‘That’s everything,’ the man said.
‘And who should I say called?’ She waited for an answer, but the line went dead and she placed the handset down.
Fucking English.
Eddie placed the receiver down onto the phone. The first part of his plan was now in motion.
Now for part two.
He sat on the side of his bed in his hotel room. Charlie’s metal case lay on the floor in front of him, its contents packed away inside. He stubbed out a cigarette on the top of an empty beer can, then picked up the phone again. He glanced at a hand-written number on the inside of the cigarette box, then started dialling.
‘It’s me,’ he said.
‘Hey, kid,’ said Kenny. What’s up?’
‘I need your help’.
‘Of course, what do you need?’
‘I’m staying at Hotel El Pachucho. D’ya know it?’
‘I can find it,’ said Kenny.
‘Good. Can you be here at ten-thirty?’
‘Sure. What are we gonna be doing?’
‘Catching a killer,’ said Eddie.
Thirty minutes later, Eddie was sitting inside a small cafe around the corner from his hotel. He was donning three newly acquired items; a yellow tee-shirt that bore the words, “La Vida de Marbella” in pink writing on the front, a red baseball cap, and a pair of reflective, silver shades. The metal case sat on the floor to his side, between his table and the wall.
A duck shell-blue Renault 4 pulled up outside, and Veronica stepped out. She peered into the shaded interior of the cafe, seemingly uncertain whether to enter.
Eddie removed the sunglasses and beckoned at her to come inside. ‘Where did you get the car from?’ he said.
‘I borrowed it from my elderly neighbour. I told her mine was being serviced, and that I needed to take my friend to the doctors’. She gestured towards his tee-shirt. ‘New look?’ she said.
He gave her an apologetic grin and offered her a chair. ‘Figured I’d blend in,’ he said, gesturing at the similarly attired tourists sitting at the surrounding tables. ‘You sure you’re up to this?’
Her reply was instant. ‘It’s the only way to finish it’.
‘Okay, then,’ Eddie said. He stood up, placed some coins on the table, then reached for the case and accompanied Veronica to the Renault. She opened the rear door so that Eddie could load the metal case inside. ‘Now remember, get to that payphone and wait for my call. Do not come to the hotel until I call you. Not under any circumstances. Tell me you understand’.
‘I understand’. Veronica reached for his hand. ‘Eddie…do you think you can forgive me?’
‘Let’s talk about that another time,’ he said. ‘If we live past today’.
She nodded, then pulled open the driver’s door and lowered herself in.
‘Twelve-thirty,’ Eddie said.
‘I’ll be there,’ she replied. She started the car up, gave Eddie a sorrowful smile, then pulled away.
Eddie watched as the light blue car disappeared out of view. ‘That’s the third, and final, part of the plan underway,’ he thought. Everything was in motion now, there was no going back.
It wouldn’t be long before he would find out who he could and could not trust.
Kenny pulled up outside the front of Eddie’s hotel in his silver Mercedes, a little after half past ten.
Eddie was already waiting for him outside. He flicked a cigarette into the road and hurried to climb in. ‘Sure you weren’t followed?’ he asked as he sat down and belted himself in.
‘I’m sure,’ said Kenny. ‘You gonna let me in on this plan of yours?’
‘Sure. In ninety minutes, I will inform several influential people where they can find me and Charlie’s stash of nasty secrets’.
Kenny’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve got Charlie’s case?’ he said.
‘I do,’ said Eddie. ‘And I told them I will sell it to the highest bidder’.
‘You serious?’ said Kenny.
Eddie nodded. ‘That I am’.
‘How the fucking hell did you get it?’
‘Long story. All that matters is I have it. Now, can we get moving?’
‘Where to?’ Kenny asked.
‘Hotel Fuerte’.
‘Hotel Fuerte?’
‘Yeah, seemed appropriate. What is this? Twenty bleedin’ questions?’
Kenny sat back, pushed the gearstick into first and pulled away. ‘What do you hope to achieve?’
‘To flush out who killed Charlie and the others’. Kenny flicked on the car’s indicator and prepared to make a left turn. ‘What are you doing? It’s straight on,’ said Eddie.
