Chapter 101

I arrived after things had settled down a little.

By now Elastic's inspector, as we still called him, was here and had taken charge of the situation. The Politicians in Paris were taking an interest in the affair; they didn't want anything to upset my investments in the regeneration of Paris' northern suburbs.

Another car pulled up and a well-dressed man stepped out. His florid features didn't disguise his rage at what he saw.

"What's going on here?" he demanded to know. "Release my men immediately!"

Elastic, the police officers, and I turned to look at him. I'm sure that there were more than a couple of smiles as we saw the little red laser dots dancing on his chest.

"WELL!"

"And who are you?" The inspector asked.

"I am Sir James Montcloud, Admiral Montcloud. Those are my men." He spotted the body being loaded onto a gurney.

"My God, someone's murdered one of my men. Who did that?"

"The circumstances of the death are what I am investigating now," said the Inspector.

"A local, are you? Well I suppose I'd better take over now." Montcloud looked over at the Chateau. "I'll set up my headquarters in the house," he pointed to the Chateau.

Montcloud's aide de camp, had been scurrying round actually talking to the people already here. Then he noticed the laser dots on his boss's jacket. "ADMIRAL! BITCHSLAP!" he shouted while throwing himself on the ground.

The admiral too, dived to the ground. 'Bitchslap' was obviously a code word meaning some form of danger. The aide started to hunt round for cover, and to try and spot the source of the laser designators, the Admiral though, just lay there, hands over his head quivering.

After a few moments, the aide noticed that we were all just standing around staring at him.

Unnerved by the silence, Montcloud also looked up and saw that we were watching him, possibly wondering what he'd do next.

I was now almost surrounded by my girls, and they looked angry.

"Hummph..."Montcloud stood up. "I'm going to the house." He turned to his aide, "I'll speak with you later, danger indeed."

"No, he is quite right, you are in danger," I said quite clearly. "Over-watch, take out the blue car," I said quietly.

The Admiral's car jumped backward as two Barrett rounds smashed into the engine of his transport.

"He was right, Montcloud, you were in danger. You are in more danger now. You have three rifles aimed at you right now. The riflemen mean business. To them you're just a target."

Montcloud stared at me, his look filled with hatred.

"Come, Andrews, we'll go to the house." He said through gritted teeth.

"Didn't you hear me the first time? You aren't welcome in my home." I was seething.

He pulled himself up, "I have to investigate this murder," he replied, "And I will commandeer that house if I see fit."

I strode towards him until we stood nose to nose, my girls either side of us, all of them ready to rip this idiot to shreds.

"You," I poked him in his chest, very hard, "Have no authority here." I poked him again. "You, will NOT set foot in my home. You, will not even set foot in the grounds. You are not wanted here, so go away. NOW!"

He was beetroot red now, "I will do as I please. I am an Admiral in the Royal Navy, and my orders will be obeyed. And I DEMAND to know who murdered Fleet Chief Grey."

"Your officer was killed in self-defence after he threatened an unarmed female marine who was the guard at this guard post. I have inspected the video of the incident, and am inclined to recommend to the inquiring magistrate, that she be commended on her skill in defending herself and those she was here to guard," said the inspector stiffly.

"Now, Admiral I want to know why your man had a loaded firearm and why he threatened Marine Tomlinson with it?"

"His gun wasn't loaded," called one of the men still on the ground.

"Arrr ... in that case, he is still alive, as he was shot dead by his own weapon. We saw that on the video and we will prove that with the ballistic tests." The Inspector had had enough now.

"Rubbish, patent nonsense. I didn't give him permission to draw ammunition..." interrupted Montcloud.

The inspector turned to him, "But you ordered him to carry a hand-gun, didn't you?"

"Yes," Montcloud, blinded by his own sense of authority, didn't see the danger that he was getting himself in.

"So the dead man was acting under your orders?" the inspector continued.

"Of course he was!" Montcloud was now almost beyond reason, furious that his obvious authority wasn't being accepted. "None of my men do anything except on my specific orders."

The inspector stared at him for a long, long time. "Please, could you repeat that last sentence Admiral?" The last word dripped sarcasm.

"I said that none of my men do anything except on my specific orders. Are you deaf or stupid, eh?"

The inspector sighed, "I am neither, However," he grabbed hold of Montcloud's upper arm, "I arrest you in connection with the armed assault on Marine Sheila Tomlinson."

