He hadn't intended to kill her. In fact he hadn't meant to see her again. Just leave her a note saying it was all over between them. That they’d had some profitable years together but now it was time to call it a day. Time to move on.

But the problem was that Claudette knew too many secrets about him and his past. About the drugs he peddled and the people he’d swindled by getting them to invest in one of his property deals. And the men he’d blackmailed by threatening to tell their wives about their extra marital sexual activities, complete with explicit photographs.

That was where she came in. Claudette. Flattering the fat business men. Convincing them that they were still sexy enough to get her into bed.They just couldn’t resist that French accent; that look of childish innocence; the baby face that appealed to middle-aged males who were convinced she was barely fifteen years old whereas she was actually twenty-five.

He first came across Claudette on a business trip to Paris. He’d noticed this beautiful young woman hanging around the bar at the hotel and he knew immediately what her profession was. The oldest female profession in the world.

She was very attractive in a petite French way, but she didn’t make the most of her face and her figure. The way she dressed was too brash, too tarty – vivid red high-heel shoes, dyed blonde hair and a tight skirt that revealed too much. The traditional outfit of the prostitute. But Colin Jackson could tell that beneath all the heavy make-up was a virginal face that would appeal to the macho instincts of men who would want to comfort and possess her.

So he took her in hand. Taught her how to dress with style. Introduced her to the ‘smart’ people with influence and money – the people who followed the European circuit in Paris, Geneva, Monte Carlo, Rome, London.

And to add that extra touch of style he bought a pale blue Rolls Royce which she kept in a private garage next to her apartment in the more fashionable part of the city. The car came complete with her own personal chauffeur, George, whose job was to transport her from one sexual encounter to the next.

Apart from being an excellent driver, George was also an ex-convict and a fearsome bodyguard. His job was to protect Claudette and keep an eye on her. But Claudette sensed that there was more to it; that George would report back to his boss anything suspicious about the people she met and the places she visited. George was both her guardian and her jailer and would do whatever Colin Jackson commanded, especially as Colin supplied George with drugs for his own use.

Colin called the team the Brains and Beauty Trio. His role was to appeal to the sense of greed among people who wanted to make money quickly. Claudette’s job was to appeal to the sense of lust among men who were old enough to be her father or even, sometimes, her grandfather. And George was there to provide the protection and the strong-arm stuff.

For the past five years things had gone really well, with just the occasional problem. Then a major crisis arose when a well-known television celebrity died from a drugs overdose while he was with Claudette in the back seat of the Rolls Royce.

George had managed to get the body back to the man’s house where it was discovered the following day. The newspapers covered the story for a couple of days, but in the end it was assumed the man had died at home from an accidental overdose. The story disappeared from the newspapers but the police still regarded it as suspicious and wanted to trace the source of supply of the drugs.

‘We’re going to have to take things easy for a while,’ Colin told Claudette.

‘What do you mean by that?’ she asked. ‘A month? Two?’

He hesitated. ‘Maybe six months or so.’

For a moment Claudette kept quiet, then she asked, ‘Are you trying to tell me we’re finished? It’s all over?’

‘No. Just that we have to lie low for a while. We’ve had a good run. And you’ve made plenty of money.’

‘And taken all the risks.’

His voice hardened. ‘Just remember who turned you from a cheap whore into a wealthy madam. Remember who introduced you to the right class of people; the people with power and money.’

‘Yes, and I also remember who organised all the drug dealing, including the drugs you sold to the guy who died in the Rolls. I’m sure the police would be very interested to hear the full story.’

‘Are you threatening me?’ Colin asked angrily.

‘No. Just reminding you how much I know of your operation. In case you decide disappear and leave me to face the police alone.’

‘Now why would I do that?’ He tried to smile at her but she ignored the smile.

‘Because you’re a two-faced bastard who always takes care of himself. That’s why you employed George to keep an eye on me and make sure I didn’t double cross you or go running to the police.’

Exactly the same thought had gone through Colin’s mind. ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t be so foolish.’

‘Are you? And how about George? Are you sure about him too?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just that when he’s high on the drugs you give him he could say or do anything. Including murder. And if he thought you were leaving him to face the police alone then…’ She paused. ‘Need I say more?’

She could see the apprehension in the man’s eyes. ‘You haven’t told him, have you?’ he asked anxiously.

