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

by Len Maynard

  ‘Is Brooks always like that?’

  ‘What, an asshole you mean? Yeah, pretty much.’

  ‘You have my sympathy.’

  He smiled. ‘I appreciate it.’

  A few minutes later, as I was walking back to Alan’s boat, I heard one of the helicopters start up and take off.

  69

  ‘I didn’t know they made them like Brooks anymore,’ Billie said as I walked into the Princess’s lounge. She went across to Alan’s drinks cabinet and poured herself a stiff whisky. ‘Can I get anyone else a drink?’

  ‘Chivas Regal,’ I said. ‘Brooks is one of a kind. Henderson said he was a stickler for the rules. He wasn’t far off the truth.’

  ‘Do you think he believed your story about Kim’s death?’

  ‘Not for one moment, and I don’t think Grant and Cooper were convinced either, but they’re going to have a difficult job proving otherwise, as long as Stevie keeps her mouth shut. I take it you got rid of the flare gun?’

  ‘That’s long gone,’ Billie said. ‘And Stevie won’t say anything. She’s got no desire to spend the next twenty years in prison.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Do you mind if I ask a question?’ Sam said.

  ‘Oh, not tonight, Sammy,’ Billie said. ‘Harry looks all in.’

  ‘No, I’m okay. Ask away.’

  ‘It’s just that something doesn’t hang together. Dylan planted the bomb in the car to stop Alan from making the meeting with an FBI agent. After the car exploded Alan ran. The meeting never took place. So where is the FBI man now? Is he still on the Islands? And what part is the Bureau playing in all this?’

  I nodded. ‘I’m asking myself the same question, and it will probably occur to Brooks too, once he’s gone through all the statements. He’ll be furious.’

  ‘Good,’ Billie said. ‘He deserves a sleepless night.’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t,’ I said. ‘I’m turning in. There’s another bedroom if you and Sam don’t mind sharing. Single beds.’

  ‘Suits me.’

  ‘Yeah, me too,’ Sam said.

  ‘As long as you don’t snore,’ Billie said.

  ‘As if I’d dare with you in the same room.’

  They disappeared below decks and I had every intention of doing the same; but then I saw the laptop computer sitting on the desk in the corner of the lounge. I went across, sat down at the desk, and switched it on. It took a moment to boot up. I took the flash drive that Alan had given me out of my pocket – the red one, the real one – and slipped it into the USB socket. A menu appeared on the screen and I clicked on Open Files.

  Unlike the Jack Dylan mockup I’d handed over to Brooks, this one was not encrypted, and I spent the next few hours searching through files, making notes, studying photographs, and trying to digest the implications of everything Alan had downloaded onto the flash drive. I’d thought the information on Jack’s mockup was dynamite. This was, in comparison, a nuclear warhead.

  When I finally removed the stick and closed down the computer, my head was reeling, and I was starting to feel totally out of my depth.

  I hadn’t mentioned this flash drive to the police, and I’d had no intention of handing it over to them, at least not until I’d checked it out and removed any evidence that might have incriminated Alan. Now I doubted my wisdom.

  I went to bed and lay there tossing and turning for another hour before finally falling into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of friendship, betrayal, and murder.

  70

  The weather had cleared by the next morning. The sun was set in a clear blue sky and sharing its warmth with everyone. So why did I wake up feeling incredibly gloomy? The prospect of going to Freeport to give my statement and another run in with Brooks certainly didn’t lighten my mood, and thoughts of Alan in his hospital bed depressed me still further. As if she was reading my mind, Stevie rang me on my mobile phone.

  ‘How’s Julius?’ I said.

  ‘They’ve patched him up. Now he’s sitting up in bed and flirting with all the nurses.’

  I laughed. ‘That’s Julius; never can resist a pretty face.’

  There was a pause. I could sense Stevie standing there, waiting for me to ask the question. ‘Well?’ she said finally.

  ‘How’s Alan?’ I said.

  ‘Not good. He’s conscious, and he’s pulled his lawyers in for a meeting. They’re in there now.’

