Sitting in M-Base, one of SIGER's officers possessed quite an agenda on August 22nd, starting with a painting that had allegedly been mishandled by Monaco’s Red Cross.

Perhaps mishandled was not the right word. A valuable painting had disappeared, presumed misappropriated. Even worse, SIGER believed the perpetrator was none other than the director of Monaco’s Red Cross, Philippe NARMINO (also a senior judge), and his friend, Gerard BRIANTI.

Narmino

Actually, it was alleged they had stolen it.

Apparently, the woman who donated this painting happened upon it for sale at an art gallery in France. Suspicious, she sought the gallery’s owner, who supposedly told her, “Oh, no, madam—this painting belongs to Gerard BRIANTI.”

Where did Gerard BRIANTI fit in with Monaco’s Red Cross?

In a scam that had been going on for ten years, BRIANTI’s company, Ageprim, enjoyed an exclusive deal with Monaco’s Red Cross to conduct valuations of everything donated to it: art, automobiles, boats and real estate.

Brianti (left) with Michel Pastor

BRIANTI’s company was said by SIGER to have invoiced the Monaco Red Cross an astonishing five percent of the value of every item assessed.

So let’s say a piece of art is donated to Monaco’s Red Cross and it is worth about 500,000 euros. Ageprim conducts the appraisal and collects 25,000 euros for their trouble, maybe one hour's work.

This association led SIGER’s officer into an explanation about three opposing factions within the Monegasque establishment:

1) Freemasons

2) Catholics

3) Bisexuals & homosexuals

Membership sometimes overlapped. SIGER used this model as a way of identifying criminal alliances.

Two days later, on August 25th, I checked into the Eiffel Hilton, near the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and at 5:45 set off by foot to DST headquarters, a few minutes away.

Inside the austere, heavily fortified government building, I was ushered into the presence of the DST chief and his director of operations.

I explained my role in the Prince’s service; I requested the DST’s support and, if possible, its assistance.

The Director showed willingness to cooperate on an “informal” basis, bypassing normal channels within the bureaucracy.

The Prince was only slightly late for a meeting at M-Base on September 22nd. The annual international yacht show caused dense traffic and parking problems.

“You can’t find a place to park in your own principality?” I quipped, gesturing at an Audi whose driver had simply pulled up onto the pavement in front of Shangri-la.

“I’m not Genghis Khan,” the Prince replied.

Upstairs, I updated the Prince on various dossiers and operations.

The Prince told me he was under enormous pressure to appoint Philippe NARMINO chief of Monaco’s judicial system.

We both knew a scandal brewed around NARMINO stemming from his alleged involvement in a) misappropriating a painting donated to the Monaco Red Cross and b) rigging valuation assessments to favor his friend and possibly sharing in outlandish commissions.

The Prince stated that a man was innocent until proven guilty.

I countered that this was not about arresting NARMINO and putting him on trial, but assessing his worthiness as chief of the judicial service. As long as there was smoke, said I, such an appointment would send the wrong signal to Monegasques.

The Prince instructed me thus: Let’s get to the bottom of it—investigate Philippe NARMINO.

The Prince came equipped with a new requirement: A man named Dan FISCHER, who claimed to be German, had moved to Monaco and was attempting to penetrate his social circle. The Prince tasked me with running traces.

Jean-Luc ALLAVENA would commence his duties as chef de cabinet in mid-November, the Prince added. He asked that I brief him, before his arrival at the Palace, on the existence and mission of the Prince’s intelligence service.

Out of about 5,500 Monegasques, including children and senior citizens, but a small pool were eligible for important posts within the principality. Although born in Monaco, Jean-Luc ALLAVENA was not a Monegasque until later in life when new hereditary legislation was passed. (ALLAVENA’s mother is Monegasque, but his father is French.) Franck BIANCHERI had apparently tried to block this legislation because he was said to have perceived ALLAVENA an eventual threat to his career aspirations. So it was ironic—a few years later—that ALLAVENA be given the very job BIANCHERI coveted and for which he had allowed himself to be groomed.

BIANCHERI had already heard rumors about the investigation into his alleged corruption. His behavior since had been cowed. He knew, of course, he would not be chef de cabinet, a move that sent shock waves through the Monegasque establishment. Now he waited for the other shoe to drop: his removal as finance minister.

It had already been suggested to BIANCHERI that he leave the ministry of his own volition, save the embarrassment of removal, and become Monaco’s ambassador to Paris.

(I already understood that Monaco does not put corrupt Monegasque government officials on trial but shifts them to less important jobs where they cannot steal as much--a concept known as Cultural Acceptance Level.)

But Biancheri held firm, counseled by his wife, Sylvia, who was said to be “the tough one.” Sylvia, director of the Grimaldi Forum (convention center), apparently ran the show and advised her husband, “Lay low, wait it out.”

With hindsight, this was prudent advice.

President Stephane VALERI's ulterior motive for back-biting BIANCHERI now became clear: Knowing the government had come to possess more power than the Conseil Nationale, VALERI fancied taking BIANCHERI's place as finance minister to position himself as the best well-rounded choice for minister of state after the last Frenchman vacated that position and opened it to a Monegasque, a result of Monaco’s new treaty with France.

A small cluster of Monegasques vied for--and stabbed one another in the back over--the honor of one day becoming the first Monegasque minister of state.

VALERI flew to Paris the following day for dinner with Thierry LACOSTE, the Prince’s lawyer, to lobby for BIANCHERI's job.

After a full day of such Machiavellian intrigue, I liked nothing better than to sit in solitude at the Monte Carlo Wine Bar, and, over two glasses of Margaux, contemplate the day’s revelations.