Commissaire Marquanteur And The Great Collapse: France Crime Thriller

By Alfred Bekker

Commissaire Marquanteur And The Great Collapse: France Crime Thriller

by Alfred Bekker

 

 

A new case for Commissaire Marquanteur and his colleagues in Marseille!

Hacker attacks are common all over the world, but crippling Europe's entire energy supply is a very ambitious plan. However, this very plan is brought to the attention of Commissaire Marquanteur and FoPoCri, whereupon a feverish search begins. However, anyone who knows anything will be killed mercilessly - and the clock is ticking!

Alfred Bekker is a well-known author of fantasy novels, thrillers and books for young people. In addition to his major book successes, he has written numerous novels for suspense series such as Ren Dhark, Jerry Cotton, Cotton Reloaded, Kommissar X, John Sinclair, and Jessica Bannister. He has also published under the names Neal Chadwick, Jack Raymond, Jonas Herlin, Dave Branford, Chris Heller, Henry Rohmer, Conny Walden, and Janet Farell.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alfred Bekker
• Release date: Oct 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223269151

Alfred Bekker

Alfred Bekker wurde am 27.9.1964 in Borghorst (heute Steinfurt) geboren und wuchs in den münsterländischen Gemeinden Ladbergen und Lengerich auf. 1984 machte er Abitur, leistete danach Zivildienst auf der Pflegestation eines Altenheims und studierte an der Universität Osnabrück für das Lehramt an Grund- und Hauptschulen. Insgesamt 13 Jahre war er danach im Schuldienst tätig, bevor er sich ausschließlich der Schriftstellerei widmete. Schon als Student veröffentlichte Bekker zahlreiche Romane und Kurzgeschichten. Er war Mitautor zugkräftiger Romanserien wie Kommissar X, Jerry Cotton, Rhen Dhark, Bad Earth und Sternenfaust und schrieb eine Reihe von Kriminalromanen. Angeregt durch seine Tätigkeit als Lehrer wandte er sich schließlich auch dem Kinder- und Jugendbuch zu, wo er Buchserien wie 'Tatort Mittelalter', 'Da Vincis Fälle', 'Elbenkinder' und 'Die wilden Orks' entwickelte. Seine Fantasy-Romane um 'Das Reich der Elben', die 'DrachenErde-Saga' und die 'Gorian'-Trilogie machten ihn einem großen Publikum bekannt. Darüber hinaus schreibt er weiterhin Krimis und gemeinsam mit seiner Frau unter dem Pseudonym Conny Walden historische Romane. Einige Gruselromane für Teenager verfasste er unter dem Namen John Devlin. Für Krimis verwendete er auch das Pseudonym Neal Chadwick. Seine Romane erschienen u.a. bei Blanvalet, BVK, Goldmann, Lyx, Schneiderbuch, Arena, dtv, Ueberreuter und Bastei Lübbe und wurden in zahlreiche Sprachen übersetzt.

Book preview

1

I'll kill you, said the man sitting across from me in the meeting room of Les Baumettes prison.

Yeah, sure, I said.

Right now, it's a little difficult, but someday, I'll kill you!

They got the maximum penalty.

I know.

Life imprisonment followed by preventive detention due to special gravity of guilt.

You got me into this, Marquanteur. But I'll get out of here someday. I swear to you.

It doesn't look that way right now.

Not at the moment. But I have plenty of time.

Time you're going to spend in here.

First of all, yes. But my lawyers are good, they'll find a way. Eventually. Doesn't depend on a year. Not even ten. But when I'm out of here, you won't be safe. And I know that from now on you'll think every day that one day I'll be standing on your doorstep, Monsieur Marquanteur. But when that time comes, it will be too late ... He leaned forward a bit, then continued, If you think I'm going to hire someone to take care of that, you're mistaken.

Like this?

I have enough people who would commit murder for me at any time. All I have to do is snap my fingers. No, they would even just read the desire to see someone dead from my eyes. I wouldn't have to say anything at all.

Rest assured that I will take care of myself, I returned.

As I said, you don't have to worry at all in that regard. Because this thing with you is something I want to take care of myself.

You don't say...

I want to enjoy the moment when you realize that my prophecy will come true and I will kill you.

I'd like to talk about the criminal network you were a part of.

You want information?

You cut up the daughter of your main drug supplier and sent her to him in pieces, I stated. Somebody is really pissed at you now, which I personally can understand.

It happens - in business.

Only in your kind of business.

What do you want?

If you help me, you may be helping to save your own life.

He laughed. I don't believe it, he said.

I can't believe this.

