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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Crime/Gangster · #2139681
dirty deeds done cheap on the Riviera
Majestic, bathed in almost perennial sunshine. A venue for deals. Boats, vintage coins, beautiful women,
arms, all have buyers in Monte Carlo. Most of these deals have to be conducted under tight security, that's
where I come in. You won't find my number in the book. Word of mouth & reputation get me hired. So I have
to be careful.....& lucky.
A friend of mine told me about Andrea. I met him at the Yacht club in San Remo, over lunch. Greasy.....
him not the food. He smiled a lot, so I figure "Va pazza." Sweating too. Hot day may be, but I should have
been wary. Thing is, the job sounded so easy ......at first.
Take his launch around to Monte. Check out the merchandise. Take a picture. If we get an ok, put up the
money & bring back the merchandise.
"So why do you need me? What could go wrong?"
Eros Ramazzotti & some Italian bird were reaching crescendo over the PA. "Adesso tu!"
Andrea still smiling. "I don't want to get robbed and............." He shrugged in that Italian sort of way.
"And what?"
"Err, the merchandise.......it could run." Another shrug.
He raised both shoulders, a slither of spaghetti slid between lips, leaving a trace of tomato sauce.
"Run?" My jaw went south.
Sweat ran down his brow. He swatted it. Leaning forward, intimately, still smiling. "The cargo is um.......
somewhat human."
"Woh!" I shrugged, waved the palms of my hands out in front of me. Christ, I almost turned into an
Italian.
"No one mentioned human trafficking!"
"Mr. Allen, can you really afford to be so choosy in your profession?"
"Yes." I tried to be emphatic, but it may have rung hollow.
"I understand that you were unlucky at the Hippodrome the other night." I shrugged, the question hung in
the air for a little while. Truth be told, I got pretty drunk. Despite knowing zero about Trotting, I got in deep. The
cost of that lesson left a hole.........A great big one.
"I could make that....." He gestured a magic trick with his hands. "disappear." The self satisfied smile was
really bugging me. To be fair, if I took it, it wouldn't be the first dirty job I'd done when needs must. Everything
& anything sells around here. Much of it related to the leisure industry. Big money constantly goes chasing
the next big thrill.

On a beautiful late afternoon, the craft shot out of San Remo harbour. I doubted his competence to
drive it, but said nothing. The tub moaned all the way. Pink & deep blue, the sky prepared for nightfall as
we berthed in Monte. He managed that without terminal damage to the boat. Within minutes we had arrived
at a swanky hotel. I don't think any other kind exists here.
Inviting seafood aromas greeted us as we made our way through the lobby.
"Signor Andrea Rinaldi, Herr Siegal is expecting me." The clerk nodded & lifted a telephone. I started to
review how many ways this could go wrong, but stopped. It got scary. I take risks for a living but we were
in the realms of stupidity here.
Most hotels in this part of the world go for tasteful decoration. This suite, despite costing a packet to fit,
could only be described as gaudy. Too much gold, too many 'objet' screaming "Look at me." Two thugs stood
by a mock fireplace. Two BIG thugs. They would hit very hard but probably not built for speed. A man who
looked like he was part of the room lounged in a great armchair. Gold rings, chains, you know. Aged about
50, dressed about 20. Mock LA gangsta style.
A girl perched on a settee, legs tucked beneath her. She looked very small & wore a cape. The "business
men" greeted each other warmly, handshakes, pats on the back, drinks. The girl directed her stare to the floor,
the thugs directed their stare at the girl. I found a wall to stand in front of.
"We are opening a club in Milano next month, you must come see." Herr Siegal was saying.
"Most kind Herr Siegal." That fucking smile.
It all seemed so false. One offering something he didn't really want to, the other accepting a trip he would
probably never take. They got down to business quickly.
"Now who do we have here?" Andrea rubbed his hands & focused on the girl.
"This is err.....Dominique." Siegal got up & gestured for the girl to do the same. He ushered her to the
fireplace, waving away the thugs. She faced Andrea, Siegal tookher cape. "Voila!"
She stood stark naked. Andrea stopped smiling, both sweaty palms raised to his mouth.
"Bellissima!"
Typically southern French, dark eyes, black frizzy hair, beautiful. Andrea judged her body. Personally I
couldn't fault it. The girl shot him a look of disgust, then stared at the ceiling. Itold myself to concentrate on
threats. That was hard work.
"Were there not two?" Andrea inquired respectfully.
"The other is sadly indisposed." Siegal apologised.
"Oh I love the little girl thing!" Andrea noticed she had no bush. The girl covered her crotch with her hands.
"Come now, don't be bashful. I'm sure we are not the first gentlemen to see you naked." Andreas smile
reappeared, the girl glanced around the room then refocused on the floor.
I found it hard to read her feelings. Mad? Intimidated? Humiliated? I just couldn't pick it up. Andrea took
a couple of photographs & texted. By the time he had drained his tumbler, a message had been returned.
"We have a deal." He said holding out a hand.

I didn't think it possible to pull that much cash out of a wall machine. But I guess this is Monte Carlo.
The transaction went pretty smooth, except when leaving. The girl screamed "Photo." She reached for &
was given an ornate, framed photograph. Two little girls, one slightly older than the other. She clutched
it hard.
We walked down to the harbour, Dominique in just a cape pulled tight to her chest. Andrea fired up the
engines, I cast off & jumped back in the boat. Beyond the harbour wall was a swell, the wind got up. I took
off my jacket & offered it to the girl.
"Va fan cullo!" She threw the jacket on the floor. The first sign of any sort of anger. She looked out to
sea. Andrea could not over hear conversation due to the wind & the engines.
"I'm not feeling good about this....look," I said. "When we land, we'll give him the slip. My cars on the
jetty. I can get you clothes & maybe 2000 euros, it's not much, but right now that's all I can lay my hands
on."
She looked at me with disgust. "Fuck off." Staring out to sea. At some point, she picked up my jacket
& draped it around herself. I shrugged feeling miserable.
Coming into San Remo the last few bars could be seen getting ready to call it a night. Andrea docked.
"Your money has been wired to your account. See us to the car & you can go."
I secured the boat & helped the girl out. For a few seconds, our faces were inches apart. "Last chance."
I thought......but didn't say it. She must have known that. The car park was almost deserted. Just as we got
to Andreas car, he whipped the cape off.
"Beautiful!" He beamed.
I started to say "Come on it's co........"
As I did, she ripped the back off the picture she held, produced a derringer, shooting Andrea, point blank
in the eye. It happened so fast. She turned to me grinning.
"Lucky we had that conversation earlier, or you'd be collateral damage."
She searched Andreas pockets for keys. I held my palms up respectfully/
"Just business." She said. "Siegal thinks the Italians are getting a little too close to his territory. They
have a message."
She got into the Maseratti, wheels spun as it shot through the gate of the yacht club. I guess that sums
up this coast. Near naked murdress speeding through the night, dead petty criminal on the floor & an enforcer
with a badly damaged reputation. None of it unusual in these parts.

END

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