Missing Dad 5

J Ryan

Description

'The past can cast long shadows.' Missing Dad Book 5: Justice deals with the tragic murder seventeen years ago of Lisette, wife of the charismatic and mysterious French aristocrat Christian Rochelle, who has become more of a father to Joe than his own dad. Joe and Becks set out to solve the mystery of who was the accomplice who let the murdering Contessa da Palestrina into the ultra-secure Chteau L'Etoile? It is a quest that will take the teenagers close to a terrible death on more than one occasion, as they journey to Surat, the Indian diamond-cutting capital of the world, and onwards to Naples, riddled with its casual murders and mountains of toxic waste. But it is in the seas off the Northwest coast of Scotland where the story reaches its terrifying climax. We're heading relentlessly for the world's third largest whirlpool, on board a ship loaded with smuggled missiles, with a nuclear power plant that is going into meltdown.

Sujets

• Children's

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 12 juin 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781838599607
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 3 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2018 Jane Ryan

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

Matador
9 Priory Business Park,
Wistow Road, Kibworth Beauchamp,
Leicestershire. LE8 0RX
Tel: [phone]
Email: [e-mail]
Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador
Twitter: @matadorbooks

ISBN 9781838599607

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd


Contents
Chapter 1 Call From the Shades
Chapter 2 The Dark Towers
Chapter 3 Blood Lust
Chapter 4 Inferno
Chapter 5 Spider in the Web
Chapter 6 North by Northwest
Chapter 7 What They are Not Expecting
Chapter 8 The Full Force of the Law
Chapter 9 A Diamond is Forever
Chapter 10 The Brillianteer
Chapter 11 Toxic
Chapter 12 Think Like Your Enemy
Chapter 13 Into the Whirlpool
Chapter 14 Zeitgeist


