenly laughed. “Hey, lighten up, guys. The fun’s about to begin and you’re in the clear. Just relax and enjoy.”

CHAPTER 27 – DON’T OVERPLAY YOUR HAND Alex left them and went around to the door leading to the garden at the far side of the house. The door was unlocked. He entered and crossed the hall to the front door. That door was locked. He unlocked it, then moved over to look out the window. Lascal and Gassy were coming up the driveway. Alex backed into the shadows at the rear of the hall. A few moments later there were sounds outside the door. The door handle turned and the door opened. Lascal and Gassy came in, closing the door behind them. They stood there for a few moments, getting their eyes adjusted to the darkness. “To the right. Follow me.” Lascal said in a whisper. Alex, standing in the corner of the room in front of the stairs, was invisible to them. With Lascal leading, the two men move cautiously down the center of the room until they reached the wall. Lascal moved over to the bedroom door and put his head close to the jam. There was no sound. Cautiously he opened the door just enough for him to look inside. He pulled his head back and closed the door, then beckoned Gassy to follow him. As they moved to the right, Alex ran lightly up the stairs ahead of them. They reached the curved stairwell and Lascal pointed upwards. “It’s the first landing, third door. Okay?” “Okay,” Gassy said in a hoarse whisper. Lascal walked carefully back to the door leading to the Duchess’ room. Gassy grasped the handrail along the right wall and slowly tiptoed up the stairs. As Gassy emerged on the landing he stopped. The only light in the hall came from the small windows in the stairwells at each end of the corridor. There were four doors on the right side. Gassy moved cautiously down the hall towards the first door. Alex watched him from the doorway of the fourth bedroom, the furthest down the hall. At the first door Gassy put his hand on the doorknob, hesitated for a moment, then let go and continued down the hall. He reached the second door, stopped again, reached for the doorknob. Alex, watching him, closed his eyes and shook his head. Again Gassy hesitated, then took his hand from the doorknob and moved towards the third bedroom. At the third doorway he stopped, looked to the right towards the two bedrooms he’d passed, then grasped the doorknob and turned it. He stepped in, leaving the door ajar. Alex came up, only a few steps behind him. Enough light came from the window to show Marguerite sleeping on her bed. Gassy tiptoed to the bed, reached over and grasped the edge of the blanket covering Marguerite. Alex moved forward. He raised one foot and brought it down sharply on Gassy’s instep. Gassy let out a howl. Marguerite jerked upright. All she could see in the dark was two figures beside her bed, one of them jumping up and down, emitting sounds of pain. She screamed. Gassy, hopping on one foot, turned towards Alex. Alex stepped forward and kicked Gassy in the shin of the uninjured foot. Gassy howled again and jumped around even more agitatedly, from one foot to another. Marguerite held the coverlet up to her chin. Uncertain of what was happening, but frightened, she screamed again. “One scream was enough, Maggie. Now just stay on the bed, out of the way.” “Alex? What’s happening?” Alex no longer payed any attention to Marguerite. Gassy, injured but enraged, was now looking for his attacker. Alex pulled the blackjack from his back pocket. “Sorry, pal, but you’re too damned big to fight,” Alex muttered. He stepped into the light coming from the window. “Here, boy.”

Gassy turned, saw the outline of Alex’s body, and charged, his huge arms extended. Alex stepped to the side and brought the blackjack down hard on Gassy’s head. Gassy fell to his knees but didn’t go down. Alex shook his head. “I’m really sorry, but…” He hit Gassy with the blackjack again. This time the big man collapsed onto the floor. Alex rolled him over, pulled Gassy’s hands behind his back and secured the massive hands. “Whew. Glad that’s over.” Alex moved to the bed. “You can scream again, if you like, but it’s really not necessary.” “Alex, who is this man? What’s going on?” Marguerite said, starting to get out of bed. “Not much. A half dozen bozos came here to burn the place down, blow it up, that sort of thing. The guy on the floor is one of them. I’ve taken care of most of them. Just one left, downstairs, with the Duchess. Don’t worry. It’ll be all right.” He started for the door, then stopped. “And for heaven’s sake, Maggie, don’t come down until I call you.” He didn’t wait for her reply but headed out the door. Even before he reached the bottom of the stairwell he heard the Duchess’ thin voice berating Lascal. Lascal was standing in front of the Duchess’ room, the Duchess tucked under his arm like a sack of potatoes, her feet off the floor. Alex unbuckled the two belts he was wearing and lowered them quietly to the floor in the corner against the stairs. Unencumbered, he moved a few feet to the left so he was silhouetted against the window. “Well, well. Monsieur Lascal. Here’s a howdy-do.” Lascal’s head jutted forward as he tried to identify the figure in front of him. “Who the hell are you?” Lascal growled. “I wish I could say ‘a friend’, but I’m not. I did come all the way out here to meet you, though, and this is how you talk? Not very gracious of you. What do I want? Why, your head on a silver platter, metaphorically speaking, of course.” “Come and get it.” Lascal released the Duchess and she fell to the floor. She gasped, then sat up and beat against his leg. Lascal brushed her away with his foot and pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants. He cocked the hammer. “A gun?” Alex said. “Oh dear, I had hoped it wouldn’t come to that.” “I’ll bet.” Lascal lowered the gun, pointed it at Alex. Alex dropped to the ground, lying there horizontally, his head down. In the dark he was completely invisible. Lascal fired. He bracketed the area, moving his gun from left to right until the hammer clicked on an empty chamber. Alex lifted his head, grinned, then leaped upright. “Well, Monsieur Lascal, we’re on an equal footing again.” Lascal rushed Alex, his arms spread wide. Alex stepped to the side and hit Lascal in the midriff as momentum carried Lascal forward. “Uh oh. You’re in better shape than I thought,” Alex said. “This is going to be fun.” Lascal rushed Alex again, this time swinging his fists. He connected with a blow to Alex’s shoulder that sent Alex reeling backwards. Alex recovered, shook his head. “This is beginning to feel more like work than play.” Marguerite, who had disobeyed Alex and had come down the stairs, pressed herself against the wall. She edged over to where the Duchess was leaning against the frame of the door and put her arm around her mother’s shoulders. They watched the two men fight. Alex kept evading Lascal’s lunges, hitting him with short blows as he sidestepped Lascal’s assaults, but he didn’t stop the bigger man. Lascal had landed several punches and both men were breathing heavily. Alex pushed himself away from the wall and raised his hand. “Hold it.” Lascal, crouched over, panting, looked at Alex warily. “We’re not getting anywhere with this,” Alex said. “Why don’t we settle it the old

