Sue Lee Mysteries Trilogy: Sue Lee Mystery, #17

By D.M. SORLIE

Villa Adele Murder

In the past, a murder at Villa Adele in 1901 deceives the Monte Carlo commissioner of police causing the death of an innocent man. In 1951, new evidence is disclosed along with lost treasure fortune seekers are willing to kill for.  

Operation Washtub

The Cold War has produced Russian invasion fears in Alaska. To prepare, the FBI is secretly training civilians to transmit enemy movements. The flaw is the vast Alaskan wilderness is rich in minerals, leaving room for corruption and murder during Operation Washtub.

Caribbean Gold

Bahama sunshine, palm trees, and the bright blue Caribbean sea is a perfect destination for a Christmas party for "Island Art Inquires." Including a fun treasure hunt for Spanish Doubloons that turns deadly. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Enchanted Island Publishing
• Release date: Dec 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393165699

D.M. SORLIE

D.M. is a native Arizonan living in Scottsdale, traveling has inspired several of his books throughout the years, including historical fiction, especially with a mystery thrown in.   Sue Lee Mysteries started after visiting an antique shop in Honolulu with the purchase of a vintage World War Two recruitment poster for women to serve. It was haunting knowing all the possibilities open for woman during those perilous times.   

Book preview

PROLOGUE

1951, MONTE CARLO

David McGregor, the Pinkerton National Detective from Chicago, hurried to the rear stairs to avoid disturbing the party-goers by running up the Grand Staircase. He passed the kitchen, noticing the pretty maid standing by the window with her back to him. At the top of the stairs, he found the library door was unlocked. David knew there was a circular staircase going down to the floor below. He turned, dashing back down the stairs, running to the library where inspector Victor stood talking to the officers.

Sir, the upstairs door is unlocked.

Without hesitation, Victor took the key from the guard, quickly unlocked the lower library door; they could see the open office door.

While Victor and his men investigated, David checked the crowded reception area. The maid was the only person near the grand staircase, again serving a guest. He started back when a sudden thought occurred to him. There are two of them? He turned, running back to the kitchen, grabbing the other maid’s arm about to open the back door—yelling out the window at an officer in the garden, Stop that man!

Inspector Victor Raoul came running into the kitchen, followed by his two officers.

Sir, there are two maids, twins, and the beekeeper; your man is holding is their compliance! We must stop the other twin from getting away—She’s by the grand staircase!

David opened the outside kitchen door where an officer had an arm hold on the beekeeper, who suddenly jerked free, pushing when a gun went off. The imposter slumped to the ground with blood soaking the front of his beekeeper suit. The sister, Victor, held started screaming!

Chapter One

BLACKMAIL

1901, MONTE CARLO

General Stanton paced around the patio at Villa Adele as he smoked his pipe, trying to remember the guest playing cards. He calms to be Habib Baba, but he is not—Habib Baba was in the casino last night, and I’m sure I’ve seen this blighter before, but where? I spotted him right off. Was it India or somewhere in the Asian sector? Where was it now, ah yes, the North Africa campaign, Sudan? That’s it; He was under observation, considered to be a German spy. The General paused in his thoughts to listen to the laughter coming from inside as he passed the card room. Sounds like they are wrapping up their game.

His pipe went out—he fussed to relight it while gathering his thoughts. I spent my career chasing around those horrible countries for the British Empire, ending with nothing but a meager army pension; it would suffice if I stopped gambling; last night was a loss I could not afford. Of course. There is that possibility he may know I’m not a general. Blimey, I was lucky to become a Lance Corporal. If he knows, I will just walk away. If not, I know from the past blackmail can be very lucrative. He blew smoke out into the cool night air while thinking about snaring his prey.

I need to word it right. Start by telling him the real Habib Baba was at the casino, similar to what I said to the General’s wife who was impersonating someone else, caught her cheating, I did. He heard the scraping of chairs, knowing the card players were leaving the gaming table.

Ah, here he comes. We need a bit of privacy; it is best to be on the darker side of the patio by the pool should do, Monsieur, a word, please.

