Free The Case of the Black Pearl by Lin Anderson Page A

discover how, just as Moreaux had tried and failed to find out Patrick’s history.
    Moreaux didn’t like him, that Patrick knew, but the detective had aided him on occasion, when it was to his advantage, and Patrick had returned the favour in full. He had hoped to keep Moreaux out of this job, but their meeting tonight on the
Heavenly Princess
had rendered that impossible.
    His mind filled with such thoughts, Patrick turned down Stephen’s suggestion that they head for the Irish bar. He wanted time to think, and to eat. Neither would be possible in Stephen’s company, agog as the Irishman was over their trip to the black yacht.
    Patrick murmured his thanks for Stephen’s help, ignored the disappointed look and headed into Le Suquet. The Rue Saint Antoine was packed, its cobbled route narrowed even further by the occupied tables set out on either side. Patrick didn’t bother checking the menus, most of them
gastronomique
, but continued to the top and into the square, where a row of small cafés and restaurants, serving the locals, overlooked a park and the local school.
    Los Faroles was a favourite of his. It served excellent fresh food at lunchtime, mostly to locals, although an occasional tourist stumbled upon its menu. At night it operated only as a café-bar.
    He skirted the outside tables, fully occupied by beer and wine drinkers, and entered the small space within, making for a corner table stacked with menus. Fritz, the current waiter, was German. A retired school teacher, he lived in a tiny studio flat in the nearby Rue Louis Perissol and was currently writing a history of Le Suquet. When he saw Patrick he came over to him.
    ‘Whatever you have left over from lunchtime,’ Patrick pleaded.
    Fritz nodded. ‘Keep an eye on the outside while I fix it.’
    Fritz slipped behind the kitchen counter and Patrick heard the hiss of the gas. He headed outside to fulfil his duties. One of the beer drinkers, a very large man dressed in a light suit and Panama hat, asked for two more beers in bad French. His companion was much younger and dressed in a similar fashion to the
Black Pearl
producer, in long shorts and T-shirt.
    Patrick removed their empty glasses and brought replenished ones and another bowl of potato chips. As he turned back inside, a couple strolled past to sit at a table at the top restaurant on Rue Saint Antoine.
    Marie Elise looked stunning in a long pink dress that revealed her shapely shoulders. Her companion was a tall handsome man with white-blond hair. The contrast in colouring was drawing admiring glances from everyone, including the beer drinkers he’d just served. Marie Elise didn’t appear to notice. She had eyes only for her companion, chatting easily to him in Swedish.
    Patrick stepped quickly inside.
    He was spared working out why he didn’t want to be seen when Fritz gestured to a plate of eggs and sautéed potatoes on the corner table. Patrick gave him the thumbs-up and set to work on it. Eating wasn’t the only reason he had come here tonight, however. Fritz was an authority on current residents of Le Suquet, both itinerant and long established.
    Patrick got his chance to ask about Leon Aubert fifteen minutes later when Fritz announced he was closing. The surprised clientele, used to late-night Cannes, looked somewhat bemused as Fritz stacked chairs around them. Finally persuaded that he was indeed closing, they headed off to find an alternative drinking establishment.
    Patrick rinsed glasses while Fritz secured the metal shutter. As it descended, so too did the noise of Cannes.
    Fritz waved a bottle of cognac in Patrick’s direction. ‘You have time for a drink?’
    Patrick nodded. ‘I have something I wanted to ask you.’
    ‘I suspected as much.’
    Fritz put two tumblers on the table and poured a generous measure in each glass. He sniffed his and gave a small satisfied smile before sampling.
    ‘A Camus,’ he informed Patrick. ‘Good.’
    Patrick gave Fritz time to savour his