fashioned way?” Lascal, taking big gulps of air, looked at Alex suspiciously. “It’s simple, really. You hit me, once. I hit you once. We keep doing that until one of us goes down. We don’t have to do anymore of this waltzing around. Fair?” Lascal didn’t answer. Alex sighed. “You have to have faith, brother. Tell you what…I know you’re looking for some trick. Suppose I let you get the first shot?” “I can hit you first?” “With all your might,” Alex said. “But I have to go down. If I don’t, then it’s my turn to have a go at it. How does that sound?” “Just hold up your jaw, you little fucker,” Lascal said, grinning wickedly. Alex moved away from the wall and stood there, his head tilted up. “There it is, old chap. But play fair. Just one shot. Remember, I have to go down.” “You will.” Lascal moved in close to Alex and drove his fist at Alex’s jaw. An instant before contact Alex pulled his head to the side and Lascal’s fist whizzed past. As momentum took Lascal by him, Alex grabbed Lascal’s wrist with both hands. He swung it down and around, then up behind Lascal’s back. Lascal cursed. Alex pushed Lascal forward into the wall. They struggled, Lascal trying to ease the pain on his arm. Alex concentrated on keeping the bigger man pinned to the wall. Lascal reached back with his right foot. He hooked it behind Alex’s ankle and pulled his foot forward. It knocked Alex off balance. They went down to the floor. As they grappled together Lascal’s weight began to make a difference. A moment more and Lascal would have had Alex beneath him. Alex placed the middle three fingers of his right hand on one side of Lascal’s larynx. He put his thumb on the opposite side of Lascal’s throat and pressed his fingers together, his thumb moving upwards, the three fingers downwards. Lascal’s eyes and mouth opened wide. “I can break your larynx in an instant,” Alex said. “You may not die but you won’t do a lot of things you used to do. Not anymore.” He applied a little more pressure. “Do you understand?” Lascal’s eyes fluttered rapidly. At that moment a shot rang out. Both men froze. They looked in the direction of the shot. Paul Duchasse moved out of the shadows. An automatic was in his right hand. “Sorry to intrude gents. You both were having so much fun. But the game’s over.” Alex and Lascal struggled to their feet. “What took you so long?” Alex said, brushing himself off. “This is one big beast.” “I was watching all the way.” Paul grinned. Alex nodded. “I saw you come through the door as I came downstairs. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sit this one out. “I let you play by yourself because you were never really in trouble. But when you did that ‘let’s exchange blows’ routine..” Paul shook his head. “I can’t believe you used that old chestnut. And just now, when you had him by the throat…I figured you didn’t kill him because you wanted him for something else.” Lascal, who had been listening to the two men talk, began edging towards the door. Paul casually lifted his automatic. “Hold it, friend. We’re not done with you, yet. So, what do we do with this bugger, Alex?” “He’s our ace in the hole…dead or alive. Keep him covered, Paul.” Alex walked to where the two women were standing in the doorway to Eugenie’s room. “Who are you?” Eugenie said, her voice still a little weak but her attitude belligerent. “The Lone Ranger and Tonto, Ma’am. Nah, just a joke. It’s only me, Duchess. Alex Beaumont, The gentleman with the gun is my friend, Paul Duchasse. That other one, who was holding you, is Lascal. A very nasty piece of work. Are you all right?” “No, I’m not all right. My house has been invaded. I’ve been attacked and bundled about like a sack of flour. I’m angry. I want to know what is going on.” “Glad to see you back in form, Duchess. I’ll answer all your questions in a few minutes.

First, I think it’s time to throw a little light on the subject.” He flipped the switch on the wall and the single light above them went on. Alex turned to Marguerite. “Since this is a Chateau, I assume it has some kind of dungeon or a place where you once kept prisoners?” “This is preposterous.” Eugenie said. “Stop this charade. I insist on knowing what this is all about.” Marguerite’s tone was brusque. “Mama¢, you’re overplaying your hand. I think you’d better back off until we find out what this is all about.” The Duchess stared at her. “A long time ago we had a dungeon of sorts,” Marguerite said to Alex. “My father converted it to a wine cellar. Not much wine in it now, but it is secure.” “Perfect.” Alex took the automatic from Paul and pointed it at Lascal. “We’ll be right back. Paul, stay with the Duchess. Maggie, if you’d lead the way…” Marguerite started towards the stairwell at the opposite end of the hall. “Let’s go, Lascal,” Alex said. When Marguerite and Alex returned, Paul and the Duchess were still standing near the doorway. “I told your friend, here...I will not move until you tell me what this is all about,” Eugenie said. Alex didn’t answer immediately but walked to the corner of the room where he’d dropped his two belts. He picked them up and buckled them about his waist as he returned to the group at the door. “You have a right to know, Duchess. There are just a few pieces of unfinished business hanging around outside. As soon as Paul and I clear up the debris we’ll come back and I’ll explain everything.” He turned to Marguerite. “It won’t be long, Maggie. We’ll come back and meet you in Eugenie’s room.” Marguerite nodded. “Come on, Paul. Let’s take out the trash.” Alex put one arm over Paul’s shoulder as they walked towards the door. “We’ve won a battle, Paul, but the war’s still going strong.”