The last thing Lance Corporal, a.k.a. "General Stanton, saw as he pushed away from his attacker was the hilt of the knife in his chest, shining in the moonlight!

Chapter Two

INVITATION TO SOLVE A MURDER

1901, MONTE CARLO

La Commissioner de Police of Monaco, Paul D’amour, reread the invitation left on his desk after finishing the other correspondence.

You are invited by La dame, Marie Adele, to the Grand Opening of Villa Adele Hotel.

secretary interrupted him by reminding him he had a meeting in five minutes. While walking past, he handed her the invitation. Please confirm this for me.

He had known Marie since she was a little girl visiting her grandparents during the summer. Apparently, immensely wealthy, according to word on the street who worked on the Villa’s massive refurbishing. Paul was told it would cater to high-end gamblers from around the world.

I bet she is using her Grandparent’s list of friends who frequent our Monte Carlo gaming tables. If so, she is sly; it will be wonderful to see her again. When he entered Victor Raoul’s office, his number one commander, Paul, set his thoughts aside.

What do you have for me, Victor?

Sir, the location of the murder is all wrong. It was staged.

Please explain, Paul said, setting his cane aside as he attempted to lower his large frame onto the small-office chair. I hate these chairs.

Oui, I tried to requisition a larger one, but no one listened. Victor politely waited until the Commissioner was settled in—Let me show you my reasoning, he said, unfolding a map of Monaco. We found the body here and assumed he was murdered there. It’s his shoes, you see—this is a sandy area. The only indication of sand is on his heels.

Like he was carried and then dragged to that spot, but from where, Victor?

He is a new guest registered at Villa Adele, sir.

And you think that is where he was murdered?

Oui, Madam Adele was in her last stages of construction, and the pool deck was being painted. Again, I refer to his shoes. Do you see the lighter color on the sole Commissioner?

I see. Do you have a list of everyone living or staying at the Villa?

Victor produced a sheet of paper from his desk and passed it over. Observing as the Commissioner read through the names. Paul’s complaint about the chairs throughout the station was ongoing since he was such a big man, tall with broad shoulders, unruly black hair, and very distinctive bushy eyebrows. They looked like one when he frowned like he did now.

I recognize the staff and, of course, the family, but I don’t know the five guests, nor have I seen their names associated with our gaming. Wait, Habib Baba, the name is familiar. Perhaps he is on our gambling list? He paused and looked again at the report. Mr. Lucky?

Oui, an American from, Victor quickly checked his notes, New Jersey, no first name on the hotel registry.

I’m sure the Villa is chaotic days before the fête. Do pop over tomorrow morning and discreetly ask a few questions. It is to our advantage not to let anyone know they moved the body. Again, Paul looked at the names. And Victor, make it a point to learn more about Monsieur Lucky.

Chapter Three

MISSING GUEST

1901, MONTE CARLO

John Bonnaire took a moment to straighten up his daughter Sasha’s room before going downstairs to start his day as director of Hotel Villa Adele. He looked around their spacious living quarters to see if anything else was out of place. Sasha was very fussy about her appearance and tidy with her things. She wanted to prove she could care for her father ever since mommy went to heaven to live. That sad event was two years behind them.

Sasha was now five years old with tangled blond curls. She wanted to cut them off, but after being told they were like her mother’s, she proudly tied colored ribbons to them every morning.

The staff here loved her and took turns providing the colorful strip of material, especially the assistant cook Alice, who enjoyed making the little decorations to attach to her hair ribbons.

Sasha now had other responsibilities that started in the morning to take Madam Adele’s dog Moon for a walk.

Soon, Sasha will start school close to the Villa. I’m sure she will find a way to perform her duties. She is so much like her mother, John sighed before descending the stairs.

Inspector Victor Raoul was at the bottom of the staircase, waiting in the lobby. John knew he worked directly under Paul D’amour, who was invited by Madam Adele to the fête, an old friend of the family John was told.

