Note to Readers: Reading previous chapters will help understand the characters and plot line. This is a work of fiction and any similarity to real people is unintentional.
Nice, Cote D'Azur, South of France, Monday Nov 6, 1978.
Doug Anderson had moved to Europe in the summer of 1978 for work. His head office was in Geneva, but most of his time was spent in the south of France. He kept an apartment in Nice, 5
th
largest city in France, gateway to Italy and a hotbed of crime and corruption.
The Cote D'Azur was the playground of the rich and famous. Rock stars, Hollywood legends and faded European royalty all lived there. From Cannes to Monaco, there was always a party going on; and always a seamy undercurrent of criminality persisted. Smugglers, drug dealers, con men and prostitutes were everywhere.
Nice was its capital and for Doug, a transplanted Canadian from Montreal, it was a great place to be.
Doug was 6'3" tall blue eyed and blonde, with a trim body honed by years of competitive swimming. At the age of 27, he still swam to stay in shape and had a very impressive physique with broad shoulders, slim waist, and very strong legs. He was also the proud owner of a very large, fat 10-inch cock that the super tight jeans of the day did little to hide.
It was a quiet Monday morning, Doug was sitting at the bar of the café next to his hotel drinking coffee, reading the paper and chatting with the owner Henri. Someone came in and Doug was astonished to see Mario, the attendant from La Floride Beach Club walk up to the bar.
Doug was about to say hello when he noticed Mario give him a hand signal meaning "NO". He slid past Doug around the corner of the bar where he wouldn't be seen from the street.
Mario ordered an espresso; Doug went back to his paper. Henri served the coffee and moved towards the kitchen.
"If you gentlemen are ok, I'll be in the back cooking. Shout if you need anything."
As soon as Henri was gone, Mario reached into his shirt pocket and produced a small velvet pouch.
"Monsieur Dooglas, I think you know about this kind of thing. I need your help."
Henri spilled the contents of the velvet pouch onto the countertop. It was a single exquisite diamond, princess cut, probably 5 carats in size. Doug looked closely, noticing the colour and clarity.
"Mario, this is an exceptional stone. Where did it come from?"
"I think you know Monsieur Dooglas. Think about it."
Instantly, it came to Doug.
"Le Casse?"
"Exactly."
Le Casse. Le Casse du Siecle. The Heist of the Century. On July 19, 1976, a gang of thieves broke into the vault of the main branch of the Societe Generale Bank on Rue Jean Medecin in Nice. They had taken three months to drill through 26 feet of concrete to get there.
Breaking into the vault on a Friday night, 15 thieves calmly and methodically rifled 317 safety deposit boxes. They had a portable stove and judging by the leftover wine bottles, tins of food and baguette, they ate well.
Leaving early Monday morning they had taken about $36 Million dollars worth of cash, securities and bonds. They left the jewellery, thinking it was traceable. Before leaving the thieves welded the safe door shut and wrote on the walls "Without Weapons. Without Violence. Without Hate."
The thieves were never found, same for the money. The prime suspect was arrested and agreed to tell all to a high ranking official. At that meeting, the thief jumped out an open window onto an awaiting motorcycle and escaped. That same official was indicted for corruption a few years later,
That was how things worked on the Cote D'Azur in the late seventies.
"Mario, how did you come by this stone and what do you want?"
"My friend was in on the Casse. He pocketed this stone during the heist. He's been sitting on it for over two years. The bosses haven't paid out the takings from the heist. They say things are too hot. Now people are disappearing or dying."
"My friend is afraid and wants to get out before he too falls under a bus. He has a passport and this stone. I told him I knew someone and so here I am."
"What does he want?"
"He wants $5,000 American dollars, no questions asked. He will disappear."
Doug though for a moment. The stone was obviously worth much more than $5,000, probably more like $100,000. Doug could pay for the stone out of the company's petty cash account. It was there for exactly this type of situation.
Doug could repay the petty cash account and stash the stone in his personal safety deposit box. The safety deposit box at his bank in Geneva, not the Societe Generale in Nice!
It came down to ethics, but Doug knew he wanted to build his personal portfolio of diamonds. He could add this stone to the one from the Rinauld sisters, all he had to do was fly to Geneva and get the cash.
"OK Mario, I can help you. Come back here 9:30 Monday morning. No conversation, I give you an envelope, you give me the stone. We never met. If I'm not here the deal is off."
"Monday it is. Thank you Monsieur Dooglas."
Mario downed his espresso, threw a few coins on the counter and left. Doug continued reading his paper.
A few minutes later the formidable Madame came into the restaurant, walked up to the bar and called for Henri. He emerged from the kitchen and gave her a hug and the traditional kiss on both cheeks.
"Louise, how are you?"
"I'm very good Henri, can I have an espresso please."
Henri served the coffee and the two friends chatted amicably as Doug watched. It was one of the few times he had ever seen the formidable Madame out in public, interacting with people. She was animated and lively, far from the dour and grim hotel proprietress he was used to.
Her appearance was also different. No more the dark unflattering uniform of the front desk. She was wearing a stylish beige knee length pencil skirt, nylons, high heels and a form fitting white blouse. Her hair was tucked into a bun, showing off an elegant neckline. She looked good!
"Thank you for the coffee, Henri, I must go. Lisette is away, so I need to clean some rooms. See you tomorrow."
Turning, she gave Doug an award-winning smile.
"Have a nice day Monsieur Dooglas."
Henri and Doug watched her leave the café, admiring the view as she sashayed out.
"She is an incredible woman n'est-ce pas Dooglas? Smart, good looking and she owns her own business?"
"Henri, I don't understand. Most of the time she is so serious and grim, and then today she's this vivacious attractive person."
"Ah, you must understand how she got to this point. She had it tough for many years. Her husband died young leaving her to run the hotel by herself."