CHAPTER 28 - THE GAME CHANGES Alex and Paul went out the front door of the Chateau and started up the driveway towards the garage. “And how did you happen to show up here just in the nick of time, Paul?” “You think you’re the only smart-ass in town, don’t you?” Paul laughed. “When my uncle told me these guys had come here, I got Olivia to check her sources. I figured these jokers wouldn’t be staying at the best hotels. Probably something local. Olivia put the word out with her friends. In an hour she found out these guys were staying at a small pension just south of Cagnes. When they left for the Chateau, this evening, I was behind them.” A boyish grin lit his face. “I hung back off the main road when I saw them turn into the lane leading to the Chateau. As soon as they parked, I came through the trees and took cover where I could watch them. Once they started unloading their gear I knew I was here at the right time. I ran back, hid the car and came looking for you. I figured you’d be waiting for them and I guessed where you’d be hiding. After I located you I wasn’t all that far behind you the rest of the night. Once I thought you might have heard me…when you left Lascal and his friend at the road and headed towards the garage…but then you moved on.” “I did hear something. I thought it might be you.” “You thought it might be me? After the way you brushed me off, the other night? That took a lot of balls, my friend.” “I didn’t want you to get involved, Paul. I knew if you joined me it would be putting you in a tough spot. DeVigny is your uncle.” Paul stopped Alex just as they got to the end of the Chateau. “You know they’re not going to let it end with just this little dust-up.” “From the moment you told me of the attack I knew all I would be able to do tonight was a Band-Aid job,” Alex said. “Even if I could bust up this attack tonight, they’d just bring in more men, more weapons. It was obvious that at some point, probably sooner than later, I’d be out-manned and out-gunned. All I could do was go down with the ship like those other two loonies.” He jerked his head in the direction of the Chateau. “That’s the way it looked. Now? Now maybe the game’s changed.” “You on to something?” Paul said, his eyes lighting up. “My problem isn’t just Lascal…or even LeBras. It’s the Duchess, and Marguerite, too. Maybe…just maybe…I can turn this whole thing around.” “What’ve you dreamed up, Alex?” Alex tapped the leather pouch on his belt. Paul frowned. “A cell phone?” “Not a cell phone. A mini tape recorder.” “I seem to be missing something.” “Think about it, Paul. Lascal is the leader of the team that was sent down here to knock out the Chateau. We have him locked up in the wine cellar, right?” Alex waited. When Paul didn’t answer he shook his head. “And who sent Lascal down here?” “LeBras.” Suddenly Paul’s eyes light up. “You devious bastard. It could work.” “We have a chance, anyway. What I’m worried about are those two ladies in the Chateau. After that thing with LeBras at the bank the other day, it’s going to be hard to get them to listen to anything I have to say.” “They have to listen. It’s their only hope.” Alex put his hand on the tape recorder. “First things first. Let’s get the details sewn up. Then I’ll tackle the Duchess and Marguerite.” “I saw you tie those guys up in the back,” Paul said. “What are you going to do with them?”

“That’s the ‘first things first’ part. I’m going to squeeze them a bit. You know the game. Just follow my lead.” “Got it. By the way, Alex…Olivia told me there was a call for you, from New York.” “Everything else seems to be falling apart at the same time, so maybe my investments are also going down the drain. Oh well. we could be back in a leaky lean-to on a soggy bedroll in some godawful jungle, so it could be worse. C’mon, Paul. Those guys out back must be tired of being tied to a tree. Just the way I want them.” Alex and Paul walked around the garage to the three men. The man Alex had knocked out was now awake and apparently had been clued in on what was happening. “Well, here we are again,” Alex said, somewhat less cordially than he’d spoken to them before. “You can talk now. This is Paul, who’s helping me clean up all the loose ends.” He and Paul stopped in front of Pacho. “Paul, this is Pacho, the leader of the fire brigade. His orders were to set fire to the Chateau, and just in case it didn’t burn to the ground they were going to blow a couple of holes in it, too. That’s Pacho’s specialty. He’s an expert. Came all the way from Paris. Someone really wanted to make sure this place would go down.” “All right, somebody screwed up,” Pacho said. “Probably Lascal. I hope you have that big buffalo and his asshole friend Gassy tied up somewhere, like us. Look, you’ve been acting like a decent guy. It’s getting pretty rough standing here like this with our arms tied around the tree. Why don’t you cut us loose? We’ll grab the van and be out of here in five minutes. The job’s botched up, but…” He shrugged. “No harm done.” Alex and Paul looked at each other. Paul shook his head. Alex looked at the three men whose eyes were fastened on him. “I’m sorry, but this has turned out to be kind of a special case,” Alex said. “Ordinarily I would have had no problem letting you all go. Maybe I would even have let Lascal and his gassy friend go, too. I mean, after all, you boys were just doing a job.” The three men said “Right, right,” in unison. “My problem’s with LeBras, Lascal’s boss in Paris,” Alex shook his head, looking regretful. “He’s responsible for a lot of the grief we’ve had down here. But the only way I have of getting at him is with you fellows down here. Shipping him a couple of corpses will get his attention. I really am sorry. I didn’t want it to be that way.” Alex looked at Paul. “What do you think?” “You don’t have any choice, Alex. Let’s do it and get it over with.” The men looked at Alex and Paul, astonished, and then looked at each other. They all began talking at once. Their excited, pleading voices were almost incoherent. Alex pulled a bandana from his pocket. “I’ll use this, Paul. Do you have a hankie or something? We’ll stuff it in their mouths.” He took the knife out of its sheath and held it in his other hand. Paul rummaged through his pockets. “I didn’t think we’d have to do this so I didn’t bring anything. Hold it a second. I’ll go into the garage and get a couple of rags.” “Hey, wait a minute,” Pacho said, his voice almost a shout. “You guys crazy or something? You can’t do this. That’s murder.” Alex looked at him coldly, then shrugged. “Come on, feller. It’s Alex, right?” Pacho said, trying to placate Alex. “Look, we’re just the little fish in the pond, a bunch of working stiffs. We don’t care about those guys on top. If you want to nail them…we’ll help you do it. Anything you want.” “Alex, he may have something,” Paul said. “If they want to help, whatthehell, these boys really don’t mean anything to you.” Alex’s face remained cold. “They’ll say anything to keep from getting their throats cut. They don’t mean it. Let’s get this job over with. I’ll get the rags…” “Alex, come on!” Pacho’s voice was panicky. His two friends were even more frightened. “Be reasonable. We understand why you’re so angry at LeBras, and we want to help. Tell us what you want. Anything. Just don’t go off the deep end.”

