by Alec Peche
“I hadn’t thought of that, but you would only need to keep it on for about ten minutes until we make it outside to our ride.”
“I think I can hold it together that long. Can you find a video on how to tie the hijab?”
“I’ll text Jill and see if she noticed if the female followed them,” Marie said. “Then I’ll find a video for us.”
A few seconds later Jill answered the text, “Yes she followed us, but we lost them leaving the station, so she might have gone back to the train to get a ride to Edinburgh.”
Marie shared her plan with Jill and Angela who were both excited to see how it worked out.
“What do we do about our luggage? We won’t be able to change that,” Jo asked.
“Good question,” Marie replied, and the two women sat in silence wondering how they could cover their luggage. Marie’s was black so it was no problem, but Jo’s was purple and would stand out.
“Could you cover it with the blanket you bought in Wales?”
“I’ll try.”
With the game plan in place it was just a matter of reaching the Haymarket station and trying their luck at disguise. Jill and Angela seemed to be in a better position having outrun the people tailing them.
Chapter 13
The train pulled into the station, and they had their luggage in hand to get off. They had watched a video on how to wrap a hijab and practiced it a few times to make sure they had it right. Marie and Jo looked around them for their followers but didn’t see anyone right away and then they had to keep moving with the flow of people exiting the train and walking off the platform. The two women kept an eye out for ‘toilets’ to make the changes to their appearance. They located it close to the exit and entered to make changes. They knew they needed to do it fast for the best effect and to be able to reach the Uber stand before fainting from the heat of the extra clothing. They’d taken off their lightweight coats before leaving the train so they had goosebumps upon entering the bathroom.
In under three minutes, Jo and Marie changed shoes, added clothing to bulk themselves up and managed to tie credible hijabs around their faces. With the blanket covering Jo’s suitcase, she left first, affecting a limp, and Marie followed sixty seconds later. For not being spies, they thought they had done pretty well. Jo had requested Uber just before leaving the toilet, and it was at the curb waiting when she exited. Stowing her luggage, she told the driver she had a second friend arriving sixty seconds behind her. He was getting antsy as drivers were not supposed to wait long, but Marie walked out of the door and pushed her case inside the car and slammed the door and they were off for their hotel in Charlotte Square. The two women begin pulling off the extra clothing, and the driver looked at them in puzzlement in the rearview mirror. He’d never transported women wearing hijabs who took them off while in the car.
“We thought we were being followed, so we ducked into the toilet and put a disguise on,” Marie said.
“Did you call the polis?” asked the driver. “It’s just 999 if it’s an emergency.”
“We didn’t call as we weren’t sure the people following us meant us any harm. So we just tried to ditch them, and I think we succeeded,” Jo said putting her hand in the air for a high five with Marie. “I wonder how Jill and Angela are doing?”
Marie looked at her watch and said, “They won’t arrive for another thirty minutes, so we’ll have to wait to hear their story.”
A short time later they had arrived and were checking into their hotel. Sitting in the lobby was Nathan Conroy, reading something on his phone and sipping a bottle of water. He was the love of Jill’s life. He was around six feet tall, slender, black-haired, and a martial arts expert. He was also famous in the wine world for the exquisite labels he created for wine bottles. He’d already checked-in and was awaiting Jill’s arrival. She’d been keeping him up to date with their last-minute plan on the train.
He gave a hug to Marie and Jo and said “Go ahead and get settled and come back to the lobby when you’re ready. I know there’s a pub nearby and we can wait for Jill and Angela there.”
The two women were back in the lobby about fifteen minutes later, refreshed and looking forward to a pub. They walked over to it and briefly debated trying whiskey.
“When in Scotland, we should try the local spirits,” Marie suggested.
“I haven’t been a whiskey drinker since college two decades ago,” Jo replied. “But maybe it’s time to try it again. Let’s ask the bartender for a recommendation unless you know your whiskeys Nathan.”
“I’d go with your suggestion and ask the bartender; there are too many distilleries in this country that I have not tried.”
The three friends sat sipping single malt whiskey waiting for Jill and Angela to arrive. Jo looked at Marie and Nathan and said, “Wow this is going right to my brain. It’s terrific, but if I climb up on any tables and start singing, you’ll pull me down before I embarrass the entire United States, right?”
Marie gave her a dopey smile and replied, “No, I’ll probably join you on the tabletop, and there will be two ugly Americans breaking glasses with their screechy voices.”
Nathan just laughed and said, “I’ll sell tickets at the door to your performance so don’t expect me to stop any singing and I promise to record it for prosperity.”
They toasted one another and chatted with the bartender. They were starting on their second whiskey selection when the other two entered the bar.
Nathan was up hugging Angela and then Jill for a more extended hug and kiss.
“Is that whiskey that you’re drinking?” Angela asked ready to join them.
“Yes. It’s single malt from a distillery in Islay, which is an island directly west of here. I can taste the sea breeze in this malt,” Marie said with a grin.
“More likely you've had enough whiskey that your imagination smells a sea breeze,” Jill said.