  Lawyers? I thought. Perhaps he’s preparing his defense.

  Stevie continued. ‘But I spoke to one of the doctors when we arrived last night, and he didn’t sound optimistic. There’s a lot of ‘internal trauma,’ as he put it.’

  I took that in. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘And how are you?’

  ‘I’m fine. They stuck a Band-Aid on my arm and kept me overnight for observation, but they’re letting me go this morning. I’ll have to find a way to get back to Freeport.’

  ‘What are you doing for money?’

  ‘Credit card.’

  ‘Right. Find a hotel close to the hospital and check in. I’ll be over as soon as I can.’

  ‘Harry, you have to be kidding. Do you know the rates of the hotels around here? I can’t afford it.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the money. I’ll cover the bill. But I want you close by. If Alan takes a turn for the worse I want you to call me.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said lightly. For once she didn’t argue with me. ‘I’ll hang around the hospital and call you if I have any updates on his condition.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘It’s important. I know how you feel about him, what he’s done. This is for me, okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I know it is.’ She hung up.

  Alan’s boat was well appointed. I showered quickly. Alan had some clothes in one of the wardrobes, and fortunately we were close to the same size. I found a cream tee shirt and a pair of grey slacks that more or less fit, slipped them on, and went down to the kitchen.

  Billie was already there, and she’d made coffee.

  ‘Want a cup?’

  ‘Sure. Is Sam still in bed?’

  ‘Sleeping like a baby. And guess what? He doesn’t snore. Relief. I actually managed to get some sleep.’

  ‘I’m taking the boat over to Nassau this morning. Alan’s in a pretty bad way.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. Don’t the police want you in Freeport to give your statement? They want us there to give ours.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘But they can wait. I have things to do first. Stevie’s at the hospital, and she said she’ll call me if there’s any news, but it should be me there, not her.’

  ‘She’s a good kid,’ Billie said.

  ‘One of the best. She’s been through a lot lately and I’d hate to see her hurt again,’ I said pointedly.

  Billie looked at me steadily. ‘She’s a big girl, Harry, and more than capable of looking after herself. But no, I won’t hurt her,’ she said.

  ‘No. No, of course you won’t,’ I said. ‘If I get you and Sam to Nassau you can get a charter back to Freeport. Would that suit?’

  ‘That’s fine. Don’t worry about Sam and me. Regular rolling stones, both of us.’

  ‘I don’t think Sam’s going to get his interview with Alan.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’ Sam appeared in the doorway of the kitchen looking disheveled and half asleep. He yawned. ‘A shame, but I think I can carry on with the book without his input. It’ll just be a slightly different book, that’s all.’

  71

  We were halfway to Nassau when Billie said, ‘You’re very quiet.’

  ‘I’ve a lot on my mind,’ I said. We were on the flying bridge and I was pushing the Princess’s engines hard. Sam seemed to be getting over his seasickness problem and was sitting on the sundeck, looking for all the world as if he was enjoying the trip.

  ‘You’re worried about Alan?’

  ‘That…and other things.’

  ‘Want to share?’

  ‘Not at the moment.’

  ‘
Fair enough. You’re a dark horse, Harry Beck,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I think you’re one of the most open people I’ve ever met, other times you’re about as deep as a blue hole. It’s unusual. I’m normally pretty good at reading people, but a lot of the time you have me baffled.’

  I was concentrating on piloting the Princess. ‘How do you want me to respond to that?’ I said without looking at her.

  ‘I don’t, I guess. I just wanted you to know that if you need to talk things through, you could do worse than bend my ear, that’s all.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Billie,’ I said.

  ‘But keep my nose out of your business, right? It’s okay. I understand.’ She made her way down to the sun deck and sat herself down next to Sam.

  My stomach lurched as my mobile phone rang. It was Stevie.

  ‘You need to get here fast, Harry. Alan’s asking for you.’

  ‘I’m on my way there. How is he?’

  ‘Bad, Harry. Really bad. They’ve called in a priest.’