Doubt softened the stony lines on Alex’s face. “You might as well give them a break,” Paul said. “We have too many other things to do. Put the knife away, Alex, and tell them what you want them to do. They’ll cooperate. Hell, it’s no skin off their noses, and it’s been a hard night for them, too.” “Maybe you’re right, Paul. If they help… I could let them go.” Alex reached behind him and brought out the little tape machine. “I was going to use this on Lascal, but I suppose they’d do just as well.” “Sure, sure,” Pacho said. “We’ll tell you everything. Just put the knife away.” “All right,” Alex said to the obvious relief of the three men. “You can’t really know too much, but tell me how Lascal got you involved in this. If it sounds straight to me, you have a deal. I’ll let you go.” Their voices blended together in an excited babble as they assured him they’d cooperate. Alex cleaned the knife blade off against his trousers and put it back in its sheath. “Okay.” Alex was all businesslike now. “Name and address first. Then tell me how Lascal got you into this…how he recruited you, what he hired you to do…that kind of stuff. Keep it simple. I want all the details but I don’t need an elaborate story. If it rings true I’ll let you go. Oh, one more thing…” They looked at him, anxious to please. “You’ll have to take that big horse, Gassy, with you. He’s tied up in the Chateau, one flight up, third bedroom on the right. You can get the van to pull up to the front of the house and a couple of you can carry him down. I think he’ll still be a little under the weather and may not be quite ready to handle the stairs himself. Do we have a deal?” “It’s fine with me.” Pacho said. His two friends were quick to agree. “Okay, you first, Pacho.” Alex held out the tape recorder and pressed the ‘play’ button on the little machine.

CHAPTER 29 – A SKIRMISH WON BEFORE THE BATTLE Alex and Paul returned to Eugenie’s room after they’d finished with Pacho and his two partners. Marguerite was on the couch, Eugenie in her chair. Alex and Paul stood in front of the fireplace so they could see both women. Alex looked from Marguerite to Eugenie and then back to Marguerite. “Okay…first, the facts. At two a.m. this morning six men came to the Chateau. They had orders from Gaston LeBras to blow up the Chateau, burn it down, do whatever was necessary to make sure the Chateau was beyond repair or salvage. They were also to try to get you two out before the building went down…if they could. As you know, their mission was unsuccessful. We captured the three men who rigged the charges and were supposed to set fire to the Chateau.” Paul, just out of range of Alex’s view, grinned at Marguerite, pointed to himself, shook his head, then pointed to Alex and nodded. “Maggie,” Alex said, “you were supposed to be taken out of the Chateau by Gassy, the man I tied up in your room. Duchess…” Alex looked at Eugenie. “You saw me tussle with Lascal, the leader of the group. He was the one getting you out. For the moment the sixth man is still with the van at the end of the road. He doesn’t know what’s happened here. Lascal is hors de combat in your wine cellar. Those are the facts.” Alex looked at each woman in turn. “Unfortunately the facts do not adequately describe the real situation.” No one said a word as they waited for Alex to continue. “Tonight’s little incident doesn’t solve your problem,” Alex said. “This isn’t over. You’ve won a skirmish. That’s all. The real war is about to begin. Your days of tranquil, selfabsorbed martyrdom are over. You can’t go quietly into the setting sun, living off the memory of the glory that once was Chateau Mont Gervais.” Alex shook his head. “LeBras doesn’t give a hoot in hell about history, family or tradition.” he said. “Next time his men won’t be given any caveat to get you out before the roof caves in.” There was noise outside the room and the sound of men talking. Alex waved it away. “That’s just the demolition crew. They’re going upstairs to get Gassy, the guy in Marguerite’s room. He’s probably still unconscious. They’ll have to carry him out.” “I know what you did for us, tonight,” Marguerite said. “We can never repay you. But…” Alex looked quickly at Eugenie and then back to Marguerite. “Considering my relationship with DeVigny and what he asked me to do…you have to regard me as a traitor. I understand. But all that happened before I met you. If you don’t trust me now…” Alex and Marguerite stared at each other, oblivious to the others in the room. Marguerite dropped her eyes. “I do trust you, Alex. Completely.” She looked up. “But what can we do? Mama¢ and I have no experience dealing with a man like LeBras.” “I know. But we do have an ace in the hole. Tonight’s attack makes LeBras vulnerable. Instead of worrying about how to defend yourself against him, you have to attack. That’s good strategy. There’s more to gain here than you can imagine.” “I’d rather fight than live in fear,” Marguerite said, her face showing signs of awakening hope. Alex nodded and turned towards Eugenie. “You’ve told me a dozen times...the Midignards are famous for their military men. I can’t believe you’re going to go meekly to defeat, in spite of what happened here tonight. I know you, Duchess. The only place I can see you is at the head of the troops, carrying the flag. So what will it be…cave in, or fight?” Eugenie’s eyes flashed and she sat up straighter. “You’re a damned rabble rouser, Alex