I wonder if they found General Stanton. The inspector will probably tell me he got into a poker game with a few of his old cronies and lost track of time, which is easy to do in this small corner of paradise. John bowed respectfully and replied, Bonjour, what brings you to us so early this morning? Have you found the General?

Oui, unfortunately, he is dead. He was found down by the port. Can you tell me anything about his last night at the hotel?

Chapter Four

MARIE ADELE

1901, MONTE CARLO

Marie was in the library when John told her about the police inquiry.

Madam, I asked him to wait to talk to you before involving our guest.

Thank you, John. Please direct him to my office; I’ll meet with him there, and please tell the cook our meeting will be delayed.

Yes, Madam, should I ask her to prepare a tray?

That sounds wonderful. I’m famished.

Marie placed her grandfather’s papers back into the desk drawer and paused before locking it. Her library was open to the guest. However, her journals were not. Marie decided instead to put them in her office safe.

She had been reviewing her Grandparent’s documents since moving into the Villa. Her father and grandmother would arrive tomorrow to live with her.

Perhaps Grandma can answer my curiosity about Grandfather’s papers. Why was he so obsessed with the Ottoman Empire?

Father was now officially retired, according to Granny’s letters. Her son was eager to move back to his childhood home. Mari recalled Grandmother’s last message before she and her father left New York.

Honestly, he will more than likely bury himself in books. He has been such an avid reader, just like my Joseph.

Marie set those thoughts aside as she walked to a private backdoor to her office. She designed to escape into her favorite childhood place, Grandpa’s library.

Victor sat patiently in Madam Adele’s well-furnished office, surprised to find the décor, more in a bold style, with pictures he assumed was the snowbound Klondike. Two items caught his attention. A pistol and a leather belt of shells mounted on the wall inside a glass case below it, a short barrel shotgun more freely displayed.

I wonder what the story is behind those formidable weapons?

Since he had never met Madam Adele, he had been briefed by the Commissioner—apparently; she made a fortune in gold-mining shares during the Klondike gold rush. He wasn’t sure what to expect. Perhaps a cowgirl, Victor was always fascinated with stories of the American wild west. I suppose those days are over now? He sighed just as the back office door opened. Victor looked up at a woman of such beauty walking into the room, carrying several folders of files. He quickly stood, Madam, please let me assist, he reached to help her set the enormous pile on her desk.

Merci beaucoup inspector, she held out her hand. I’m Marie Adele; forgive me for my casual appearance. We are still putting the last touches before the grand opening. I’m very saddened by the death of General Stanton; how can I be of help to you?

Victor was a traditional Victorian even though the styles were changing away from the norm—however, Knickerbockers tucked into high leather boots. An old wool sweater topped off her clausal attire. She looked fabulous! Marie’s black hair was pulled back into a bun, and her golden eyes matched her darker olive complexion.

Victor had trouble finding his voice.

I-if you have the time, Madam Adele, d-did you know General Stanton?

No, he was on my grandfather’s gambling club list. I assumed he was a friend of my Grandparents. However, I never had the chance to discuss it with him.

Are there more friends of your family also invited?

Yes, all but one; My Grandmother will be here with my father tomorrow. I wanted to surprise her with a few of her old friends. Perhaps my father too.

Did the General associate with others here last night?

I retired early; I was exhausted. Habib Baba and Mr. Lucky were playing cards. The General was on the terrace having a smoke. A tap on the door interrupted Mari. John entered with a tea tray filled with jam and croissants. Thank you, John. Please join me, Inspector; I have not had the time for a proper breakfast. Your visit made that possible. Tea, or do you prefer coffee? But I warn you, my coffee is strong. After many long nights during the Klondike winter, I became a coffee drinker when the sun only rose for several hours.

I prefer your American coffee; the stronger, the better. It would be fascinating to learn about your time spent in the Klondike. The two guns, are they part of that adventure?

Yes, the elephant gun was our bar shotgun used to calm aggressive patrons. The miners were a rowdy bunch.

I see, and the pistol?