Chapter 1 Call From the Shades
The past can cast long shadows. Getting Dad back after all those years was the most amazing thing that had ever happened in my entire life. But it was a journey that showed me what terrible pain one human being can inflict on another. And now that we’re all here in Monsieur’s beautiful Château L’ Ētoile, I’m all the more aware of the tragedy of his young wife, Lisette, who was so cruelly taken from him seventeen years ago.
The woman who poisoned Monsieur’s wife was drowned in that violent Mediterranean storm. But I still feel cold fingers on my neck every time I think of her. And I remember the terror of my throat closing up when she poisoned me. The certainty that I was going to die.
Monsieur saved my life down there in the Paris catacombs. He was like a father to me, all the time I was looking for mine. Each time I look at the picture of him with his wife in her wedding veil, I can feel his pain. And those cold fingers, like snakes round my neck.
***
One Saturday morning, I’m sprawled in one of the big leather armchairs in Monsieur’s study, revising for my Italian exam. It was Tommaso, my newly discovered, half-Italian cousin, who got me into Italian when we all started at the college in Aix. I thought, well, he can speak English so brilliantly – but it would be great to be able to talk to him in his native language.
All the same, I’m ready for a break when Monsieur comes in with two coffees. ‘Va bene?’
‘Si.’ I take the coffee gratefully. ‘That’s good timing, Monsieur.’
He sits down next to me and takes a sip of his coffee. ‘Where are the others?’
‘They’re all done with their exams. Arnaud and Becks are taking Tommaso and Talia riding in the Camargue.’
‘Are they experienced riders?’
‘Talia said she’d done some riding when she was at her boarding school in Switzerland.’
‘And I imagine that Tommaso will pick it up very quickly.’
‘Oh he’s a fast learner, Monsieur. I guess he had to be in the Camorra.’
He nods, murmuring, ‘For a young man who has spent most of his life in that darkness, he is remarkable.’
‘We couldn’t have got Dad back without him.’
‘Have you heard from your parents recently?’
‘Had a text from Mum this morning. They’re pony trekking in Peru for the next couple of weeks!’
‘And Jack? How is his jazz tour going?’
‘He’s in Cologne at the moment. Look …’ I lean over and get YouTube up on the lap top. And there is my little brother on his sax and the rest of the college band, blasting out a Latin number to a cheering audience.
With his characteristic half-smile, Monsieur puts down his cup. ‘So it would seem that everyone has places to go except you, Joe. How would a touch of sea air suit you?’
***
Inside the purring Bentley, heading down towards Marseille, I quickly glance across at Monsieur. He’s gazing at the road ahead, but there’s something on his mind. I wonder if it’s the stealth ship loaded with munitions that gave the Navy the slip off the Northwest coast of Scotland. Just after Dad had taken the casually murderous arms dealer Aquila out of circulation for a very long time to come.
‘Have you heard any more about those dudes who hijacked the Ariadne, Monsieur?’
I know then that it’s not invisible ships he’s thinking about. He seems to come back from a long way off. ‘The Salvatore father and son will be seeking to liquidate their investment. The question is, where?’
All the rest of the drive, I leave Monsieur with his thoughts. Half an hour later, we’re walking along the pontoon to where the Lisette is moored in Marseille Old Port. And I’m tingling all over. The sea is an even deeper blue than the sky, where there are just a few fluffy clouds. The white hull of the Lisette moves gently on the water.
Monsieur swings himself easily onto the deck. ‘The forecast is Force 3 to 4, dropping towards evening.’ He goes down into the cabin for life jackets and harnesses. I start to uncoil the mooring, ready to cast off.
Twenty minutes later, we’re approaching the lighthouse, on course to avoid the rocks, and I take the wheel as Monsieur hoists, first the jib and then the main. There’s that wonderful Crack! as wind force takes over from the engine. And this mighty yacht takes flight.
For a while we just sail on towards the blue horizon. Then Monsieur turns to me, his grey eyes preoccupied like they were earlier. ‘I don’t think I ever told you, Joe, that Lisette had a brother. Olivier. We were both in the network together. It was through Olivier that I met Lisette.’
He twitches the wheel to keep the main filled with air. His voice betrays no emotion, but I know how hard it must be to talk about memories that have tortured him for so long. ‘After Lisette was murdered, her family cut off all contact with me. They blamed me for her death. And they were right to.’
I couldn’t forgive myself.
The wind is stiffening and veering. ‘We will need to go about, Joe. Jibe!’ I let the main swing across as the Lisette makes an elegant turn. The wind is on our backs now.
‘Yesterday, I received a letter from Olivier. He says his parents are now dead. He wishes us to meet.’
‘Some kind of … reconciliation, Monsieur?’
His eyes are on the far horizon. ‘It may be. Whatever his purpose, I cannot refuse him.’
‘But this is a man who has hated you for seventeen years, Monsieur. Why would he want a meeting now?’
‘It could be that, while his parents were alive, he respected their wishes for all communication to be severed. And now …’
I can hear the uncertainty in Monsieur’s voice. And despite the sunshine, I’m starting to feel cold. ‘Were you very good friends … before …? What’s he like?’
His grey eyes look directly at me. ‘Olivier de Montaubon was a difficult man to get to know, Joe. He could be charming. But always, beneath the charm, there was a sense of … danger.’ He turns back to the horizon.
Those icy fingers are on my neck. ‘What was he like to work with?’
‘Let me put it this way, Joe. When I worked with your father, we knew we could rely on each other totally, in the most extreme situations. It was not the same with Olivier.’
‘So … you think he could have some kind of ulterior motive in wanting to meet with you again?’
‘Yes, he could. After all those years of hatred and blame, I don’t see how it could be otherwise.’
‘So – don’t go, Monsieur!’
He shakes his head. ‘I cannot refuse my brother-in-law. Not when I failed so completely to protect his sister.’
We’re approaching the walled harbour. At a nod from Monsieur, I take the wheel and turn the Lisette into the wind while he lowers the main and then the jib. And I really hope I’m not speaking out of turn here. ‘Monsieur, the security at L’ Ē toile is really good. How was the Contessa able to get in?’
It’s some seconds before he answers, while he deals with the sails. His voice is as tight as a wire. ‘The perimeter security system had been switched off.’
***
At dinner, everyone who’s at the château gets together round the table, eats good food and compares notes on the events of the day. Monsieur is closely engaged in conversation with Grandad and looking at photos on Grandad’s phone of a particular bird he’s spotted in the grounds of the château. Little Madame de L’ Ē tang is listening and looking on, when she’s not gently organising the incomings and outgoings of plates and dishes. Talia and Tommaso are tanned and animated after their riding exploits, and Michel has come back with them from the Camargue. He and Arnaud are discussing a climb they want to do at Les Baux tomorrow – the extraordinary haunted citadel, where Arnaud found refuge after his flight from the drugs baron Bertolini.
Becks is just finishing a second helping of ratatouille, when I nudge her. ‘Any chance you could help me revise for my Italian exam?’
She nods, her mouth full, and mumbles, ‘In the study?’
‘How about the garden? Some more fresh air would be nice.’
After coffee, I grab my tablet and we stroll past the fountains and on through the woodland walk. Becks takes the tablet. ‘Is it just the highlighted words you want to go over?’
‘That’ll do for a start. But first, there’s something I want to talk about with you. About Monsieur. That’s why I didn’t want to use the study.’
‘You’re being very mysterious.’
‘It