Beaumont, but I like the way you went after Lascal. I don’t know what wild scheme you have now…the last one didn’t work so well…but whatever it is…” Her jaw jutted out. “Count me in.” “I love it,” Paul said. “I’m also in.” He looked at Alex, eyebrows raised. “But what are we going to do?” “The first thing you’re going to do is wake up your uncle as soon as it gets light. I want him to call LeBras. Alain has to tell LeBras he must come down here…today. Even though the attack was aborted, it frightened the women badly. They finally realize what they’re up against. They want to settle, get out with whatever they can save. Alain has to make LeBras understand that they have to close the deal now, while the women are vulnerable. In a day or two, once their fear leaves, Marguerite and the Duchess could change their minds. If LeBras comes today, the deal can be closed. The time is right. Can you get your uncle to make that pitch?” “My uncle will do anything to stop the use of force,” Paul said. “And he’s really fond of the Duchess.” “LeBras again?” Marguerite said. “When you know more about fighting, Mag, you’ll know he’s the kind of enemy you should want,” Alex said. “Self-assured, over-confident, so convinced of his power he doesn’t care what the other side has. You couldn’t ask for a better opponent.” Alex held his hand out to Marguerite and he drew her up from the couch. “Relax, Maggie. This time the Big Bad Wolf may find Little Red Riding Hood too tough for him to swallow.” Alex led Marguerite over to Eugenie. “Help your mother up, Maggie. The two of you go back to bed. Paul and I are going to have something hot to drink in the kitchen and then we’re going downstairs to talk with our friend Lascal. After that, Paul will go back to tackle his uncle and I’ll make myself comfortable here. Should be a very interesting day coming up.” “If everything works the way you plan it,” Eugenie said, scowling at Alex. “I know, I know.” Alex grinned at her. “Overconfidence is dangerous, and LeBras is used to dealing with hundreds of little pipsqueaks like us. But at least there’s a plan. We’re not going to sit here and just let him gobble us up.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Have faith, Mama¢, have faith.” Marguerite and Alex looked at each other. Alex nodded. “You too, cherie.” He took Paul by the arm and started towards the door. “Come on, Paul. The ladies need some rest. We still have some work to do with our friend in the wine cellar.

CHAPTER 30 - THE LASCAL CHIP Alex and Paul had some strong black coffee in the kitchen, and talked about Lascal. “Same tactic?” Paul asked. Alex nodded. “Let’s go.” They descended a narrow, circular staircase to the wine cellar. The walls, roof and stairs of the passageway were laid in stone and looked like the entrance to the dungeon it had once been. At the bottom they stopped on a small landing. In front of them a heavy wooden door, barely six feet tall, was set in a narrow archway cut out of the stone wall. Paul had the automatic in his hand. Alex banged on the door. “We’re coming in, Lascal,” he said and put the key in the lock. Lascal’s voice rumbled something indistinct inside. Alex and Paul looked at each other and Alex turned the key. The wine cellar was about sixteen feet by sixteen feet, the walls lined with wooden wine racks floor to ceiling. All the wine racks were empty except for a line of bottles in one rack on the left. The room was lit by one small electric bulb in an old candleholder to the right of the door. Lascal sat on a large, upturned wine keg in the far corner of the room. “Ready for that little chat I promised you?” Alex asked. “You sonofabitch, tell your friend to put that gun down and I’ll tear your apart.” “We tried that upstairs,” Alex said. “Now let’s try something a little more sensible.” Alex and Paul walked closer to Lascal. “If you’re prepared to listen…we might make a deal. If not, you’re the pigeon we’ll throw to the dogs.” “You talk too goddamned fancy for me,” Lascal said in disgust. Alex looked at Paul. “I told you it wouldn’t work. But I did try. Let’s get out of here.” He turned and started towards the door. Paul grimaced and started to follow Alex. “Hey, hold it,” Lascal said. “You didn’t tell me what kind of deal you want to make.” Alex stopped in the doorway, turned and looked coldly at Lascal. “Don’t do me any favors, chum. I want LeBras, but if I can’t get him, you’ll do as well, especially since I already have the goods on you.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Lascal started to move towards them. Paul cocked his weapon. “I think you’d better sit down,” Alex said, motioning Lascal to the wine keg. “If Paul has to fire his gun in here, the noise would be deafening. You’d never hear it, of course, but it really would be loud.” Lascal edged backwards until he touched the wine barrel. “You talk a lot, but you don’t have nothing on me,” he said, a scowl on his face. “I never saw you before tonight.” Alex took the tape recorder out of his pocket and pressed the button. Pacho’s voice came out of the tape recorder. “My name is Pacho…Jean Pachoulac. I live in Paris, 26 Rue Marie Doumier.” His voice was crisp and clear. “Last week I was hired by Etienne Lascal to go to St. Agate to set fire to Chateau Mont Gervais and to make sure it went down by blowing up two of the supporting walls. I was to get two men to help me. Lascal said his boss, Gaston LeBras, told him to get this job done immediately. Lascal got air transportation for us to Nice. We rented a van, picked up some supplies and stayed overnight in someplace called Cagnes. The next night Lascal drove us to the Chateau. He and another guy were supposed to get the two ladies out of the Chateau before we blew it up, if they could.” Alex stopped the tape. “I also have statements from his two helpers. They’ve all agreed to testify personally if I can get the police to give them immunity. Shouldn’t be a problem. The police aren’t interested in the little fish. Pacho and his men picked up Gassy and they’re gone.”

