Touching the Sun: A Harry Beck Thriller (The Bahamas Series Book 1)

by Len Maynard

  ‘Likewise. But I need you to do something for me.’

  He exchanged a glance with Billie. I couldn’t say what was communicated between them in that look, but there was definitely something. The scowl slipped away from his features to be replaced by a look of curiosity. ‘Go ahead,’ he said. ‘Shoot.’

  I fished the flash drive out of my shirt pocket and tossed it across to him. ‘Will your computer read this?’

  He caught it deftly and turned it over in his palm. ‘Possibly. Possibly not. It depends on file formats.’

  ‘Can you try?’

  His laptop was in its case, lying on the bed. He slid it out and opened it up. A few seconds later the screen came alive. ‘We’ll give it a moment to boot up, and then we’ll try it.’ A few moments later he inserted the stick into a USB port at the side of the laptop and hit a few keys.

  Billie put a cup of coffee down beside me and went across to the bed, looking over Sam’s shoulder at the screen. The pair were close, but not a couple; the body language was all wrong. Friends then. Perhaps she was helping him with his book.

  He turned to me. ‘Well, there’s something here, but I can’t tell you what.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Billie read the disappointment in my eyes. ‘There are lots of files there, but they’re encrypted.’ She tapped a few keys. ‘And it’s quite a sophisticated encryption. It’s going to take me ages to crack it.’

  ‘Do you think you can?’

  Sam smiled at me. ‘If Billie can’t get us in there nobody will. She’s good.’

  ‘Just good?’ Billie said, and punched him in the arm.

  I picked up the cup and took a swig. ‘Makes a mean cup of coffee too,’ I said.

  ‘There’s no end to my talents.’ she said, and pushed Sam out of the way, then curled herself into the lotus position on the bed and started hitting keys.

  29

  An hour later Billie was still sitting there tapping away at the keyboard, swearing occasionally, and jotting down notes on a pad lying on the bed beside her.

  ‘No luck?’ I said.

  Her lips were pressed into a hard, thin line and her brow was creased into a frown of concentration. She gave a barely imperceptible shake of her head.

  ‘So, this flash drive…’ Sam said. ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘Alan,’ I said.

  His eyes widened. ‘You’ve seen him?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘He sent it to me.’

  ‘But I thought...,’ Sam began, but Billie interrupted him with a triumphant, ‘Yessss!’ and punched the air with her fist. ‘We’re in,’ she said.

  ‘I told you she was good,’ Sam said with a smile. ‘Come on, let’s see what we’ve got.’

  Billie was still hunched over the computer. ‘Just a minute,’ she said. She was running the cursor over directories and opening them. ‘There’s not much here...oh, wait a minute. This is interesting.’ She spun the computer around on the bed so we could see the screen.

  It was filled with small, thumbnail images of children. Head-shots mostly, but there were a few more graphic images there too. They turned my stomach.

  ‘What is this?’ I said.

  ‘At a guess,’ Billie said with a small shrug, ‘It’s a market place. These kids are for sale. Look.’ She let the cursor hover over a thumbnail image of a boy. As she clicked the touchpad the full-sized image appeared, filling the screen. He could have been no more than six years old. Large, innocent eyes set in a smiling black face.

  Underneath the picture was a small white box. Nathan, 5yrs, Haitian, $10,000.

  Billie closed the image and opened another. This time a girl, again black, her hair plaited into cornrows. Michelle, 8yrs, Cuban, Experienced, $15,000. I didn’t have to guess what Experienced meant. It was written there on the stony, unsmiling face, and echoed by the dead expression in her eyes.

  ‘This is sick,’ Sam said. ‘It’s a meat market.’

  ‘Are these the only ones on there?’ I said. I didn’t want to look at any more pictures of children.

  Billie closed the directory and opened another.

  The next thing to appear on the screen was a list of names and addresses. Billie moved down the list.

