French Stewart Inspector Gadget Novels & Stories

“This? A trinket, Catalina. It doesn’t match my V-9s.” I laughed back, sharp and confident. “Oh, caro, you haven’t heard the specs. That’s not just a comms device. It’s a ghost frequency generator, interferes with enemy lines, eavesdrops on their chatter without detection. You can cut their signal mid-call, make them think they’re talking to their own, and feed them whatever lies you want.” Henri’s smirk faded, his fingers tightening on the earpiece. “You’re saying… you can hijack their communications? Feed false intel?”

I took three steps down the grand staircase, aiming for the main floor bar, when a flash of charcoal grey cut through the sea of black tuxedos near the column line. I froze on the steps. "Shit," I muttered under my breath. "What the hell is he doing here?" "What’s up, sir?" Nigel’s voice popped back into my ear, sharper now. "What did you see? Do I need to re-route the cameras?" "I saw Michael Stewart just now." I blinked, staring at the wide shoulders of the grey-tunicked coat twenty feet away. "I was just wondering if my eyes were playing tricks." "Stewart? The internal auditor from the London office? He’s supposed to be on medical leave in the States, sir. Let me check the flight logs—"

Quickly checking the bathroom, the chairs, and the language areas, the inspector found no traces of anyone hiding… much less multiple individuals. It seemed Rodriguez had been telling the truth. The Kent chief inspector stood alone in the deserted cabin and swallowed hard. His face flushed, he stepped back onto the gangway, gazing across the hangar at Albert Rodriguez and his servant, who were now under gunpoint near the limousine. "Let them go," the inspector ordered. "We received a bad tip." Rodriguez's eyes were menacing even across the hangar. "You can expect a call from my lawyers. And for future references, the French Police cannot be trusted."

A white cable led to ear buds which were hiding in the hoodie. The man paused at the door as he knocked twice before the door was flung ajar, giving me a little glimpse of the grainy view of the interior decor. The security was loose. I would bet the security cameras weren't working. I threw down my binoculars and opened the dashboard and pulled out the Steyr GB. I was a patient man, but time wasn't on my side. I took a worrying look at my watch as it chimed, each second a reminder of the little time I had.

The Stokes siblings took seats beside him keenly witnessing how he attached a few chips with circular shape on her head, forearm and in between the crook of the elbow that was attached to the machine with blinking lights which he had just taken out from the bag. " Okay Stella, now I will ask you a few questions and you will answer me. But remember, you have to answer me positively with no cleverness. A single false reply and a wave of shock will be given to you by this machine. So be careful ".... The expert announced, Stella who in tears, blinked her eyes severally attempting to understand the guy's words. He was dressed in formals and specs rested on his nose. There was a microphone in his

He didn't need to turn around before he knew who owned it, the sick bastard's voice kind of registered in his head just for the few unfortunate minutes he got to know him. "Like it, don't you?" The strange man with an uneven buzz cut inquired, posing on the front bonnet of the SUV black jeep. His friend in the car gave him a stern glare from inside the car and in return, he blew him a kiss and gave him a sweet smile which made the man look weirdly at him. "You want a second beat up, boy?" Felix growled out. "Oh calm down daddy." The strange man laughed sickly at him instead of getting worried. He bent down to examine the plate and he realized it was one of the Garcia bodyguards, the plate ha

“Didn’t Edward tell you about the place?” “Yes, Edward Bartlett led us to the said apartment,” answered Gladd. “As well as the clues you just said that you had also told him. As for the suspicion of bomb manufactoring, that is currently under investigation.” Gonzales scoffed. “Just a confirmation to see if your statements match, Ms, Stewart.” Gray and Gonzales shared a scornful glare at each other. “A-anyway,” intercepted Gladd. “Your strategy of installing a tracking app was really great thinking, Ms. Stewart.”

PRESENT “According to a witness, you were one of the last people to have been spotted with miss Steel.” The detective said, his voice hoarse and his eyes tired. “Yes I was,” France replied plainly,”I’m sure the witness added that he saw me leave that night.” The detective glared at him, as though he was reading his mind. The man in front of him appeared drowsy, he had pending questions for him. “I carried out some investigations on you,” the detective affirmed and France’s eyes widened in bewilderment.

- "Believe me, Evans knows all kinds of engravers in the form of earrings and necklaces" Lora looked at the inspector in amazement. She didn't count on Evans' knowledge of official equipment. But this being Banks, the redhead knew she was in for a lot of surprises. - "Maybe I can hide it" she murmured, analyzing the device in her hands. - "Now it's yours. Use it when you talk to Michele too"

wasn't being spied on or anything. All was clear. He took off his suit jacket and took out his cell phone from the inside pocket. He walked to the wardrobe and opened it. There was only one hanger in there. He used it to hang his suit jacket. He then took his other suit jacket which he had brought with him and hanged it over the new one. He went back to the bed and sat down. He opened up his backpack. He took out two sweaters, two underpants, two pair of shorts, some cologne, roll-on, earphones and his laptop. As he took the things out, he laid it on his bed, one by one, neatly. He then felt a couple of stitches along the back of the inside of his backpack. He tore it apart with his hands.