Lascal sat there, glowering. Alex shook his head and he and Paul stood up. “All right. What do you want from me?” Lascal said. “I don’t want you at all. I want LeBras. But if I can’t get him…I’ll take you. I have to have someone to give to the police.” Alex laughed sarcastically. “With your personality and all the friends you’ve made on the outside…you can look forward to having a great time in prison.” “You’re a pisser,” Lascal said. “You know I can’t afford to do time.” “Right. And you won’t…if you cooperate.” “You guarantee that?” “Lascal, you don’t mean a fat rat’s ass to me,” Alex said. “It’s that other slime ball I want to hang from his operating valves. Give me what I want…on this…”he held up the tape recorder…“and you walk out of here a free man.” Lascal’s eyes shifted from Alex to Paul and back to Alex again. “Okay, what do you want?” “Name, rank and serial number,” Alex said. “The same kind of details Pacho gave me…enough to squeeze Monsieur LeBras into a very small box. Talk into the mike and tell me exactly what his orders to you were. Do it and you can be gone before he…or the police…can touch you.” Lascal thought about it for a moment. “Okay, turn that thing on,” he said. Alex moved closer, held up the tape recorder and put it on ‘record’. Lascal started to speak. “My name is Etienne Lascal…” Lascal’s narrative was not much longer than Pacho’s, but it contained all the essential details, enough to satisfy Alex and Paul. “That’s everything,” Lascal said. “I don’t know nothing more.” “It’s enough.” Alex put the tape recorder back in the case on his belt. Lascal stood up. “Now let me out of here.” “Not quite yet,” Alex said. “You lying bastard.” Lascal jumped up, ready to attack. “I’m not lying, Lascal. You’ll be out of here this afternoon,” Alex said. “But right now I want to have you available when LeBras gets here. You won’t even have to talk to him. I’m just going to play the tape, make him sweat a bit. We’ll go over it with you later. After that, you’re free. We’ll get you to the airport and have a seat available on a flight back to Paris. Meanwhile, there’ll be something for you to eat in a little while, so just cool your tool for a few hours, chum.” Alex and Paul backed out of the room and closed the door. “Whew,” Alex said as he and Paul went back up the stairs. “Lascal had me worried for a while. He could have gone either way.” “It was close. Now it’s up to you, pal. It’s still very dicey.” “I know, but there’s not much choice. As they say in our south…push has come to shove. We’re going with what we have.”

CHAPTER 29 — A STUMBLING BLOCK The morning went by much as Alex had anticipated. Paul spoke to his uncle and the banker was happy to cooperate. DeVigny looked forward to having everything settled that very afternoon. In his call to LeBras, he was more forceful than he’d dared to be in the past.. LeBras also sensed the end. He agreed to come. They would all meet at one o’clock in the afternoon. This time it would be at the Chateau instead of at the bank. Paul picked Olivia up at her restaurant and they arrived back at the Chateau later in the morning. Alex asked Marguerite and her mother to join them, and they all squeezed in around the little table in the kitchen. “Okay, strategy session,” Alex said. “Let’s go over the procedure for our meeting with LeBras.” He outlined their objectives, but gave them no specific talking points. Marguerite and the Duchess looked apprehensive, but Paul seemed quite content. Alex also spent a few minutes with Lascal. The big man was still truculent, but he agreed to do what Alex asked. Alex radiated a relaxed calm. It reassured them and made the waiting more bearable. In his own mind Alex knew better. There were too many things that could go wrong, but he didn’t want any edgy emotions. It wouldn’t take much to upset his plans. He left the group in the dining room, where they were talking to each other, went into the Great Hall and stood by the window, watching the road. When he saw the car coming out from under the trees, he strode back to them. The Duchess was seated at the head of the table; Marguerite sat to her right and Paul and Olivia sat opposite her. “DeVigny’s car has just turned off the main road.” Alex said. “They’ll be here in a minute. Time for you and Olivia to go, Paul. You know what to do.” Paul nodded and he and Olivia left the room. “All right, ladies, gird up your loins.” Alex grinned. “Not quite the perfect analogy, even if it’s the right thought. You and I will meet them at the door, Maggie. After the opening, let me do the talking.” Marguerite looked at the Duchess and they both nodded. “Duchess, you don’t have to get up. We’ll bring them to you.” Alex took Marguerite’s hand. “Ready, girl?” They reached the front terrace just as DeVigny’s car pulled to a stop. DeVigny and LeBras got out of the car. Marguerite held her hand out to DeVigny. Alex nodded to LeBras who ignored the greeting. “Thank you for coming,” Marguerite said. “The Duchess is waiting for us inside. She has a little difficulty walking.” Alex watched LeBras look around the huge, empty room as they passed through the Great Hall. LeBras smiled sardonically. Alex smiled too. That was just the way he wanted LeBras to feel. The door to the dining room was open and they could see the Duchess, alone at the end of the long table. They followed Marguerite into the room. DeVigny approached the Duchess and bowed. LeBras gave her a curt nod and squeezed himself into the chair at the foot of the table. Marguerite, DeVigny and Alex sat near Eugenie. “We asked you to meet with us this morning because of the events of last night,” Marguerite said. “We were fortunate enough to have Alex, here, who was able to stop anything serious from happening.” LeBras showed no emotion as he looked at Alex, appraising him. “We realize we can’t have someone like Alex here all the time. As two women, alone, we just can’t deal with the continued threat of violence.” “I told you this would happen,” LeBras said. “You have to get out before somebody gets