‘Told him what? That you were thinking of deserting him? Running off with his share of the money -- and mine too?’

‘Now you know that’s not true, Claudette. I wouldn’t do that to you or to George. It’s just that I need to be out of the country for a couple of months until this all blows over.’

‘Do you think George will believe that?’

‘Do you?’ he asked.

She gave a cynical laugh. ‘Not for a moment. He may be a bit slow but he’s not completely stupid.’ She paused for a second then said. ‘But maybe if I tell him he’ll believe it. He listens to me. I’ll say you have to go to Paris on business for a few days, but you’ll leave him a supply of drugs for himself. Enough to last until you get back.’

‘Yes…that should keep him quiet.’ The tone of Colin’s voice had changed from apprehension to relief.’ And you’ll come with me to Paris?’

‘Of course. I’m looking forward to being back in France again. It’ll be a nice drive.’

Suddenly the thought of having her close to him was appealing. It would keep her away from the British police and he could keep an eye on her. It would also make it easier to get rid of her, permanently, when the right time came.

When she returned to Colin’s apartment two days later she was driving the Rolls Royce.

‘I take it George isn’t available?’ Colin said casually.

‘No. He started on the drugs you sent him and was in no condition to drive. So it’s just you and me now.’

‘Fine. That makes things a lot tidier.’

It was an odd word to use, but Claudette knew exactly what he meant.

They spoke very little as Colin drove along the motorway heading South towards the docks at Dover. He seemed quite relaxed now that he was escaping from the problems of the past few weeks. Occasionally he glanced at Claudette as she lay with her head resting against the leather seat and her eyes closed.

What an amazing woman, he thought to himself. The face of an angel and the sting of a scorpion. He’d been right to select her as a partner all those years ago, but now she had outlived her usefulness. Such a pity but c’est la vie as her French countrymen would say.

As that beautiful car headed down the steep hill leading towards the docks, he could see the large boats anchored in the harbour awaiting their passengers. He leaned across and gently touched Claudette’s arm.

‘We’ll soon be there. Have you got your passport ready?’

‘I thought we didn’t need passports now we’re all part of Europe.’

‘It’s just a formality. To stop illegal immigrants and potential terrorists.’

‘So the place will be crawling with police and security guards?’

‘Just relax. They’ll take one look at the car and realise what respectable people we are.’

There was a long line of cars waiting to pass through the security check area and Colin noticed the hand-guns being carried by police and guards. Slowly, very slowly, they moved forward as each separate car and each individual passenger was carefully vetted.

‘This could take some time,’ Colin said anxiously as they moved forward a few yards.

‘Well, I’m afraid I have to go to the ladies room.’ Claudette announced.

‘The what?’

'Toilet.’

‘Right now? Can’t you wait?’

‘No. Sorry. I’ll be back before you reach the entrance gate.’

Colin was about to say something but Claudette was already out of the car and heading for the area marked ‘Toilets’

Over the next twenty minutes the car moved closer and closer to the security check gates. At each movement Colin looked through the rear-view mirror, expecting to see Claudette hurrying to join him.

But she wasn’t.

He was about to get out of the car to look for her when he noticed a security guard holding a dog on a tight lead. And the closer the dog got to his car the more agitated it became, sniffing the ground. It was obviously trained to detect drugs, but Colin never carried drugs with him so he tried to relax. But just as the guard reached the car, Colin glanced in the rear-view mirror and glimpsed the back-view of a woman walking away from him and away from the docks. He wasn’t sure if it was Claudette. It could have been. Possibly? Perhaps?

But there was no time to check.

‘Please step out of the car, sir,’ said the security guard politely. And Colin watched as the dog became more agitated when the guard eventually opened the large boot of that beautiful blue Rolls Royce and found the drugs hidden inside the coat pockets of a heavily-built man who had been dead for about 48 hours.

From a vantage point in the restaurant close to the dock, a petite French woman saw the police surrounding an elegant blue car and watched as they lead the handcuffed owner away for further questioning.

She knew that they may not be able to accuse Colin of murder as they would later find that the victim had died of an overdose of drugs. But they would want to know where the drugs came from and why they were of such a type that would guarantee a fatal overdose. And they would certainly want to know how the man’s body got into the boot of such an elegant blue Rolls Royce.

The petite onlooker stayed for another few seconds then whispered ‘Au Revoir Cheri’ as she turned and walked slowly away.