That the guy who put me here in this hole and who I want to kill as soon as I march out of here wants to help me save my life!

What do you say?

Screw you, Marquanteur!

Perhaps you will reconsider. Because unlike you, the one whose daughter you dismembered has no qualms about sending someone to bump you off. His people are already here in Les Baumettes. He doesn't even have to send them. He's probably already given the order to do so.

The conversation is over, Monsieur Marquanteur. Then, addressing the guard present, he called out. I want to get out of here!

Not every call goes favorably.

This was an example of how things can sometimes not go so well.

My name is Pierre Marquanteur. I am a commissaire and part of a Marseille-based special unit with the somewhat cumbersome name Force spéciale de la police criminelle, or FoPoCri for short, which deals primarily with organized crime, terrorism and serial offenders.

The hard cases, that is.

Cases that require additional resources and skills.

Together with my colleague François Leroc, I do my best to solve crimes and dismantle criminal networks. You can't always win, Monsieur Jean-Claude Marteau, Commissaire général de police, often says. He is the head of our Special Branch. And unfortunately, he is right with this statement.

*

He smiled.

Behavior only, but he smiled.

In his case, it looked more like a predator baring its teeth.

I've heard that you can pull something like this off silently, said the man in the red silk tie. A black rose was embroidered on it. His face was gaunt, his chin shaped like a V. The eyes seemed hawkish and cold. They were as gray as his hair.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a brown envelope, which he then handed to the man who had taken a seat next to him on the park bench - somewhere near the Malinaux country house restaurant in the Parc de la Ville.

The other man was wearing a jogging suit and looked a bit sweaty. He carried a knife in his sleeve. It was in a leather sheath that was attached to his forearm with straps. The sunlight reflected off the smoothly polished steel. With a quick movement, the man with the knife had opened the envelope. A few photos were inside.

Consider it done! the man with the knife said. These people are as good as dead already.

That sounds good to me.

Dead, I say. Dead as a doornail.

That's what I wanted to hear, said the man in the red silk tie. His smile looked pained. Things are hurrying, though.

As soon as your deposit is received in my Swiss bank account, I will spring into action, the other replied. He put the knife back into the sheath on his forearm and covered it with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

I'm counting on you.

You can.

I have one more personal question.

I'd rather not.

"Were you really in the Foreign Legion or is that just what they call you - the Legionnaire?"

The man in the sunglasses turned over one of the photos. On the back was a name: Christophe Martin. In addition, a few personal details that were essential for the execution of the order. The legionnaire tucked the photo behind the others and moved on to the next one.

I think I know everything I need to know now. And so do you, by the way.

Just asking, said the man in the red silk tie.

I'm not going to tell you anecdotes from Africa.

As I said, it was just a question.

I can't stand that kind of questioning.

All right. Accepted.

Good.

The legionnaire stood up. He stuffed the envelope into the fanny pack he was carrying. Then he put the earplugs of his iPod back in. The music was so loud that even his counterpart could listen in: Highway to Hell.

If possible, don't make any more contact with me! the legionnaire said a little louder than was actually necessary, which was probably because he already had the earplugs in. A red-haired teenager, who had just jumped off his skateboard and then picked it up to check something on the wheels, was already looking over at them a bit irritated.

The legionnaire started walking - like someone who had just sat down on the bench for a moment to take a deep breath and recharge his batteries.

The man with the red silk tie looked after him. As he did so, his grip on the automatic in the pocket of his cashmere coat loosened. All the time he had been talking to the man he knew by the alias Legionnaire, he had been clutching the gun, even taking the safety off. It was just better not to trust certain people. Quite possibly, the problem solver ended up being the problem himself.

But the man with the silk tie had thought of everything. At least that's what he believed.

2

I stopped the sports car at the side of the road to pick up François at the familiar corner. My colleague stifled a yawn as he joined me in the car.

But I was no different.

Didn't get much time to sleep last night, huh?

You said it, Pierre.

We had spent half the night taking part in an observation. On a remote industrial wasteland in the east of Marseille, a drug deal was about to go down, as we had learned from an informant. This had presented us with an opportunity to take a fairly important figure in organized crime out of the picture here in the south of France for many years to come. However, he had kept us waiting for a long time. Our colleague Stéphane Caron, who had been in charge of the operation, had almost decided to call it off.

But then the man we had all been waiting for had shown up after all, and we had struck.

The exchange of drugs for money had been carefully documented on video, so that in the end everything was legally watertight. What followed now was the usual tug-of-war in court. François and I would also have to make our statements there. But apart from that,