hurt.” He tried to sound sincere and concerned. It was an obvious effort for him to be less abrasive than he’d been at their first meeting. “All right,” LeBras said. “I talked with Alain DeVigny. He’s willing to be generous. We all are. Maybe my office can even find a few extra francs; enough to get you settled somewhere. It’s the best we can do. Just tell us when you plan to leave.” “That’s very kind of you,” Marguerite said. LeBras lowered his head for a moment in a gesture of magnanimity. “But that’s not exactly what we had in mind.” Marguerite’s smile was transparently false. “We’ve asked Alex to speak for us. He can tell you exactly what we want.” “It isn’t what you want!” LeBras said, reverting back to his normal, terse form of communication. “You’re obviously not accustomed to working with a budget. We are. We do not have unlimited resources. All we have is what’s in our budget, and there’s very little play in that, however much we might want to give you,” he added, with a patently false smile. “That’s been the problem you’ve been unwilling to recognize all along“ “I don’t think you understand the situation, Monsieur LeBras,” Alex said in a neutral voice. “Things have changed a bit. In return for giving up the stretch of land on which you want to build your road, we want all the Chateau’s mortgages paid up. It’s your budget that will have to stretch to accommodate us. And that’s not all.” LeBras stared at Alex, momentarily speechless. Marguerite and the Duchess looked at each other. They were wide-eyed, unable to speak. “All the Chateau’s possessions that were pawned by the Midignards over the last few decades are now held in the bank’s storage,” Alex said. “We want those redeemed and returned to the Chateau. And we want five thousand trees planted to shield the Chateau from the new road and any buildings that may be built nearby.” In his anger LeBras had trouble extricating himself from his chair. Finally he stood up. The skin on his face was as taut as a lampshade. “Get me out of here.” He kicked the chair out of the way. DeVigny didn’t move. “I told you, LeBras, the situation’s changed, Alex said. “Please sit down.” Alex took the tape recorder from his pocket and hit ‘play’. The sound of Pacho’s voice filled the room. No one spoke as Pacho talked about being hired by Lascal. LeBras’ face remained expressionless as he listened till the end of Pacho’s statement. “Big deal.” he said contemptuously when Alex turned the recorder off. “You know what that is? Nothing. All you have is three cheap torchers willing to swear to anything to save themselves from going to jail. Nobody will believe them. And even if anyone did, it has nothing to do with me. Lascal hired them. I had nothing to do with it. Just ask my lawyers.” “Don’t go just yet, LeBras,” Alex said, unperturbed. “There’s an encore you’ll want to hear.” He started the tape again. “My name is Etienne Lascal. I live in Paris. I’m a road construction supervisor and I work for the Department of Transportation. My boss is Gaston LeBras. Last week he ordered me to get a couple of guys and go down to Chateau Mont Gervais in St. Agate to destroy the place. We were to make sure it could never be used again. He gave me the names of a couple of guys to help me, guys who were good with explosives. We were supposed to get the women out before the fire, if we could, but the most important thing was to make sure the Chateau was destroyed.” Alex stopped the tape. “It’s just another goddamned tape,” LeBras said after a moment. “I have lawyers who can turn that inside out. Tapes can be doctored. Everyone knows that.” “You’re a hard man to convince,” Alex said. “Okay, Paul,” Alex moved his eyes to look past LeBras. They all followed Alex’s gaze. Etienne Lascal appeared in the doorway. He didn’t look at LeBras. “My name is Etienne Lascal.” “Thank you, Lascal. We don’t need the rest of it just yet.” Alex turned back to LeBras. “I think perhaps you might want to stay a little longer.”

Slowly LeBras wedged himself back into the chair. “As you see, LeBras,” Alex said, “not only do we have the tapes, we have the men who made the tapes. They're all ready to testify…to save their own skins, of course, but that really doesn’t matter to the court. I’m sure you understand what their testimony in court could mean. So this is where we are now.” Alex kept his voice neutral. “You have a choice. You can still build your road, under our conditions, or you can go to jail. It’s up to you. Building a road is liable to be a lot more comfortable.” LeBras and Alex locked eyes. “Finding the money to pay off the Midignard mortgages and return their possessions to them should not be a big problem for you.” Alex shrugged. “The money won’t come out of your pocket. You’re a bureaucrat. A hundred million francs more or less is a pittance in a budget that will certainly be in the billions. You can fit it neatly into the cost of acquiring the land. Best of all…you’ll be a hero.” A small sign of interest appeared on LeBras’ face as he looked at Alex now. “I know we don’t have to tell a distinguished civil servant like you how to handle budget details like that,” Alex said. “I’m sure you’ll tell your superiors in Paris how much money you’ve saved them by not having to wait another two years. The contractors will thank you. The workers will thank you. The companies that want to build on the plateau won’t have to look somewhere else, and the people of St. Agate will bless you for the prosperity the road will bring. You’ll be a winner all around.” Alex changed. His posture grew stiff, face cold. “Make your choice, LeBras. Be a hero--or go to jail. Personally, I’d rather see you go to jail, but that’s not up to me. Choose.” Eugenie broke the silence in the room by pounding on the floor with her cane. Startled, everyone turned to look at her. Her eyes glinted as she stared at each in turn, stopping, finally, on Alex. “Young man, I thank you for what you’ve done for us. You’ve been very brave. But you’ve cobbled together something here without consulting me, and I won’t have it.” Her outburst startled the others at the table, but Alex smiled, stood up and went to Eugenie’s chair. “Duchess, you and I need to talk together for a few seconds. Will you join me in my office, please? I’m sure you folks will excuse us for a moment.” Eugenie looked around the table. They were just as surprised as she was. She got out of the chair with Alex’s help. “What office?” “Follow me.” Alex led her through the door to the kitchen and closed the door. They stood in the middle of the room. Paul leaned over and spoke to Olivia. “We never counted on the Duchess. Alex has LeBras on the ropes, but the Duchess could blow the whole thing up at the last second.”

