The Monte Carlo Proposal

‘OK, we’ve exchanged pleasantries long enough. Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing and why?’

‘I am looking for the British Consul,’ I asserted, with what I hoped was dignity.

‘Dressed like that?’

‘It’s because I’m dressed like this that I need the Consul,’ I said through gritted teeth.

‘You need help, don’t you?’

‘You guessed!’

‘I’m clever that way,’ he said, not letting himself be offended by the edge in my voice, which I suppose was lucky for me.

‘I’m running away,’ I told him, ‘but I’ve got nowhere to run to.’

‘Where are you running from?’

‘A yacht. It’s called The Silverado and it’s moored down there. Look.’

From here we could just about make out Vanner’s yacht, far below us in the harbour.

‘That one,’ I said, ‘right next to the big vulgar one.’

‘You mean The Hawk?’ he said.

‘You know it?’ For a moment I thought he seemed uneasy.

‘Why do you say it like that?’ he asked.

‘Like what?’

‘As though knowing The Hawk is a crime. Are you acquainted with the owner?’

‘I know of him. He’s a creep called Jack Bullen, and Hugh Vanner has been trying to crawl to him ever since he berthed.’

‘That makes this Vanner character a creep, but why Bullen?’

‘Because Vanner would only crawl to an even bigger creep than himself.’

‘I suppose that’s logical,’ he admitted.

‘He even sent him gold and diamond cufflinks. I ask you!’

‘That’s really disgusting. And who needs gold and diamonds? Look at these—’

He flashed his own cufflinks at me and I was startled. They were really rubbish, and I mean really. My family is expert in appraising jewellery and I absorbed it with my mother’s milk.

Not that I needed expertise with these. They looked as if they’d come off a market stall, and the mother-of-pearl was peeling.

‘You do know The Hawk, don’t you?’ I challenged him.

‘In a sort of way,’ he said vaguely.

I wondered if he was one of the ship’s stewards, enjoying a night out. Despite his fancy shirt and bow tie this man was short of cash. His winnings probably represented a fortune to him.

‘You’d better pick up your money,’ I said.

‘Can I risk letting you go?’

‘I’ve got nowhere to run.’

He released my wrist and bent to grasp some of the notes.

‘How about helping me?’ he asked, looking up.

‘I’d rather not touch your cash.’

‘OK, OK, you’re not a thief and I’m sorry I said it. Now, will you help me before a wind gets up and it blows away?’

I picked some up, deciding that my first thoughts had been right. Clearly this man needed every penny.

‘So now tell me what you’re doing here? Or can I guess? You’re running from Vanner the creep?’

‘Right! And from the other creeps that he wanted me to “be nice” to. This is his dress.’

His lips twitched.

‘I’ll bet he doesn’t look as good in it as you.’

‘Very funny. I jumped overboard to escape him, and now I don’t know what to do or where to go. I need the Consul, but Monaco is so tiny it probably doesn’t have one.’

‘Yes, it does—well, a Vice-Consul anyway. If you like I’ll take you to find him.’

I nearly collapsed with relief.

‘Would you really? Thank you, thank you—could we go now, please?’

‘All right. Just let me—’

‘That’s her!’

The voice came from the darkness, but it was followed at once by Vanner scurrying across the lawn like a black beetle.

‘Get her!’ he shrieked. ‘Arrest her.’

He was followed by two gendarmes who headed for me.

‘Hold on a minute, there!’