That’ one is my personal gun. You don’t belong in the Klondike without one. I know it’s large, but wearing it in a holster with a gun belt around your waist is intimidating. Especially when I was singing. If I sensed it would be a rowdy crowd, I added a bandoulière full of cartridges. Marie said, using the French version for Victor’s benefit.

He accepted the cup she offered while reviewing his notes—Madam Adele’s stories were spellbinding. Victor could spend all day listening but reluctantly needed to get on with his investigation. Monsieur, Mr. Lucky, is he also a family friend?

Now that one is a puzzle. Mr. Lucky showed up with a letter of introduction, evidently a shirttail relative of the principal real-estate developer of Monte Carlo. Are you familiar with Punto Banco, the North American version of baccarat? Apparently, he is a champion of some sort? The letter was from, Marie took a sheet of paper from her desk drawer while holding part of a croissant in her other hand, father Rossi, a Priest from Roma.

Oui, that is strange.

Inspector, was there foul play involved with General Stanton?

I’m not at liberty to discuss our findings, madam.

"Victorian standards be damned! We are talking about the survival of my hotel; if something is going on—I want to know?"

Chapter Five

FOUL PLAY

1901, MONTE CARLO

Victor considered his answer just as a giant white dog walked in and sat down next to Madam Adele, looking directly at him with the bluest eyes. A small girl who hurried to keep up reached up to pet his neck.

Madam’s voice became softer; Sasha, this is Victor Raoul. He came to visit us. Victor, this is Sasha Bonnaire. You met her father. Sasha is my early morning helper. I don’t know what I would do without her?

Sasha smiled proudly, walked over, and held out her tiny hand.

How do you do, Sir. This is my friend Moon, who suddenly stood by her side like a sizable silent sentinel.

Marie watched while the inspector made small talk with Sasha; he initially seemed unprepared for all the questions she was asking; perhaps it was the presence of Moon. Marie knew how protective she could be. He seemed to relax when he heard Sasha talk about her morning.

I wonder if he is married? He is a handsome man. She guessed his height compared to her five feet six inches. He was at least three inches taller, the right size for an inspector, commanding but not intimidating. His eyes are blue, and he has blonde hair. It seems out of place with his dark mustache. Marie also noticed his clothing. His tailored suit fit his broad shoulders well. The shirt looked clean; Marie always judged men by their collars; if dirty, it told her the man was sloppy and didn’t care. Victor Raoul was not one of those men. She assumed from his appearance that he was a thorough investigator. But I wonder if he can dance?

A tap on the door, and John entered to take away the tray and shorten Sasha’s conversation, reminding her it was time for her breakfast.

If you are finished with your questions, I will conduct a tour for the inspector and introduce him to our guest?

Yes, if you are finished, inspector? I will be here working if you have further questions. I will have John send you and your wife an invitation to our gathering under the circumstances. It would be prudent to have more than one police officer at our ball, don’t you agree?

Oui, of course; however, I am not married. Victor stood and bowed, respectively. He was glad to leave with Sasha leading the way, not having to divulge any more information to Madam Adele. John turned before following and said softly, Madam, a package has arrived for monsieur Stanton. It is at the front desk. I assumed you wanted to know before the inspector. He said, looking down the hall as his child steered the inspector into the kitchen to meet the staff.

I see. Yes, normally we are informed by the guest when they expect delivery, but in this case….? Her voice trailed off, I will go, look. Thank you, John.

Marie could hold the small package in her hand, but it was heavy. The weight must have caused this tear, Moon; maybe I can peek inside? She held it toward the sunlight reflecting from her center lobby dome. This looks like a woman’s coin purse. I smell strong perfume. Wait, I see a piece of paper. She turned over and probed inside the package with her finger. Oops, it tears easily. Well, who’s going to care? She tore a bigger opening and pulled out the coin purse and a small envelope. Whoever this is, they like strong fragrances, whew. She opened the coin purse before becoming overwhelmed by the smell. Gold coins, British, if I’m not mistaken. Now let us see what is in this envelope.

This is the last of it—you bastard asked for more—I will have you killed!

