Читать книгу BAD MOOD DRIVE - Douglas Alan Captain - Страница 7

Capitaine Frank Duval, chef de police in Corsica, was in

a bad mood. The island was overcrowded with plenty of

summer tourists who were incapable of holding onto their

passports, their wallets, or their children. Complaints had

come streaming in all day long to the tiny police

headquarters at 2 Cours Napoleon off Rue Sergent

Casalonga.

"A man snatched my purse ..."

"My ship sailed without me. My wife is on the board…"

"I bought this watch from someone on the street. It has

nothing inside ..."

"The drugstores here don't carry the pills I need …"

The problems were endless. And now it seemed that the

capitaine had a body on his hands. "I have no time for this

load of shit now," he shouts it out. "But they're waiting

outside," his assistant informed him. "What shall I tell

them?"

Capitaine Duval was impatient to get to his girlfriend.

His impulse was ready to say, "Take the body to some

other island,” but he was, after all, the chief police official

on the island.

"Very well." He sighed. "I'll see them briefly."

A moment later, Captain Bargas and Donald Herman

were escorted into the office.

"Sit down," Capitaine Duval said, ungraciously. The two

men took chairs.

"Tell me, please, exactly what happened."

Captain Bargas said, "I'm not sure exactly. I didn't see it

happen ..." He turned to Donald Herman. "He was an

eyewitness. Perhaps he could explain it."

Donald took a deep breath. "It was terrible. I work ...

worked for the man."

"Doing what, monsieur?"

"Bodyguard, masseur, chauffeur. I run to save him, but

there was nothing I could do. I called for help. Ambulance

came in. But it was too late. He was killed by auto accident."

"I am very sorry." He could not have cared less. Captain

Bargas spoke up. "It was accident but now we would like

permission to take the body home."

"That should be no problem." He would still have time

to have a drink with his girlfriend before he went home to

his wife. "I will have a death certificate and an exit visa for

the body prepared at once." He picked up a yellow pad.

"The name of the victim?"

"Robert Stanley."

Capitaine Duval was suddenly very still. He looked up.

"Robert Stanley?"

"Yes."

"The Robert Stanley?"

"Yes."

And Capitaine Duval's future suddenly became much

brighter. The gods had dropped blessing in his lap. Robert

Stanley was an international legend! The news of his death

would be repeated as an echo around the world, and he,

Capitaine Duval, was in control of the situation. The

immediate question was how to manipulate this event for

the maximum benefit to himself. Duval sat there, staring

into space, thinking.

"How soon can you release the body?" Captain Bargas

asked.

He looked up. "Ah. That's a good question." How much

time will it take for the press to arrive? Should I ask the

yacht's captain to participate in the interview? No. Why

share the glory with him? I will handle this alone.

"There is much to be done," he said regretfully.

"Papers to prepare …" He sighed. "It could well be a

week or more."

Captain Bargas was appalled. "A week or more? But you

said..."

"There are certain formalities to be observed," Duval

said sternly. "These matters can't be rushed." He picked up

the yellow pad again. "Who is the next of his relatives?"

Captain Bargas looked at Donald for help.

"I guess you'd better check with his attorneys in Los

Angeles."

"The names?"

"REYNOLDS & FRANK HAROLD ATTORNEYS AT

LAW."