‘I’m nipping back to my flat. After what you just said, I need a shooter’.
‘There ain’t time. Besides, it’s just me that’s gonna face these people. I want you to stay put out of sight’.
Kenny stopped the indicator and scratched his chin. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, Eddie’ he said.
Eddie gazed out of the car window. ‘I do, Ken. For the first time in a long time, I do’.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Price Is Right
Hotel Fuerte, Marbella. 11:18 a.m.
Eddie approached the Hotel Fuerte, having left Kenny safe in his car and out of sight in the hotel’s underground car park. He was gripping a black plastic bag under his arm. As he stepped into the lobby, he noticed the desk manager approach him. They shook hands.
‘Everything is ready, Mr Lawson. Just as you asked. Come, I’ll take you up’. The Spaniard directed Eddie towards the stairs and handed him a piece of paper with a handwritten note on it. ‘A lady called for you. She said she is waiting for you on this telephone number, “to deliver the package” ’.
‘Thank you for doing this, Felix,’ said Eddie. ‘I’m so sorry, I can’t pay you anything’.
‘No need. Your brother was very good to my family and me. I do this for him’. The man noticed that Eddie was looking at the several CCTV cameras in the lobby and stairwell. ‘I can disable the cameras?’
‘No,’ Eddie said. ‘I want this all on tape’.
They made their way to a large, double-door on the first floor. Felix unlocked it, opened the door and handed Eddie the key. ‘The telephone is over there,’ said Felix, pointing at a table to their right.
‘Best you make yourself scarce now,’ said Eddie.
They shook hands once more, and the Spaniard departed, closing the doors behind him.
Eddie glanced at his watch. It was 11:27 a.m. He sat down at the table, lifted the phone receiver and dialled a number.
‘Sinmorales Aseguró Partners, how can I help?’ It was the same woman Eddie had spoken to earlier that morning. She sounded nervous.
‘I called earlier. Will your clients be attending the auction?’
‘They will, Mr Lawson’.
So, he thought, they know who I am already. ‘All of them?’
‘Yes, all of them. You said midday, yes?
‘That is correct,’ said Eddie
‘And the location?’ the woman asked.
Eddie could make out muffled male voices close to the woman and could imagine the scene - her sitting at the reception surrounded by the law firm’s senior partners, and some very nervous clients. He hesitated for a moment, looking up to the ornate plaster mouldings of the ceiling above him.
‘Mr Lawson?’ The location of the meeting, if you will?’
‘Hotel Fuerte. The first floor conference room,’ he said, then placed the receiver down. He took a cigarette from the packet and put it in his mouth.
No going back now.
He remained still for a while, tipping ash into a nearby plant pot, until the cigarette burned down to the filter, before standing up and wandering to the centre of the enormous room. There, as instructed, Felix had arranged several tables - one for Eddie, with three more evenly fanned out in front of it. The tables were located in the centre of the conference room, which appeared to be in the latter st
ages of a refurbishment. Dozens more tables and towers of stacked chairs sat nearby, draped under dust covers.
Eddie pulled a chair out from under the table, placed the plastic bag on the surface and sat down, readying himself for what was to come. He removed the Browning semi-automatic from inside his belt, placed it down on the chair next to him and pulled the table cloth over it. He lit another cigarette and sat watching the door, whistling “Hungry Like A Wolf”, by Duran Duran. He closed his eyes, leaned back on the chair and thought about the events of the previous several weeks.
It all seemed so unreal. Eddie had travelled to the south of Spain to find Charlie, to borrow the money he needed to travel to Angola. But there were other ways to get money. Had he come to Charlie for some other reason? He had, and he now understood why - a desire to heal his relationship with his adopted sibling. But that was not all - he had also wanted to try to ‘fix’ Charlie. They may not have been blood brothers, but Mr and Mrs Lawson had raised them as such in that pokey old terrace house in South Harrow all those years ago. There had been only a few years when he and Charlie had been genuinely close - how actual brothers can be - but Eddie still cherished those memories.