CHAPTER 32 - THE END GAME “You and I have needed to have this conversation for a while, now,” Alex said to Eugenie in a pleasant voice. Eugenie was belligerent. “I won’t have you going around making deals behind my back” “Duchess, you are the heir to the Midignard history. You can do anything you want…to yourself or to the Chateau. You want them to kill you, burn you down, make you a martyr, go down with honor…do it. But you have no right to put Marguerite’s life at risk. Lascal and his friends have shown you how real that threat is. A few days ago you told me not to do anything to hurt Marguerite. Now you’re putting her life in jeopardy. When you do that, honor becomes selfishness.” Conflicting emotions rippled across Eugenie’s face. “We’re going to settle this thing today…now…one way or the other,” Alex said. “I don’t want to have to go back out there and tell everyone about where you put your priorities, but I will if you foul this up.” “That’s blackmail!” Alex grinned. “Sure is. Live with it. But we’ll keep it a secret…part of the family history. I certainly won’t tell since I expect to become a family member.” Eugenie’s eyes opened wide. Alex leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Right, Mama¢”. His face grew serious. “Give it your best shot, Duchess. Go in there and scream, holler, pound on the floor. Put on any act you like. Just remember…this has to be Marguerite’s call. It’s her life. She has to make the decision. And she has the legal right to do it.” He looked directly into her eyes. “You know I care for you, but I’ll push you into the moat myself if you mess it up for Marguerite. Understood?” “You’re very tough with an old woman.” Alex smiled. “You know better than that.” Eugenie hesitated for a moment. “Now.” Alex said. The Duchess managed one last moment of resistance. Slowly Eugenie’s face softened. She smiled. “All right, Alex, we’ll do it your way.” He took her hand and reached for the doorknob. “Our way.” They returned to their seats in the dining room. Eugenie looked at the people around the table. “Monsieur LeBras, you want some of the Midignard land so you can put a road in across the plateau and build factories, a hotel and lord knows what else,” she said. “The Midignards have never sold or given away a meter of their land. After my death you can build as many roads and hotels as you wish, but for now…I hope you choose to go to jail.” Marguerite looked at her mother in astonishment. “Mama¢, if not for Alex, in a little while you wouldn’t have had any land at all to sell, lease or give away. It would all belong to the banks, assuming that LeBras and Lascal let us live that long.” She took a deep breath. “Give it up, Mama¢. We’ve played the waiting game long enough.” “What are you talking about, young lady?” Marguerite looked at Alex. “Not very long ago someone told me the waiting game was only for the most experienced players, and the bravest. He could have added…and for the most foolish, because if you wait too long you can lose everything.” She looked back at her mother. “We’ve played this damned fool game long enough. The world has changed. I’m not going to take a chance on losing everything because I waited too long.”

“I don’t know what you mean, but whatever it is, I won’t permit it.” Marguerite smiled affectionately at her mother. “Sorry, Mama¢. It’s not your decision. You remember…Papa signed over control of the Midignard estate to me.” “That’s preposterous! Eugenie said. “I’ll take it to the courts.” “You waited too long, Mama¢.” Marguerite patted her mother’s arm. “I already have the keys to the little red car.” She turned to Alex and put her hand out, palm up. Alex grinned, took the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into her open palm. “Marguerite, I don’t understand any of this,” Eugenie said. “What are you talking about?” “I’ll tell you later, Mama¢. Let’s get back to business.” She looked at LeBras. “Well, Monsieur, what will it be? We can’t wait any longer. We have to get on with our lives.” Lebras did a quick survey of the people at the table. There was only silence. “So the road will cost a little more,” he said, shrugging. “The public won’t give a damn.” He stood. “Come on, DeVigny. We can prepare the paperwork in your office. I want to get this over with. Let’s get going.” DeVigny went quickly to Eugenie and took her hand. “Duchess, I am so happy for you. Once again the Midignards make history on our plateau.” “Thank you, Alain. I’m still not altogether sure what’s happened here. Marguerite?” She turned, searching for her daughter. Marguerite and Alex were behind her, their arms around each other as they kissed. At that moment Paul and Olivia came through the door. They went to Alex and Marguerite. “Okay, champ, enough already,” Paul said. “You’ll have plenty of time for that later.” Alex and Marguerite separated. They stood beside Eugenie, holding hands. “Lascal?” Alex asked Paul. “Gone. Olivia brought a car for him. He’ll leave it at the airport.” “We’ll all eat at my place tonight,” Olivia said. “By this evening everyone from Marseilles to Menton will know about this. What a party we’ll have.” “We couldn’t have done it without your help, Monsieur DeVigny,” Alex said. “No, Alex. This was all your doing. I hope you decide to stay in St. Agate so we can be friends.” Alex didn’t answer but turned to look at Marguerite who was helping her mother out of the chair. “I’ll take LeBras back to my office and we can start the paperwork,” DeVigny said. “Give me an hour or two and then bring the Duchess and Marguerite to the bank. I’m so happy the way this turned out. It will be a great honor for me to be able to make this official.” They shook hands and DeVigny walked around the table to where LeBras was standing alone. “Come, Monsieur. We have work to do.” LeBras looked across the table and caught the Duchess’ eye. He made a gesture almost like a salute and he left with DeVigny. Paul, Olivia, Marguerite and Alex closed in around Eugenie. “Duchess Midignard,” Alex said, “I want you to know we can deal with each other, now, as equals.” Marguerite and Eugenie look at him with raised eyebrows. “Several years ago I invested most of the money I made as a mercenary in a start up computer company,” Alex said. “It was very successful. Yesterday I learned the company has been bought up by one of the computer giants. Today I am, in fact, a millionaire, and the first thing I’m going to do with that money is restore Chateau Mont Gervais to mint condition. So you see, Mama¢, you may have to put up with me for a long time.” Everyone started talking at once. Marguerite pulled Alex away from the group. “ Alex, for heaven’s sake, what did you say to Mama¢ in the kitchen?”

“Nothing much. I just asked her if I could be her son-in-law.” XXX