The Riviera Connection by John Creasey

it—when my wife is back.”
    â€œBut, m’sieu,” went on Lucille, with even greater earnestness, “he will not send her back until he has the jewels. You can make it very difficult or very pleasant for your wife. It is up to you.”
    Mannering looked away.
    After a long pause, Lucille went on: “The differences in men are strange, John.” She slurred the J attractively, using his Christian name with obvious intent. “Some are miserable without their wives, others”—he didn’t look at her, but could imagine her shrug—”they are overjoyed! You are one of the miserable ones, I can see.”
    â€œAm I?” he asked mildly.
    She laughed at him.
    â€œMost certainly! But I am to make sure that you do not run away, John!” She leaned forward and took his hands. “Help me up, please.”
    He pulled her up. She leaned against him longer than was necessary. They walked along, feet crunching the pebbles.
    Mannering helped her climb the bank to the promenade.
    â€œOf course,” she said, “I have others to help me watch you.”
    He glanced at two men who stood against the wall of a house, across the road. They didn’t look this way. He had seen them outside the Hotel Mirage, without really noticing them.
    Lucille took his arm and they walked back towards the town. The two men followed.
    â€œYou see,” said Lucille, “we are very thorough. Just tell me when you are ready to give us the jewels. I have a room at the hotel, next door to yours. It is all arranged and it is all very simple.” They were walking very slowly; ambling. “You must not make mistakes, like trying to find out where your wife is or anything like that. Do you see what I mean?”
    â€œI see,” said Mannering.
    It was not until he was alone in his room that he felt that he could breathe freely; not until then that the last of the chains were off his mind. The trap had been set so cleverly and the doors behind him seemed tightly closed. But his only trump was the jewels, and they could be used against him, if they were found.
    The same thoughts went through his mind, over and over again.
    First get Lorna; then bluff the rest out. With Lorna safe, he could visit the Villa Chalon, challenge the Count, Raoul, Philippe . . . was it the same Philippe?
    He went to the balcony. The two men whom Lucille had pointed out were on the promenade, ready to follow him. He had been right to wait until darkness before going to the rue de l’Arbre. He couldn’t move the Citroen yet – but must, soon.
    He went over the make-up case and everything he would need for a disguise; sooner or later, disguise would be vital.
    He went downstairs for lunch, then came to an abrupt halt in the hall.
    Two policemen in uniform and a man in plain-clothes stood by the desk. When the head porter sighted Mannering, he pointed, and the three men turned around quickly.
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11
Police
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    As he looked into the pale face of the man in plain-clothes, a dozen fears flashed through Mannering’s mind. Among them was the fact that he had talked to the night porter; that he and Lorna had been seen to leave, late at night; that only he had been seen to come back. There were a dozen ways in which the police might have traced him.
    The man in plain-clothes, flanked by the uniformed police, had a big face, a heavy jowl and heavily-lidded eyes. He looked as if he had great difficulty in keeping awake – until one got close enough, and noticed the bright shrewdness of those sharp eyes.
    â€œM. Mannering?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI am Inspector Flambaud, from the Commissariat de Police.”
    â€œMy pleasure, m’sieu.” Mannering bowed.
    â€œM’sieu,” echoed Flambaud. “You are, I understand, the owner of a shop in London and an expert in jewels and other precious things.”
    â€œAn expert?” Mannering shrugged, deprecatingly. “A dealer,