Chapter 1: Chapter 1: I don't believe much in such things

Chapter Text

Once upon a time there was a Detective Sergeant working for the French Police in Paris and she was quite happy. She had a good job, she had managed to get out of having to run her mother's bar, 'La Kaz', in Saint Marie, in the Caribbean, where she came from.

That night she had met Julie, Aurore, and Isabelle.

It was a very cold night, almost mid-December, when she asked her friends Julie, Aurora, and Isabelle to meet her at a new bar for drinks.

Isabelle commented:

"You know, Camille? It's funny that you disown your mother's bar so much, you've chosen one with reggae music again. but I like it!"

Camille takes another sip of her beer and replies:

"Of course I love Caribbean music and traditions! But that doesn't mean I love being tied down to a small-time bar on a small-time island! Besides, there isn't a single McDonalds or Burger King! And there aren't too many Chinese restaurants either..."

Aurore laughs and tells him:

"You and your concept of healthy food delight me."

"Yes, I know your family has a farm with chickens and such, dear Aurore. And that it has taught you to cook beautifully, but I have no intention of starting a family anytime soon, let alone cooking for any man."

"Are you saying that for me?" Now it's Julie who speaks.

Since recently she has been dating Luc, as she says, the light of her life. A temperate, funny man, very fond of Dashiell Hammett's crime novels and other such authors, he even writes, and very well, his own stories!

Camille replies:

"What makes you happy doesn't have to be the same for everyone. The man who wants to have me by his side has to be someone who likes my lifestyle. My father abandoned my mother with absolutely no regard for what she did for him, no regard for the fact that he was leaving behind a young daughter. No man will ever do that to me."

Aurore comments:

"You want someone who likes change and excitement. Who likes travel and spicy food. Who can dance almost like a pro. Don't you think you'd get bored right away with someone so much like you?"

Camille shrugs. It's two-thirty in the morning on a cold and very, very brisk Friday morning. It will soon be the Christmas holidays. Last year she was spared from having to travel to Saint Marie to spend them with her mom. This year she doesn't think she will be so lucky.

"My psychic says that my life is going to take a 180 degree turn. That my heart will give out to someone totally unexpected. Evidently that doesn't go well with a traditional, settled man. Who knows. I'm not much of a believer in such things."

Julie returns to the charge:

"I don't believe much in all that either, Camille. But I do think that when you're thinking about it so much, deep down what you're feeling is that all that stuff you said earlier doesn't make you as happy as you think it does. I think what's going on is that you're holding a grudge because of what happened to you with your father and you don't want to risk trusting anyone."

At that moment Julie is petrified. She didn't mean to be so direct. Aurore looks at her in astonishment. Julie also realizes that she had been upset by what Camille told her earlier about Luc.

Camille is speechless.

A stranger with intriguing green eyes approaches the table occupied by the four girls with some haste.

"Excuse me, I didn't mean to disturb you ladies, but I dropped my cell phone and it's under your table. I'm waiting for a very important call."

Then Camille turns around and is quite startled. Just for a second. She hasn't told her friends that the psychic had described a specific man. And that description matches the man who is interrupting their conversation.

"Sure. Just a minute."

And the four girls look under the table for a state-of-the-art cell phone. To their surprise what Isabelle retrieves is a 20th century battered and scuffed cover cell phone.

"Here you go." Isabelle hands the phone to the unknown with amusement in her eyes. "Your latest generation phone."

"Of course, the latest generation of the 20th century." Answers the man with a charming half smile. "I've always thought that a phone, of whatever kind, should only be used to call and receive calls. At most, send messages."

"Of course." Half-jokes Camille, humoring him, "we're not chronically ill people always hooked to a machine." She has unwittingly repeated what she has been told many times by her maman, referring to the addiction that exists with cell phones.

"I totally agree with you, mademoiselle. By the way, my name is Richard Poole. I'm in Paris for work and thought I could use a break from so many meetings."

Without realizing it, he has sat down next to them. Julie has managed to steal a chair from another table.

Camille makes the introductions, "This is Aurore Tremblay, a friend of mine. She is Julie Peruvians and I am Camille Bordey, I am a detective with the Police Nationale. And this is Isabelle Durand."

Richard senses a warning in the words. What Camille is telling him is that he should not think he is talking to four helpless damsels.

"Funny, I am a Detective Inspector of the Met in London. Precisely why I'm here, I'm teaching some courses. And, incidentally, I'm attending some Police Nationale courses."

Camille is astonished.

Richard takes his time to observe the four women. Especially Camille. Commissioner Patterson was right. She would be an invaluable acquisition.

"Detective...Bordey, isn't it? I think it would be a very good idea for us to exchange phone numbers. Please, I'm not asking you out on a date. I was just wondering if it would be possible for us to exchange professional experiences at one of the last talks or meetings I have to attend. The truth is that I have not yet had the opportunity to listen to a woman detective with your rank and experience."

Flattered, Camille writes her phone number on a piece of paper to the one who seems to be against technology as he hands her his. Of course, on a sheet from a notebook he had tucked away in an inside pocket of his jacket. This jacket belonging to a perfectly clean and pressed suit.

"Thank you very much." He comments as he gets up from the table. "I'm going to enjoy what's left of my tea. I hope you have a good time."

He, on his way to his table, recalls that, fortunately and for once, he had the necessary quick reflexes, and apparently enough charm, to prevent any of the women from noticing how the mobile phone had ended up under their table. He was getting too close to their table to try to overhear part of their conversation and the object slipped out of his hands.
He certainly makes a lousy undercover cop...

And, when he is left alone enjoying his tea, he recalls how he was recruited by a strange man from Saint Marie who seemed to know many things about him.