  ‘Alan’s not Catholic. He’s not religious at all. Why call a priest?’

  ‘I think they’re working on the assumption that he needs as much help as he can get.’

  I felt sick. ‘We’re an hour away from Nassau,’ I said, glancing at the read out on the GPS. ‘It will take another thirty minutes to get from the harbor to the hospital. Can you get in there and sit with him? Tell him I’ll be there shortly.’

  ‘I’ll do what I can, Harry.’

  ‘Thanks, Stevie.’

  I eased the throttle forward, nudging the Princess towards her maximum speed. As the boat bounced over the waves my mind replayed events of the past few days. I hadn’t really had time to digest them.

  Since the explosion of Alan’s Mercedes I’d been carried along on a raft of action and reaction, but now, standing on the flying bridge of the Princess, with the wind blowing in my face and the waves disappearing under the boat’s hull, I had time to review what had happened, and to consider what my next move would be. Despite the police involvement, this affair was a long way from being over…at least as far as I was concerned.

  It didn’t look as if Alan was going to make it through the day. Another death, another victim of a group of evil men and women who had chosen a path in life alien to my own, and to the rest of decent humanity. I couldn’t, in all conscience, sit back and let the police take over the case from here on in.

  My time spent reviewing the information on Alan’s flash drive had been well spent. I was in possession a lot of information now; I was no longer shooting in the dark. I now had names and faces to hang this evil on, and I was damned if those who had been sacrificed to feed the perverted lust of a few sick bastards would have died in vain.

  72

  Stevie was there to meet me as I pulled up in a taxi outside the hospital. I had moored at the harbor and said my farewells to Billie and Sam, promising to look them up once I got back to Freeport. I owed it to them to let them know the conclusion to this affair.

  Stevie had been crying. There were damp streaks down her cheeks.

  ‘Am I too late?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not crying for him, though I was so horrible the last time I spoke to him.’

  ‘We’ve all said things and done things over the past few days we’ll probably live to regret,’ I said. ‘Alan included.’

  She sniffed back the tears. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I’ll take you to his room. I should warn you though, Nona Flood’s here. She’s brought your father.’

  I swore under my breath. He was the last person I wanted to see right now.

  Stevie led me through the antiseptic corridors to the elevator. We reached the second floor and stepped out into another corridor. Nona Flood was the first person I saw. She approached me, her face inscrutable.

  ‘What can I say, Nona? I’m sorry.’

  She ignored my apology. ‘I’ve spoken to Julius. It was his own damned fault. Getting shot, at his age. The man ought to know better. Still, he’s going to be all right, so no harm done. But if he keeps on flirting with the nurses, he’ll realize that a bullet in the chest is the least of his worries.’ She threw her arms around me and held on tight. ‘Thank you, Harry, for bringing my man back to me.’

  I realized she was crying. I stroked her hair. ‘Stevie said my father is here.’

  I felt her nod her head against my chest. ‘He’s in with Alan now. He’s not handling it very well.’

  I wondered if he’d handle it any better had I been the one on the hospital bed. ‘I should go in,’ I said. ‘Stevie, keep Nona company.’

  I left them in the corridor and walked into Alan’s room. My father was at the bedside, holding on to Alan’s hand, mumbling to him, tears coursing down his face. He looked around as I entered. ‘Come and sit with your brother.’

  He pushed himself up from the chair, leaned over Alan, and kissed him lightly on the forehead. ‘Goodbye, son,’ he said, and left the room, pausing at the door to look at Alan one last time, then he gave a sob in his throat and stepped out into the corridor, closing the door behind him.

  I felt a lump form in my throat. I swallowed and went to sit next to the hospital bed,

  Alan was unresponsive, wired up to a vital signs machine. Tubes in his arms were drip-feeding him drugs, electrodes were on his chest, and an oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth.

  I rested a hand on his arm. ‘I’m here, Alan.’

  For a second or two he didn’t respond, but then his eyes flickered open. ‘I fucked up,’ he said in a voice that sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. He gestured to the carafe of water on the nightstand.