  There were names I recognized instantly. A US Senator, two prominent members of the British government, one from the Commons, one from the House of Lords, a popular US TV newsreader and his wife, two reasonably famous Hollywood actors. The list went on. The only common link between them was wealth. They all had money…lots of money.

  Billie scrolled down as I scanned the names. And then one jumped out at me; a name that announced its presence with an explosion in my mind and a sucker punch to my stomach. For a moment I thought I was going to throw up, experiencing nausea similar to that suffered by Sam on the trip across to Abaco.

  Sam noticed my reaction. ‘Someone you know?’

  I reined in my emotions. ‘There’re a lot of names I recognize,’ I said vaguely.

  He studied me for a moment then let it go. ‘This is a client list,’ he said after a while. ‘A database of all the sick fucks in the market for this filth.’

  I agreed. It was also the reason my bungalow had been trashed, why Stevie had been tortured, and why they had forced my father to drink himself close to death.

  The flash drive was an inch and a half of pure dynamite; a career and life wrecker for so many people. It was small wonder that those behind it were desperate enough to do anything to stop the drive, and the data contained in the silicon, from falling into the wrong hands.

  I wondered about Alan. It was obvious now he was deeply involved in this, but what had happened? A change of heart perhaps? A sudden realization that he was into something so sick and so depraved that his moral compass had finally steered him away from it?

  He had entrusted the flash drive to me. The question was, what the hell did he expect me to do with it?

  ‘Can you print the list out for me?’ I said.

  Billie looked up from the bed, her face serious. ‘You realize that there are people out there who will kill to stop this from becoming public knowledge.’

  ‘They already have.’ I thought about Anna and Sally.

  ‘And you still want to walk around with a printout of this list in your pocket? You’re mad. We need to hand the drive over to the authorities.’

  Sam butted in then. ‘For them to do what? It’s just a list of names. There’s no proof linking anyone on it to anything criminal. Did you see some of the names on there? Between them they have enough money to buy silence in every country of the world. With enough cash dropped into the pockets of the right people they could make this go away. It might inconvenience them for a while, and maybe cost them the down payment on their next chateau or yacht, but ultimately money talks.’

  ‘So,’ Billie said. ‘Suggestions?’

  ‘This is just the springboard I needed for my book,’ Sam said.

  ‘And you’ve got your photographs now, so there’s no point me hanging around anymore,’ Billie said, an edge to her voice.

  ‘Don’t take it like that,’ Sam said. ‘I told you before you came out here there were no guarantees. Besides, if I remember correctly you invited yourself.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ She scowled at him, but turned her attention to me. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I don’t need photographs either,’ I said. It didn’t improve her mood.

  ‘Don’t be facetious,’ she said. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  ‘I need to find Alan Lancaster,’ I said.

  ‘You think he’s still alive?’

  I nodded. ‘He was alive enough when he sent me the message about the flash drive. There’s every reason to think that he still is. Alan knows these Islands as well as I do. There are hundreds of places to hide yourself away. If you don’t want to be found you won’t be.’

  ‘So that’s what you think he’s done,’ Billie said. ‘Hidden himself away until it all blows over?’

  ‘I su
spect so.’

  ‘Even though his wife and daughter have been murdered?’ Sam said.

  ‘There’s one thing you should know about Alan,’ I said. ‘He’s a survivor, first and foremost. There’s only one person he’ll be looking out for now, and that’s himself.’

  ‘Nice friends you have,’ Billie said.

  ‘Alan is my oldest friend,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t mean I like him very much at this precise moment. But I need answers, and he’s the only one likely to provide them.’

  30

  Ten minutes later I left the hotel room, the database printed out, folded, and slipped into the pocket of my shorts, along with the flash drive. I took the stairs down to the lobby, and had almost reached the bottom when I heard voices.

  ‘Look again. Do you recognize this man?’

  The voice was harsh, laced with a Cuban accent. I stuck my head around the edge of the stairwell and drew back quickly. The three of them were there; the big man, the smaller man, and the woman; the three who had attacked Stevie on The Lady, and who had plied my father with liquor until they rendered him unconscious. I felt my muscles bunching, my hands balling into fists.

