Thursday, July 14, 2016


In early December 2006, the Monaco Intelligence Service delivered a report to Prince Albert of Monaco on the identities of fanatical Moslems in and around the Principality of Monaco.

Most of these Islamic extremists were in France, within striking distance of Monaco.

We were concerned that many such fanatical Moslems had taken jobs centering on Monaco's Port Hercules.

Our report was compiled partly from Monaco police files and partly from intelligence provided to us by the foreign intelligence services with which we liaised.

Monaco Police Captain Yves Subraud, who investigated Islamic extremism in and around Monaco, estimated that 30 percent of the Moslems in Cap d'Ail and Beausoleil, on opposite ends of Monaco, were fanatics.

The French converts, he added, were more fanatical than ethnic Arabs.

"I don't know where my reports go," Subraud told me.  "No action is ever taken."

Thursday, July 7, 2016


    Philip Green:  Brown face, brown nose

October 2003

On October 1st, the Prince phoned to confirm a meeting two weeks later and invited me to join him at the World Music Awards in Monte Carlo.

This allowed me to observe the social dynamics of a modern royal court.  

I once told the Prince that he resides in the eye of a hurricane, with social climbers, hangers-on and brown-noses forever swirling around, trying to jostle one another out of position in an on-going contest of Who can be nearest the Prince.  

All the usual suspects had tables in sectioned zones adjacent to the Prince’s own in the center, including British billionaire Philip Green, Irish packaging tycoon Michael Smurfit, and Omar Masoud, the Libyan vice-president of Tamoil.  

Not content with his placement, Green actually left his table and postured himself in the Prince’s section, standing, gazing around, to ensure his proximity to the Prince was recognized by others—a condition known among insiders as Albertitis.

The next day at noon the Prince and I met in Hotel Columbus for fifty minutes during which I updated him on various matters.  

Samy Maroun, the Prince told me, was still trying to put him together with Patric Maugein, saying things like, “He is close to Chirac” and “he has ideas for better business in Monaco.”   

The Prince rebuffed him.  The system, I felt confident, was working.  

“By the way?” I asked.  “What was Philip Green doing in your section at the music awards?”

“Yeah, I know,” replied the Prince, a look of utter disgust on his face.

The Spymaster of Monte Carlo

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