“Hey, our bartender, Andy, said this distillery is on the Loch Indaal which is on the North Atlantic Ocean,” Marie said quite proud of herself for remembering the names of the whiskey’s origins while holding the glass of amber liquid up to the light.
“Is it tasty?” Angela asked.
“Do we look unhappy with our drink selections?” Jo replied. “This is our second dram and Andy here recommends you drink it neat with a glass of water on the side to help you taste the individual flavors of the whiskey."
“When in Rome,” Jill muttered and then looking at Andy said, “I like stuff sweet, so if you have a sweet whiskey I’ll take it neat with the water on the side.”
“I’ll have a Bowmore neat,” Angela said.
Her four friends turned and looked at her, and she said, “Hey, I did my research and they’re fruity whiskeys. Andy, do you think it’s good?”
Andy replied, “You have expensive taste lassie. Some of their bottles go for tens of thousands of pounds a bottle.”
“That doesn’t sound like your taste Angela,” Nathan said.
Angela swallowed and said, “I’d like a dram of their forty-pound bottle. Do you have it?”
Andy busted up laughing and explained to the other bar patrons, “She wants the forty pound bottle.”
There was a round of laughter from the men, and two women at the bar and one of them said to Andy, “I want two drams from that bottle too!” and the laughter began again.
Angela said, “Ok, can I have a dram of any whiskey that has a fruity taste in a forty pound or less bottle?”
Her three friends grinned at her and Andy announced to the other patrons, “How about if I give the one that wants it sweet a Laphroaig, and the fruity drinker will get a Glenmorangie?”
There were nods of agreement, and Jill and Angela soon found themselves sipping whiskey. Jo had leaned over to talk to the other patrons, while Marie leaned back in her chair at peace with the world after having too much alcohol on an empty stomach recently fed by adrenaline.
Eventually, they moved away from Andy and the other patrons
to talk about what had happened on the train and bus. Marie and Jo went first describing their efforts in creating a hijab. As always, Nathan sat there uneasy at the risks the women willingly exposed themselves to, but then he silently hit his head with his hand in his mind as he remembered that was part of their charm. He couldn’t have it both ways.
“Did that work? Were you followed?” Angela was impressed with their creativity.
“We think it worked; we practiced tying scarfs over the hood of the rain poncho, and the biggest worry was whether Jo would faint from heat before we got into the Uber car. Fortunately, the toilet was near the exit, so we didn’t have far to go in all that clothing.”
“The Uber driver gave us a strange look when we began removing some of the layers and told us we should call the polis when we explained what happened, which we declined to do. We didn’t see anyone follow us, but who knows? We tried to be quick in the bathroom, and we didn’t want to look around as we were leaving lest we give ourselves away, but we know for sure that a car didn’t follow us,” Marie said. “What about you guys?”
“We thought that we were followed out of the train station, but there was no other ride in sight, so we got away unless they later found our Uber driver and questioned him,” Jill said. “The bus ride was uneventful other than Angela getting some interesting pictures of heather fields. We didn’t see anyone follow us from the bus station to our hotel.”
“So what’s our next plan?” Jo asked. “Besides drinking whiskey; I’ll be needing food soon, or you’ll have to wheel me out of here.”
“Me too,” Marie said. “Let’s ask some of these regulars for restaurant suggestions and go from there.”
A few minutes later they found themselves at a café a few blocks from the pub. Angela, Jo, and Marie went with a wild Scottish salmon dish, while Nathan bravely tried the Haggis, and Jill settled on Fish and Chips. Everyone was happy with their selection and pleased with the bar patrons recommendations. They were dining in a charming alcove where they couldn’t be overheard.
“So ladies what’s the latest on Nick’s murderer? Jill’s been keeping me up to date, but there’s nothing like having a question and answer session with you folks to have a real sense of this investigation,” Nathan said starting the conversation.
“We’ve been unable so far to find his real identity or indeed if he has any family. He continues resting at the coroner’s office in Cardiff until we can find family,” Angela began. “We have two groups of people following us from Cardiff to Manchester and on to Edinburgh. We didn’t notice them on the train leg from Cardiff to Manchester, nor did we notice them at the few tourist sites we stopped at in Manchester, but they were following us today on the train.”
Marie picked up the story, “We ran into a dead end figuring out who Nick was and any more information on his tattoo representing Operation Gladio. The organization seemed to have died off, and Nick seemed too smart to belong to such a group.”
“Except they have this philosophy that you only left the group by death,” Jo said. “Maybe he wanted to quit the group, and they wouldn’t let him except by death.”
“Certainly the unidentified language spoken at the castle before his push to death fits Operation Gladio as one of the documents I read said they spoke in Guernésiais and that fits with what witnesses said. Other than a few people following us on this case we have nothing other than we don’t know Nick’s true identity,” Jill said.
Nathan asked, “Did you find out where the group is based? Is it Italy or France or Belgium?”
“You know I didn’t try to answer your question,” Marie said. “When we get back to the hotel, I’ll work on identifying where their headquarters might be. I don’t know if that will tell us anything, but perhaps it will.”
“Just a thought,” Nathan replied.
Jill glanced at her phone and noticed a new email from Henrik. She ignored the conversation going on around her and opened the email; finally some answers.