  They were talking to the wall-eyed old lady behind the desk and showing her a photograph.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ came the querulous, ancient voice.

  ‘Show her again,’ the Cuban woman said.

  There was a pause, followed by a cry. ‘408.... He’s in 408...don’t!’

  I didn’t hesitate. I took the stairs three at a time. A few seconds later I was banging on Sam’s door.

  ‘It’s Harry! Let me in!’

  Billie answered the door again, an expression of curiosity mingled with alarm on her face. ‘Harry, what...?’

  ‘We have to get out of here. The Cubans. They’ve found us.’

  As Sam scooped up the laptop, while Billie was bundling camera parts into a leather holdall.

  ‘Leave them. We haven’t got time,’ I said, standing by the door and holding it open. I could hear footsteps thudding on the thinly carpeted staircase.

  ‘Fuck you!’ she snapped at me. ‘This is my livelihood.’

  Finally, they were ready. I bundled them onto the landing and shut the door behind them. The footsteps were louder…they were nearly on us. ‘This way,’ I said and started to run in the opposite direction to the stairs. ‘Is there a fire escape?’

  Sam shrugged.

  ‘Think!’

  ‘I don’t know!’

  Billie ran ahead of us and stopped at another door.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I said as we reached her.

  She had a key in her hand. She opened the door and pushed it wide. ‘In here,’ she said.

  I didn’t argue with her. I followed them into the room and closed the door. The room was a neater, less smelly version of the one we’d just left.

  ‘My room,’ she said with a smile.

  The footsteps had reached the landing. I put a finger to my lips.

  For a second there was silence, then a loud crash as a foot made contact with the door to room 408, smashing it in. There was a second or two of shouting, followed by silence as they realized we weren’t in the room; and then footsteps thudded down the landing, past our door, and we heard the window at the end being opened. The sound of the footsteps changed, became harsh, metallic. It sounded like they’d found the fire escape and decided we’d escaped that way.

  We waited in silence, barely daring to breathe.

  Finally, Sam said, ‘Do you think they’ve gone?’

  Billie was at the door before I could stop her. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ She opened the door and stepped out onto the landing, pulling the door closed behind her.

  I put my ear to the door, listening. She was either very brave or completely mad. I suspected the latter. A second later Sam joined me, pressing the side of his face against the door.

  ‘Hi there. Can I help you?’ Billie’s voice rang out. She was speaking loudly, obviously so we could hear the conversation.

  There were more footsteps, then a man’s voice said, ‘Estamos buscando para alguien.’ The language was Spanish.

  ‘¿Alguien que conozco?’ Billie answered in the same tongue.

  ‘Mire esta foto. ¿Le reconoce?’

  Sam was whispering to me, offering a translation. ‘They told her they’re looking for someone; she asked who. Now they’re showing her a photograph.’

  ‘¿Cómo se llama?’

  ‘Harry Beck. ¿Le reconoce?’

  ‘Nunca le vi en mí vida. Y seamos sinceros, una cara como esa es difícil olvidar’

  ‘It’s a photo of you. She’s telling them she’s never heard of you.’

  ‘Do they believe her?’

  Sam shrugged. ‘Why shouldn’t they?’

  There were more sounds of movement. The man barked an order, ‘¡Vamos salir de aquí!’

  ‘Buena suerte. Espero que le busquéis.’

  ‘They’re going,’ Sam hissed. ‘Billie’s wishing them good luck. Says she hopes they find you.’

  ‘Great,’ I muttered.

  A full minute passed before the door opened and Billie stepped back into the room.

  ‘What the hell do you think you were doing?’ I said.

  Billie smiled broadly. ‘Well, I figured they weren’t looking for me. I’ve only been here a day. Not long enough to piss anybody off. You, on the other hand.... By the way, it’s a terrible photograph of you. Makes you look ten years older.’

  ‘Have they gone?’ Sam said.

  ‘Watch the street.’

