Confusing numbers

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confusing numbers

After a two hour drive the two SUVs arrived at the bank, located in the west of Paris, in La Defense, a quarter of predominantly high rises, one taller and wider than the other. The ladies walked up to the entrance, with Aramis and D'Artagnan following behind them, while Porthos and Aramis stayed with the cars.

Inside the bank, Constance went over to the reception desk to announce them. After a ten minute wait a short round man came around a corner and hurried over to the group. Aramis rose from where he had been sitting and moved closer to Anne.

"Ah, Madame, we have been informed of your unexpected arrival. Unfortunately we have to tell you that we cannot grant you access to your cousin's files." The man cleared his throat.

D'Artagnan smiled slightly. The poor guy had beads of sweat on his face and kept wringing his pudgy fingers - not exactly an imposing figure. And Aramis' looming presence didn't seem to help matters either.

Anne wasn't deterred by the dismissal. "Well, my assistant has called you and scheduled this appoint ment and I have a letter from my cousin, giving me full authorization."

On cue, Constance handed the man the letter in question. "Now please escort us upstairs, we'd like to start working," she said, not liking the way the man wanted to dismiss Anne so easily.

Now D'Artagnan rose as well. The man, visibly nervous by now, kept his eyes glued to the ground. "I am sorry, Madame, but you need a specific document, signed by your cousin, the king, in our presence."

"Well, this looks like a futile discussion, Madame." Aramis had turned slightly towards Anne so that their faces were rather close. Anne glanced up at him and for a moment silence reigned, before Anne reminded herself of the place and the circumstances and cleared her throat. "I think we will come back tomorrow. Please have the document ready by then, as well as a room for us to work in."

D'Artagnan pulled a small walkie-talkie out of his jacket pocket and contacted Athos to let them know that they would go back to the cars now.

"Very well, Madame, I will see to it right away. Have a nice day."

-----

Back at the cars D'Artagnan opened the door for Constance. "So, where do you want to go, now that the plans for today have changed?" he asked.

"Is there a good restaurant around here?"

"I know a very good Italian restaurant which I can highly recommend."

Anne was delighted about the idea and had Constance reserve a table for six while they were on the way.

The restaurant was in a small side street in the heart of Paris. Due to a special parking permit they quickly found a parking space. The restaurant itself was cozy and inviting, furnished in traditional Italian style. They were led to a large table and had a relaxed, informal lunch.

"Don't you miss Spain?" Porthos asked the ladies.

"Well, I do miss the warm sun and the beautiful countryside. But on the other hand it's very nice to visit the family and be able to help – although we haven't been very successful with that so far."

"Which we are going to change immediately. And tomorrow we'll sort out matters with the bank." As usual Constance had a positive outlook on the day and infected Anne with her good mood.

After the good meal, the small group walked back to the SUVs.

"Too bad we can't just take a little stroll through the city," Constance sighed.

"We could change that if you'd like. I'm sure you can get a day off, can't you?" D'Artagnan asked, walking beside her.

"Welll, since this is supposed to be my vacation, that shouldn't be a problem," Constance said, giving him a brief smile.

"Very good, in that case I'll take you away for a very special tour through Paris," D'Artagnan said, smiling back at her, as he held the car door open for her. Constance thankfully took his hand as she climbed into the SUV.

After a couple of minutes drive through the Paris rush-hour they arrived at the accountant's office. Anne was talking on the phone. "Of course, Captain, I understand. But for the future, I want Constance to ride with me. This way we'll be better able to plan and organize our activities. I am sure that you will find a suitable solution." Anne handed the phone to Aramis. Constance watched, slightly confused, as Aramis ended the call a little later.

The accountant was already waiting for them at the entrance. "Madame Anne, - may I call you that? Finally I get to meet you. How lovely you look. I am Monsieur Rochefort, the king's most trusted accountant. Please follow me into my office."

Rochefort took her hand and tried to kiss it. Clearly uncomfortable with the situation, Anne tried to pull it away. Just like in the bank, Aramis stood close beside her.

"Oh I think you won't need your bodyguards in here. Too many long and boring numbers for the gentlemen." Rochefort said, throwing a disdainful look at Aramis, who didn't let it rile him. "I will accompany her. Numbers don't deter me, I have a weapon." With these words, Aramis led Anne past Rochefort into the building. Anne was relieved to have circumvented the kiss on the hand.

Porthos and Aramis exchanged a knowing look. "D'Artagnan, go with Aramis, we'll stay in the background."

D'Artagnan gave a short nod. Before Rochefort could turn to Constance, D'Artagnan had already led her through the door gently but decisively.

After two obsequious hours of going through the books, Anne closed the last ledger and gave Rochefort a short smile. "Thank you for your help, Monsieur Rochefort. So far I am satisfied with the accounts. I think we'll be on our way now."

"Oh yes, of course, don't let me keep you," Rochefort answered. As polite as he had been at the beginning, now all he wanted was to get Anne far away from his accounts.

Back at the cars Constance turned to Anne. "Forgive my little rant, but how can you say that the books are alright? Didn't you see the postings and the wrong invoice dates? The accounts actually come up to very different numbers. There's something very wrong here!"

Anne smiled at her friend and put on her sunglasses. "That's just what I noticed as well, but there's no need to let Rochefort know that. For now he feels secure. Tomorrow we will have his whole stock moved to the chateau and check everything for ourselves. But at first glance the books are clean – there's not a single coffee stain on them." Anne explained, smiling. Now Constance had to smile as well. 

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