If I hadn’t come to Spain, Charlie and the others might still be alive.
He shook his head to eradicate the guilty sentiment, and lit yet another cigarette, but at the moment the flame ignited the cigarette, came the sound of shuffling feet outside the door.
This is it.
The door opened and a burly man wearing a grey suit peered inside, holding a revolver at his side. He spotted Eddie, scanned the rest of the room for a moment, and muttered something to whoever was behind him. Daniel Ortega followed after him, along with another bodyguard and a stout gentleman in a black suit who, Eddie guessed, was one of the law firm’s senior partners.
As they approached, Eddie stood and directed them towards a table. ‘Señor Ortega. Have a seat, please,’ he said.
Ortega observed Eddie for a moment. ‘I hope you know what you are doing, Mr Lawson’.
‘So do I,’ thought Eddie, hoping that his self-doubt was not apparent.
The two bodyguards standing behind Ortega turned towards the sound of the door opening behind them. Two uniformed police officers entered and studied the environment, as Ortega’s man had done a moment earlier. They too were armed, but their pistols remained in their holsters. Another man entered behind them - it was the bodyguard Eddie had encountered in the bar in Mijas, when Charlie had met and blackmailed the corrupt female politician. On queue, Doña Sophia Velásquez entered and advanced towards the centre of the room, the policemen struggling to keep pace with her.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ she demanded.
‘We will, it seems, find out in a few minutes,’ said Ortega.
Eddie gestured towards one of the two remaining tables. ‘Please, Señora. Have a seat,’ he said. ‘I will explain when our third guest arrives’. Velásquez muttered something in Spanish, whipped around, and sat down, glaring at Eddie. Eddie peered back at Ortega, who sat supporting his chin with one hand, the fingers of the other tapping rhythmically on the table before him.
Several minutes later, the group were joined by the final invitee, the businessman Juan Fernandez. He strode towards the tables, accompanied by his own entourage of three large men and another lawyer. He took note of Ortega and Velásquez, and sat down at the last remaining table, saying nothing.
Eddie cleared his throat and stood up. ‘Thank you for coming. I apologise for the cloak and dagger antics but, as I am sure you will agree, this situation calls for discretion’. The three guests and their various bodyguards, legal professionals and police officers exchanged furtive glances. Eddie continued. ‘I have in my possession, certain valuables which I am certain you will all have an interest in acquiring. I propose to give these today to whoever agrees to my terms’.
Ortega interrupted him. ‘And what, may I ask, are these “valuables” to which you refer?’
‘If you do not know that, Daniel,’ said Fernandez, ‘you would not be here’.
‘Still, said Ortega. ‘I would like for Mr Lawson here to tell us, for clarity, so to speak. If that is acceptable to you, Señor Fernandez’.
Fernandez crossed his arms.
‘I do not have time for this shit,’ said Sophia Velásquez. ‘Tell us what you have, or I will leave now’.
Eddie pushed himself up straight and took a deep breath. ‘What I have is a large metal case full of all kinds of sensational information that could embarrass or even incriminate hundreds of prominent individuals here in Spain and elsewhere’. He paused, taking in the reactions of the three ‘guests’.
Ortega chuckled. ‘So it is true. Your brother was blackmailing people. How interesting’. He turned to look at the other two Spaniards. Fernandez scratched at his moustache. Velásquez had her eyes fixed on Eddie, her hands interlocked before her.
‘You have this case here?’ said Fernandez. He nudged one of his henchmen, who angled his head to peer under the table behind Eddie. The man’s hand was inside his jacket where, no doubt, he had a weapon concealed.
‘The case is nearby. Somewhere safe,’ said Eddie.
‘We cannot see it?’ said Fernandez, shrugging. ‘How do we know this is not some absurd charade?’
‘I have some samples,’ said Eddie, reaching for the black plastic bag. He pulled out two brown envelopes, stood up, strolled forward to hand one of the packages to Fernandez, and gave the second to Doña Velásquez.
Both Spaniards took furtive looks inside their respective packets, before closing them again.