I think it’s time to have a word with the evasive inspector again. This certainly looks like foul play to me. Come along, Moon; we will see what he has to say?

Chapter Six

MR. LUCKY

1901, MONTE CARLO

O kay, all right, Joey, calm down; all I know is the guy has not been in his room all night.

Where the hell is he?

Maybe he’s with a dame; how should I know? He’s an Arab. He probably has a whole Harem.

We paid you to watch him, not lose him. Did you search his room again?

Of course, I searched his room, nothing was missing, the suitcase, all the sheets he wears. Everything is still in place, like yesterday. I tell ya, Joey, he hasn’t been back.

Keep watching; I gotta go send a gram to the boss. If that Ay-rab shows his face, sit on him until I return, got it?

I’ll order another cup of Joe, he said to the retreating back. I don’t like dealing with that guy. He is a little creepy, and I’m sure he is connected to the Italian mob.

It startled him out of his thoughts when a large man stood by his table. May I join you, Monsieur—My name is Paul D’amour. I am the police Commissioner of Monaco; you are Mr. Lucky—I presume?

Lucky nodded yes, still startled by the big man’s sudden appearance.

You see, Mr. Luckily, Paul said, looking down with an intimidating frown. It would save us both time if we could talk now in this lovely setting instead of my office, don’t you agree? He signaled the server for a cafe.

Yeah, sit; the weather is glorious out here; who likes to be in a stuffy office?

My assistant tells me you are from New Jersey; he also mentioned you are quite good on the gaming tables?

I won a few times in a contest. It was fixed, but this guy didn’t need to know that. I always wanted to play at this casino.

I wish you the best of luck, Monsieur Lucky.

Hey, he’s not a bad guy; maybe I can hit him for a few tips on how to beat the casino. He must be on the take, dressed like that; that cane alone must cost a fortune. Naw! I best keep my guard up. Thank you, sir; how can I be of help?

My sources tell me you have been waiting for Habib Baba to return. Is he a friend of yours? The inspector did not want to divulge that his source was a five-year-old with unruly curls and such pretty ribbons?

Jesus, how did he know that? Well, no, but he knows the tables here—I thought he could give me a few tips—He’s friendlier than the other guest.

Paul watched his nervous body movements as he talked; his answers were quick like someone had questioned him before. Paul also noticed his clothing, well-dressed but cheap. How can he afford to stay at the Villa?

Is gaming your source of income or pleasure? now, the body movements increased.

Hobby, my business is real estate.

Paul doubted that but knew Mr. Lucky showed up with a letter of introduction—evidently, a shirttail relative of the principal real-estate developer of Monte Carlo. It was followed by a second formal recommendation submitted by father Rossi, a Priest from Roma. Seemed like a strange connection. However, the Monte Carlo casino had strict rules on who could use the high-end gaming tables. Paul also knew the developer made substantial contributions to the church of Rome, but who else in Italy benefited?

As he sipped his cafe, Paul noticed Mr. Lucky was becoming more agitated, waiting for his companion to return. Or did he not want me to meet the gent who left? Paul waited a little longer before asking, Am I interrupting an appointment, Monsieur? You are expecting someone?

Naw, I was just waiting for the casino to open.

Ah, a man of leisure. I envy you to have so much time on your hands waiting for the casino bell at seven this evening.

Seven, oh yeah, do you have any more questions?

You played cards with Monsieur Habib Baba the night General Stanton died. Did you hear or see anything unusual?" It was a leading question. Paul knew the answer would be no, but he wanted to study his reactions again.

No, we were busy playing. He’s good—it took all my concentration to keep up.

Did you both retire after the game?

I did. Still a little beat after all the traveling, Habib Baba went out for a smoke. All the paint on the walls in the card room is fresh; the owner asked if we would please smoke on the terrace.

You did not go outside, only to your room, and that was the last time you saw Habib Baba?

Yeah, it was the last time I saw the General. You reckon Habib did him in and took a hike?

"I beg your pardon. Do you mean killed