“Hey guys, I have an email from Henrik, and he’s identified Nick,” Jill said excitedly.
“What’s his real name?” prompted Angela.
“How did Henrik locate him?” asked Marie.
Chapter 14
“His full name is Nicholas Brouwer De Jong. There was no way to find him with such a popular first name without knowing his surname, so at least now we can investigate him,” Jill advised.
“How did Henrik find his identity?” Angela asked.
“Henrik said he had an “a-hah” moment as we Americans like to call it. He thought of the several visits that Nick had made to his house and went back and searched security tapes to find the perfect full frontal view of the man. That finally allowed him to be identified,” Jill replied. "In all of the other pictures he managed to turn his head to the side and downward."
“It was probably that first visit when Henrik had us kidnapped from Brussels. We were in the dining room for a while, and Nick at some point had to be captured on camera,” Angela said as they all thought back to the first time they’d met Henrik.
The others nodded with Angela’s description. Their introduction to Henrik had been tense. He’d had them kidnapped off the streets of Brussels and brought to his estate in Stuttgart. They’d all been scared and angry about the kidnapping until they understood that the murder investigation they’d been involved with had been Henrik’s wife, a woman he’d loved from the bottom of his heart. Henrik operated a global security company, and they managed to stay in touch in the two years since despite the geographical distance. Henrik’s company developed software that was the best facial recognition database that Jill had ever come across. He’d provided her with a free copy for use with her cases knowing that her interactions with police forces across the world would sell additional copies, not that he was in need of additional clients, but business was business.
“Now that we have his identity, could Henrik do a match of his face to public cameras across the UK and Europe to see where he’s been this past month?” Jo suggested. “Maybe that will give us a clue as to who had ill will toward Nick.”
Her three friends stared at her in wonder.
“What,” she asked cheekily. “Good suggestion, huh!”
“That’s an amazing suggestion!” Jill said. “OMG, we’ve made an investigator out of you.”
“Well, I’ve been hanging around with you guys for several years now, and I was bound to pick something up. Just don’t think I’ll be able more observant on the street. I wouldn’t go that far in my investigative skills.”
There was laughter and the clinking of glasses, then Marie gave Henrik a call to see if he could deliver on Jo’s idea.
“Hello Marie, how are you doing? Did Jill receive my email?”
“Hey Henrik, she did, and Jo just came up with a brilliant idea that we wondered if you could carry out.”
“Jo?” asked Henrik, apparently puzzled. He remembered the American as brilliant with accounting, and fun, but she seemed to have the least interest in their investigations, and he couldn’t ever recall an investigative suggestion coming from her.
“That was exactly our reaction,” Marie said with a laugh. “Perhaps she was inspired by the whiskey we’ve been drinking here.”
Henrik chuckled and said, “You Americans are fond of the idea of alcohol-induced creativity aren’t you?”
“Hey, it goes back to Hemingway and beyond,” Marie replied. “She suggested that you use your facial recognition and the public cameras of the UK and Europe to track Nick’s motion in the last month.”
“Great idea! I’ll have one of my programmers get right on that. I would guess I’ll have some information for you by tomorrow morning.”
“Great! Nathan’s here, and you’ll be joining us for dinner tomorrow, right?”
“Yes. I have a favorite restaurant in Edinburgh that I took the liberty of making a reservation at for the six of us. I’ll send you the time and address. Attire is casual.”
&nbs
p; “Looking forward to seeing you again,” Marie said and meant it. She found the German attractive both in looks, intelligence, and character.
“Tell Jo, I’m impressed with her suggestion, and I’ll get right on it as you Americans like to say.”
They ended their call, and Marie returned to the table with a broad smile on her face. She’d stepped into an alcove by the toilets to make the call.
“Henrik says he impressed with you Jo! He’s also texting the restaurant address and time where he made reservations for tomorrow night for dinner. I’m glad we don’t have to figure that out.”
They finished dinner and discussed where to go next; there were comedy nightclubs, music, and whiskey bars under discussion.
“Why don’t we do it all?” Angela suggested. “I thought the bar was pretty special back at the hotel. We could drink more whiskey and begin our search on Nick De Jong.”
A short time later the group found themselves back at their hotel and in the Art Deco bar that had loads of atmosphere. They also had an excellent whiskey collection and the friends each ordered a new brand based on a discussion with the bartender.
“I love that the bartenders know the subtleties of these brands. It’s part education part atmosphere to know a little of the story behind a certain distillery,” Angela said sipping her brew. Then looking over at Nathan she added, “Sweetie you look like you could use two toothpicks to prop your eyelids open. You must be jet lagged; why don’t you head upstairs to sleep. We’re all on Scottish time and the night is young.”
After a huge yawn, he stood up and said, “That’s a brilliant idea. I think I’ll do that.”
“Babe if you can’t fall asleep once you fall into bed, just come back down and rejoin us,” Jill said before kissing Nathan as he left the bar.
Sipping their whiskeys, they doubled down trying to figure out who Nick was. Out of the side of her peripheral vision, Angela noticed one of their followers from earlier on the train. He passed through to the lobby desk.