Hello Detective

Gregson Part 5

"Really? That's surprising since you consider women disposable pleasures instead of meaningful pursuits. Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side Mr. Bass, and I hate losing." I said. "Your charm may work on every other woman in this planet, but it won't work on me."

He only smirked and nodded, he loved a challenge. He didn't know how truly broken I was, and that no one alive could fix me.

Our train arrived in Montenegro and a car was waiting to take the two of us to the hotel. A contact slipped Charles an envelop before he joined me in the cab. I raised my eyebrow as he opened in on the drive.

"It's just last-minute details." He said, while reading it. "Apparently we're very much in love."

"Do you usually leave it to porters to tell you this sort of thing?" I joked.

"Only when the romance has been necessarily brief. I'm Mr. Arlington Beech, professional gambler, and you're Ms. Stephanie Broadchester." He said casually, hiding a smirk.

"Jesus, I am not." I argued, while trying to grab the papers out of his hand.

"You're gonna have to trust me on this. We've been involved for quite a while, hence the shared suite." He smirked.

"But my family is strict Roman Catholic, so for appearances' sake it'll be a two-bedroom suite." I smirked back, two can play this game.

"I do hate it when religion comes between us." He smiled.

"Religion and a securely locked door. Am I going to have a problem with you, Bass?" I asked.

"No, don't worry. You're not my type." He answered honestly.

"Smart?" I asked.

"Single." He answered, looking out the window as the car arrived at the hotel.

The two of us exited the car and approached the reception desk to check in.

"Welcome to the Hotel Splendid. Your name, sir?" The receptionist from the five-star hotel asked.

"Charles Bass. You'll find the reservation under Beech." He spoke, arrogantly blowing our cover instantly. Had he no respect for protocol or espionage?

I stormed off the to elevator, leaving him to check in.

"Very funny." I said, "No wonder M thinks you need a babysitter."

"Look, if Le Chiffre is that well-connected, he knows who I am and where the money's coming from. Which means he's decided to play me anyway. So he's either desperate or he's overly confident, but either way, that tells me something about him. And all he gets in return is a name he already has." Bass argued.

"And now he knows something about you. He know's you're reckless." I spoke as the elevator opened and I entered, quickly hitting the close door button before my partner could enter. "Take the next one. There isn't enough room for me and your ego."

That afternoon the two of us met with our Treasury contact, Rene Mathis, for lunch. He was an older man with greying hair and a smooth accent. He informed Bass and I that Le Chiffre had arrived yesterday, and spend the time re-establishing old relationships.

"The chief of police and he are now quite close." Mathis said. "He's the one with the mustache over my left shoulder."

Bass and I both focused our eyes on the man with two woman at his lunch table.

"That could make life difficult." I said.

"And quite possibly shorter. He's not a very subtle man. I thought about trying to buy his services, but we frankly couldn't afford to outbid Le Chiffre." He replied, and suddenly three police cars surrounded the outdoor patio and I raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"So I decided it was cheaper to supply his deputy with evidence that we were bribing the chief. It's amazing what you can do with photoshop these days. I think your odds are improving, Mr. Bass." He said as the police chief was arrested.

Back at the hotel I was in the washroom getting ready in a silk robe when Bass knocked on the door. He entered with a long gown on a hanger and hung it on the back of the door.

"Something you expect me to wear?" I asked.

"I need you looking fabulous. So that when you walk up behind me and kiss me on the neck, the players across from me will be thinking about your neckline and not about their cards. Do you think you can do that for me?" Charles asked.

"I'll do my best." I smirked smugly. He exited the room before quickly returning holding up the dinner jacket I had gotten him.

"I have a dinner jacket." He argued.

"There are dinner jackets, and dinner jackets. This is the latter. And I need you looking like a man who belongs at that table." I said, returning to applying some mascara.

"How the fu-" He stopped himself. "It's tailored."

"I sized you up the moment we met. Don't look so surprised, I told you I'm good at what I do." I said, and he left the room. My smile faded and a memory of Sherlock flooded my mind. I missed being constantly outsmarted by him, it was exhausting being the smartest one the in the room with no one to talk to. Alone in the sky with no way to land, and the only man who could save me was dead.