  I poured some into a glass, moved the oxygen mask to one side, and put it to his lips. He took a sip.

  ‘Sally…Anna…look after her,’ he said, his eyes rolling in his head. Wherever his mind was it was a place where his wife and daughter were still alive. I had no desire to shatter the illusion.

  ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’ll look after them.’

  ‘Knew you would. You’re a good friend, Harry. My brother. How about that, eh?’

  ‘Don’t talk. Save your strength.’

  His eyes cleared. ‘Save it for what? I’m dying.’ He gripped my hand fiercely and hauled himself up so that his face was just inches from mine. ‘Bring them down, Harry. Bring the bastards down.’

  ‘I will, Alan. I promise.’

  He flopped back on the bed. ‘Yeah,’ he said weakly. ‘I know you will.’ He closed his eyes.

  An alarm went off in the room, and seconds later two medics rushed in pushing a crash cart. They defibrillated him, but it was too late.

  Somewhere Alan Lancaster was touching the sun. I hoped he was satisfied at last.

  Stevie wrapped her arm around me as I walked from the room. ‘I’m sorry, Harry. I’m so, so sorry.’

  ‘I need some air,’ I said.

  ‘Sure.’

  As I walked out into the hospital parking lot my mobile phone rang. It was Henderson.

  ‘They found Reynolds,’ he said.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Dead. They found him in a warehouse downtown. He was shot up pretty bad.’

  ‘Jim, I need you to do me a favor.’

  ‘I don’t know, Harry. They’re waiting for you to come in to the station. You should be here.’

  ‘Alan died five minutes ago. I’m in Nassau at the Princess Margaret hospital.’

  ‘Oh, Harry, man, I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yeah. So will you do something for me?’

  ‘Go on,’ he said, and then listened as I told him what I wanted him to do.

  73

  I hung up the phone and headed back to the hospital. Nona and my father were approaching the door, Stevie trailing along behind them.

  ‘I’m taking Lucas back to Barracuda,’ Nona said. ‘There’s nothing for him here now.’

  My father didn’t look up at me. He was lost in a very private world of grief, and it was a world that had no place in it
for me. I wondered briefly if I’d ever see the old man again. I doubted that I would, and the thought didn’t trouble me too much.

  ‘What about Julius?’ I said.

  ‘They’re keeping him for few days. I’ll be back in Nassau the day they release him. In the meantime he’s got lots to occupy him. So many pretty girls. The best tonic a man like Julius can have.’ Nona played the role of the long-suffering wife well, but there was never any doubt in my mind that their marriage, if not made in Heaven, was formed in one of its anterooms.

  ‘I’m going to check out of the hotel, Harry,’ Stevie said. ‘I take it you’re going back to Freeport?’

  ‘I’m taking a detour first. Billie and Sam are booking a charter flight to take them back. Come with me in the taxi and I’ll get the driver to drop you off at the airport. You can travel back with them.’ I turned to Nona. ‘What about you and Lucas?’

  ‘Don’t you worry yourself about us, Harry. We’ll make our own arrangements.’

  I kissed her on the cheek and waited until their taxi had pulled away.

  ‘You’re not going to do anything stupid, Harry, are you?’ Stevie said.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ I said.

  ‘You can’t kid me, Harry. I know you too well.’

  We climbed into a taxi. ‘The airport,’ I said to the driver.

  ***

  ‘Stevie tells me you’re about to do something really stupid,’ Billie said to me shortly after we hooked up with her and Sam at the airport.

  ‘Stevie exaggerates,’ I said. ‘She always exaggerates.’

  We were in the main concourse, but Billie pulled me to one side, away from the others. ‘Don’t bullshit me, Harry. Are you following a lead? It’s important I know.’

  ‘Why? Do you want to come along and take pictures?’

  She glared at me. ‘You really are the most stubborn son of a….’ She reached into the pocket of her jacket and took out a small laminated card, handing it to me.

  With everything else that had happened lately, I really should have been expecting to see an FBI identity card, but I wasn’t and it shook me. ‘You?’ I said.