  I went to the window and inched back the blind. I could see the three Cubans across the street. The smaller of the men was talking into a mobile phone and gesticulating wildly. Finally, he threw the phone down on the pavement and stomped on it.

  ‘Yeah,’ Billie said, looking over my shoulder. ‘I’d say you’ve pissed him off.’

  It was obvious they couldn’t stay at the hotel. The Cubans would be back, and the next time there was every chance that Billie would be targeted, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. I still had vivid memories of cutting Stevie down from the rail of The Lady, and her description of what they’d done to her. I couldn’t let anyone else go through that just because these bastards were looking for me.

  ‘So, what do you suggest?’ Sam said.

  ‘Let me take you somewhere safe. I know a place you can hide out for a while, at least until the immediate danger has passed.’

  ‘And how would we get to this safe haven?’ Billie said knowingly.

  ‘On The Lady,’ I said, shooting a glance at Sam. He reacted much as I’d suspected he would.

  ‘No fucking way!’ he said. ‘Cars, planes, fine. I can handle those. Your boat, no way. Not after the last time.’

  Billie laid a comforting hand on his arm. ‘Sammy, we don’t have much of a choice,’ she said gently. ‘Harry’s right. We can’t stay here.’

  He looked at her steadily, and then ran his hand through his thinning hair. ‘You’re asking a lot of me,’ he said. ‘I can’t remember ever feeling as ill as I did on his boat.’

  ‘I can promise you a gentler crossing, if that’s any help,’ I offered.

  ‘And what will you be doing while we’re hiding away?’ Billie said. ‘Hunting down the bad guys, I suppose.’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘Hmm. I can almost smell the testosterone.’

  ‘It’s not like that,’ I said. ‘Three days ago I was enjoying my life. It was calm, fairly boring and predictable, and easy. Then a bomb went off and blew my easy life to hell. People I care about have been killed, beaten up, and violated. And this is all because I happen to be friends with a man who it turns out is a total piece of shit. I want to get back to my boring, predictable life, but until I find Alan Lancaster and get to the bottom of the mess he’s in I won’t be able to, and that pisses me off.’

  ‘So, all we’ve got to do now is to get out of the hotel,’ Sam said. He was stan
ding at the window peering out through the blinds. ‘Look.’

  The larger of the Cuban men was leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the street, watching the doorway of the hotel. He didn’t give the impression he’d be leaving his lookout post any time soon.

  ‘There must be a back way out here,’ I said.

  Billie was at the door again. ‘I’ll go down to reception and ask the old woman.’

  She was back five minutes later. ‘Right, let’s get packed up and get out of here. There’s an exit that gives on to an alley at the back that will bring us out further up the street. We can bypass him.’

  ‘How’s the old girl?’ I said, guilty that I hadn’t intervened when the Cubans were showing her my photograph; but it would have been madness to do so.

  ‘She’s okay,’ Billie said. ‘She’s got a nasty cigarette burn on her arm, but no other damage.’

  ‘Who burned her? The woman?’

  Billie nodded.

  ‘It figures.’ I said. Billie looked at me quizzically but I didn’t elaborate. ‘Okay. Get packed and we’ll get out of here.’

  Sam didn’t look happy but he went back to his room, and when Billie and I emerged from hers he was standing outside in the hallway, a packed holdall sitting at his feet and his laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

  We bypassed the Cuban thug easily.

  Before we left the hotel I pressed a hundred dollar bill into the old lady’s hand and thanked her for her help. She said nothing but stared down at the cigarette burn on her arm, then spat on the floor. Words were unnecessary.

  I’d left the Jeep some way from the hotel. Once we reached it, we threw the luggage into the back and I headed across to the main part of town.

  ‘What if they’re watching the boat?’ Billie said as we drew near.

  It had crossed my mind too. I called Stevie on her mobile phone. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Who’s calling please?’

  ‘Stevie, don’t mess about. I need you to get down to The Lady and take her out.’

  ‘Then I’m still crewing for you. I mean, how long is it since you bothered to check?’