Montcloud looked at him in disbelief. "You can't arrest me! I won't allow it." He took two steps backward.

"Are you resisting arrest, Admiral?" asked the inspector.

"Don't be stupid man, you aren't arresting me, that's preposterous."

The inspector turned to me, "Baron, Please may I borrow a couple of your ... special girls?" he asked with a smile.

"Alison, Jill, help the inspector." I replied.

They stepped up to the Admiral.

"Admiral," said the inspector, "I suggest that you place your hands behind your back and allow these ladies to place these handcuffs on your wrists." He pulled a set of handcuffs out of a pocket and gave them to Alison.

"Admiral," said Alison holding out her hand.

"FUCK OFF, BITCH!" shouted Montcloud.

About two seconds later, he too, was handcuffed face down on the ground, though he was forced down onto the hard road surface and suffered grazes and abrasions.

I walked over and squatted down beside him, "That was a major mistake, calling one of my girls a bitch. You will apologise or I shall make you sorry that you ever thought of coming here.

"ANDREWS! Andrews, tell these fools who I am, make them let me go. Andrews!" Montcloud was not listening to anything but his own thoughts and ideas. In Montcloud's world he was the top dog and everyone did what he told then. He was having a very serious case of reality at the moment. I think that it hurt him.

I stood again. Montcloud had made an enemy. My girls are precious to me and I'll defend them against anyone who tried to abuse them.

We watched as the Inspector walked slowly to his car, Alison and Jill, dragging Montcloud behind them. I was amused to see that they pulled the arrogant prat by his ankles too.

Andrews watched as his Admiral was dragged away. He didn't try to move. Umber stood directly in front of him and he'd already found that moving was painful when she stood there.

"Can I go now?" he asked with exaggerated politeness.

"When my Master gives permission," answered Umber.

"Yes, arr ... thank you." I suppose he didn't really know what to say.

"Phone," I called, holding out my hand.

A phone was given to me immediately.

I dialled.

"Weston," came the reply.

"Aggie, I've got a solution for your joint military school project," I said.

"And what's that?" he asked.

"Make Elastic FONT. Simple."

"And what about the current FONT? What do we do with him?"

"Oh," I said casually, "Don't worry about him. He's just been dragged off to jail."

"WHAT!"

I pulled the phone away from my ear.

"Mind me ears, Aggie," I said.

"What's this about Montcloud being dragged off to jail? I know he's an arrogant prick, but that's no reason to jail him."

I explained what had happened.

"Oh well," said Aggie with a sigh, "I suppose being an arrogant prick was a reason to jail him. I'll let the First Sea Lord know. He's going to go ballistic. Anyway, I thought I told you to go and play with your slaves or something, not stir up this kind of trouble." Aggie hung up.

I must have been looking pensive as I stood there. I was thinking about Elastic, a joint Anglo-French training centre and a training ground. I was happy to have the Finishing School in my grounds, but nothing more than that.

"I see you have a problem, Baron."

I was jolted out of my thoughts by the inspector.

"Yes, I'm wondering where I can put a large military training school." I replied, actually grateful for the interruption.

"Well there's an old unused reservists training ground about 30 kilometres from here, have you had a look at that? The Mayor has been trying to sell that for years."

The old training ground was on 1200 hectares of the worst ground I'd ever seen. Thick brambles gave way to almost absolute desolation. Swampy ground abutted a huge rock outcrop. It would be a nightmare just to get from one side to the other.

It was perfect.

A poor farm abutted this land. While the farm wasn't doing well agriculturally, it was perfectly placed to provide access to the old training grounds. And, I could see from the state of the fields, the farmer hadn't started to prepare the land for planting. These two would be perfect.

I caused a stir when I arrived at the Hotel de Ville.

"Oh, Baron!" said the flustered clerk. "Come, Le Marie he in. Come."

She led me to a large ornate room. A single desk had been placed underneath a large painted landscape.

A small man was working at the desk.

He looked up, then his eyes opened in surprise. "Le Baron!"

He stood, holding out his hand he said, "Baron, welcome to our small community. I am Jean-Paul Silviece, the mayor."

We shook.

"Baron, while I have wanted to meet you for a long time, now that you are sat in my office, I find myself nervous. What can we do for you, Baron?"

"I'd like to purchase some land..." That's as far as I got.