‘Is that sufficient evidence, Señor Fernandez?’ The Spaniard said nothing. He did not need to - his expression said it all. Eddie peered towards Ortega. ‘It seems Charlie didn’t have anything on you, Daniel. Which leads me to wonder, why are you here?’
‘I am here, because if that case falls into the wrong hands…it will cause problems in my town. I would prefer to avoid that’. Ortega glanced towards Fernandez and Velásquez.
The creaking of a door opening once more caught everybody’s attention. A blonde, fair-skinned man and a slim woman in a short black dress had stumbled into the room, locked in a passionate embrace.
One of Velásquez’s police guards reached for a pistol. As a reaction, both Fernadez’s and Ortegas’s henchman did likewise. The blonde man removed his hands from his female companion. ‘Shit. I’m sorry,’ he said as he and his female companion backed out of the door. The various police officers and bodyguards waited for the door to close before lowering their weapons.
Doña Velásquez stood up. ‘Enough. Put this ridiculous affair to an end. What is your price, Mr Lawson?’
Eddie grinned. This was going as he hoped. ‘I’m a simple man with simple tastes. I don’t need a big villa, designer clothing or a Ferrari on my driveway’.
Fernandez banged his fist on the table. ‘Then what do you want?’
‘I want whoever killed my brother to face justice’.
‘Justice? How interesting,’ said Ortega. He swivelled on his chair and looked at Fernandez and Velásquez.
Eddie continued. ‘If one of you can deliver the person responsible for these crimes, Charlie’s case is yours, and you can do whatever the fuck you want with it’.
Fernandez loosened his collar. Velásquez whispered to one of her men.
‘What if one of us was responsible, Eddie?’ said Ortega.
‘Then,’ said Eddie. ‘I guess it’s up to the other two to resolve the matter’. He sat down on his table.
‘This is preposterous. I have nothing to do with any murders,’ said Fernandez.
‘So why are you here, amigo?’ said Ortega.
Fernandez glared at him. ‘I am here to ensure that my reputation remains untarnished’.
Ortega snorted in derision. ‘Come, come now, Juan. I think in this situation, we can all drop the pretence. We both know what you get up to behind that cloak of civic respectability. Just as
we both know what Señora Velásquez has done to get where she is today’.
‘You need to be quiet, Ortega,’ the woman said. Her bodyguards were glaring at their fellow Spaniard.
‘Actually, I think Daniel has a point,’ said Fernandez. ‘Perhaps you are worried that Charles Lawson’s secrets might be your undoing. Perhaps you had him killed?’
Velásquez waved the accusation away. ‘And what of the five hundred thousand pounds you lent to Charlie? Money he sunk into that construction project of his, a project which I also know you were keen to take over. Many would consider that motive to enough’. She shifted back to address Eddie. ‘I despised your brother, Mr Lawson,’ she said. ‘However, Charlie was a shrewd man who understood the power of the information he gained, and he used it extremely well. I did not have him killed’. She said something to her lawyer again, and he picked up his briefcase from the floor and placed it on the table in front of him, awaiting further instructions. Velásquez continued. ‘I’m not here to help solve murders. I’m here to buy Charlie’s case’.
The lawyer opened the case to reveal multiple bundles of British banknotes. ‘One hundred thousand pounds. Take it or leave it,’ he said.
‘Maybe, you didn’t hear me earlier when I said I don’t want your money?’ said Eddie.
‘The íngles is trying to divide us,’ said Fernandez.
‘Perhaps he is succeeding,’ said Ortega, chuckling.
‘Enough,’ Fernandez shouted. ‘Whatever our differences, Señora Velásquez, the Ortega family and I have done business together for many years’. He looked to his left and right. Both of his fellow Spaniards nodded their agreement. ‘Did you really think we would turn on each other?’
Velásquez eyed Eddie like a lioness stalking its quarry. ‘Indeed. Was this your only plan?’ she said. ‘To break a pact that has lasted years? And for you, some petty criminal?’ She covered her mouth and whispered something to Fernandez, who nodded, and gave one of his bodyguards an instruction. The man gestured towards his partner, and the pair began to manoeuvre around the three tables, eyes locked on Eddie.
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