"Mon Deiu, our prayers have been answered. You wish to extend the Martinè estates to include our tiny community, Baron? We wondered ... no, we hoped and prayed that you would look this way when you were gathering lands to your north." He shrugged, "Martinè is seen as something of a paradise. Together your community can purchase the large farm machinery that makes your crops so much cheaper; you have the assistance of your experts. Your land management is first class. We long to be welcomed as part of Martinè, we will do our share of the work, our share and more. Ha!" he gave a short, almost barking laugh, "If we just did our own share it would seem to us like a holiday." He looked serious now, "No Baron, you will find us a strong, willing, hard working, community. We will make you proud of the day you came here. This I swear." He stood and bowed, actually bowed to me.

I was dumbfounded. Gobsmacked.

I thought furiously for a couple of seconds, then smiled.

"Mayor Silviece, I hope that you realise that some changes may not be exactly what your people would be expecting."

"Baron, we are expecting this community to die. My people hope and pray that you can change their expectations."

I nodded. I hadn't really been looking around me as we drove here. I would be more observant on the return journey.

"Is your town solicitor available?" I asked.

"Mai oui, I shall call her immediately." And he did, the call only took a few seconds. Jean-Paul was looking happier and happier, the more we spoke. After the call he smiled at me. "Baron, please to take the coffee?"

"I would like a cafè au lait, please." I too smiled. Smiling can bring some quite unexpected bonuses.

He hurried to the door, opening it almost caused the four or five ladies who'd been trying to listen in on our conversation, to fall into the office. I hid my smile this time.

Jean-Paul gave hurried orders and the ladies scurried away.

We had just taken our first sips of the, quite mediocre, coffee when the door opened and a short, dumpy lady entered.

'The solicitor, ' I thought.

Jean-Paul and I stood and helped her get settled. He briefed her on our conversation so far. Well, what he thought had been our conversation anyway.

The woman turned to me, "Forgive me Baron, I am Analise Silviece, the solicitor for this small community. As you might guess, Jean-Paul is my husband." The two looked at each other with the comfortable loving look of the long-term married.

She took out a large, yellow, legal notepad. "First of all Baron, may I have the name and address of your solicitors?"

"Certainly, Ms Sasha Dempsey, Dempsey, 4 Lincoln's Inn Fields, London." I answered with a certain amount of pride.

Analise went a little pale. She and her husband spoke rapidly in French for a while. Then Jean-Paul turned back to me. "Baron, Analise does not think that she can properly represent us against people of the calibre of Madame Dempsey, and..."

"And you do not have the funds to pay for proper legal representation. Ummm ... This is a difficult problem. I cannot just lend you the money to pay, because that would give you a conflict of interest. Anyone can see that."

I shook my head. Analise, shamed at not feeling herself able to represent her people, was being swamped by my argument. She too nodded in agreement.

"If the community owned some land that I could buy, then you would have the funds that you require." I suggested.

Analise jumped up, "Yes! There is, there is a farm and it is next to Martinè." She went to a large framed map on the wall and pointed out a marked farm. It wasn't the farm I'd been interested in, but it did abut onto both Martinè and the old training ground.

"What's that place?" I asked, pointing at the dark lined area I knew to be the training ground. There were only three properties which actually abutted Martinè, the farm I was being offered, the training ground and the farm I'd seen.

Jean-Paul was silent for a moment. He pointed to the farm I'd seen, "Baron, this farm is also for sale. If you bought both, we would give you the centre property for just the owed taxes." He smiled at me.

I tried desperately not to laugh, after all he was the mayor of a poor town. He had to do the best that he could for them. If that involved ripping off a benefactor, he would do that with a clear conscience.

I paused for a moment, as though thinking. Actually, I was trying not to jump up and down in delight.

"A quarter of the back taxes." I responded.

Jean-Paul pretended to think for a moment. He was in a difficult position. He wanted me to buy the whole community. But they needed cash now. "A quarter of the back taxes will be fine Baron."

We shook hands.

"Now, how about I give you say... €200,000 as a deposit and we'll let Madame Silviece and the people at Dempsey sort out the details." I smiled again, not too shark-like I hoped.

"That will be perfect, Baron," Jean-Paul answered.

I wrote out the check, I really must remember to ask Nigel if there has been any progress on me buying a bank. I really could use my own bank now.

Thanking the Mayor and his wife, I returned to the car and my ride back to the Chateau. I would need a proper agricultural survey done of this area, Geological as well, I thought. I also need to get some more maps, I smiled to myself. Martiné was growing. Soon it would be twice the size that it was.