The Dead Sea

by Andrew Jackson

  She let out another sigh and reached across the table to touch his hand. She held it lightly against hers and rubbed his palm with her thumb.

  "You don't have to do this, Dan. You've already sacrificed so much."

  Dan took her hand in his, revelling in the warmth of her touch.

  "I have nothing left to lose, except you, and I'm not about to let that happen."

  She smiled at him and nodded. Accepting his committal with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

  "Then it's settled. I'll go to the police tomorrow with the pictures, see if they can do anything or have any interest in what we've got. If not, then we'll head back to the fish market and ask around ourselves. They have to get rid of the fish they catch, so someone must know something down there. Not everyone is afraid."

  "Certainly not you, Heather. That's for sure."

  With another warm smile and a promising wink of her eye, Heather rose from her seat.

  "Right now, I need a shower and a meal. Somewhere nice. Outside of these four walls."

  Battle plans drawn up, Dan felt more relaxed and at ease. She was right. They couldn't hide away forever, and his immediate future was now looking a whole lot better.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Erico tossed the camera onto the table next to Antonio Correia and waited. He'd taken a huge gamble in approaching the crime godfather of Fortaleza, but now, with all that had happened, he had no other choice.

  Lucas Machado, his onetime friend and mentor, had thrown him off La Mujer Codiciosa, vowing to kill him if he returned. It had been a heated and emotional argument that followed his return from confronting the woman. Lucas' words had cut him deeper than any knife.

  "You were my friend, Erico, I trusted you! Why did you get involved?"

  "It was only a woman. She is nothing to us."

  "Nothing? Can you not see what is happening? They will kill her! Will you do that if they ask you to?"

  Erico said nothing to his question. He had killed a man once before in a drunken brawl. It had meant nothing to him and still didn't. He had gained nothing from it and felt nothing in return. But to purposely kill someone for money, freedom, a ship. Would that be worth killing for?

  "He offered me my own ship, Lucas. What could I say?"

  His friend had turned on him then, furious at the remark. In the confines of his small cabin, Lucas had seemed a giant, and he loomed over Erico with his teeth bared and fists clenched.

  "My ship! He offered you my ship! It is bad enough that we must live under the yoke of these city filth, but to actively aid them in their crime...and murder...You disappoint me, Erico."

  "Don't stand there and lecture me! It was you who decided to accept Correia's offer. It is you who goes cap-in-hand to collect his coin for us all. You are no better than he is. None of us are."

  Some of the fight left his eye then and Lucas sat down on the edge of his bunk, deflated. Erico noticed lines in Lucas' face he hadn't seen before and a slight tremble in his hands that had never showed.

  "What have we become, Erico? Listen to us."

  He threw his legs up onto the bed and closed his eyes. Erico was about to leave, to resume his duties, thinking the matter dealt with.

  "We have been putting to sea together for years, Erico, but no longer. You have crossed a line. If I had not stopped you, what would you have done? Would you have murdered her? When we leave tonight you will be gone or I swear it I will kill you myself."

  "But, Lucas? Nothing came of it. I still have her camera, Miguel has not collected it yet, we could..."

  "Miguel won't be collecting the camera any time soon. He is dead, along with three of his friends. The one-eyed stranger seen to that. If you have any sense left in you, you will destroy the camera. Now go! All I want to do is get away from here and get out to sea. Life is much simpler there."

  Leaving behind a huge part of his life, Erico walked away from his friend and La Mujer Codiciosa.

  Correia examined the images contained in the camera and then pushed it back across the table. He sat for a while staring at Erico before speaking. Erico shuffled nervously from foot to foot, wary of the man before him, but more wary of the two heavily-armed henchmen who stood directly behind him, sneers spread wide across their faces, dismissive of the small quiet fisherman who demanded an audience with their boss.

  "So, what is it you want little man?"

  "Work. Money. What does everyone want?"

  "And what is it you think you can do for me that I cannot do for myself?"

  "I can find the woman."

  Correia steepled his fingers and stretched his neck, theatrically sucking in a deep breath through his teeth.

  "Can you now?"

  With a jerk of his head, Correia motioned to the two henchmen, who sprung forward. One of them held Erico tightly, with his arms pinned behind his back, while the other roughly frisked him from head to toe. When they'd finished, the man who'd searched him placed Erico's bone-handled knife on the table in front of Correia.

  "He's clean, boss. Took this off him though."

  Antonio Correia picked up the knife and examined the blade.

  "And how is it you know where she is?"

  "I looked through those pictures on the camera. When you look at the ones before the ships, you can see several of them are at the same location. It's a street I know on the far side of the city. I have friends living nearby. I spoke with them and they have seen her around."

  "And you would find her for me in exchange for what?"

  "A ship. A ship of my own. I can do what Lucas Machado can do."

  "Ahh, Captain Machado! He is a proud man. Very reluctant to help me in these troubled times. Miguel did not think much of him."

  Correia stood up and walked around the small table to face Erico. He was tall and slim, with a handsome face. His hair was immaculately groomed and his suit of the best quality Erico had ever seen. He still held the knife in his hand and used it to point at Erico, tapping the tip of the blade on Erico's chest several times to emphasis certain points.

  "I have many men. Why would I need another?"

  "Because I can find the woman and kill her for you. I can also captain a ship better than Lucas Machado. He is old now, and weak. I will serve you better and make you more money than he can."

  Correia let out a short burst of laughter, showing a gleaming set of pearly white teeth.

  "I like you, Erico! It is a deal. Find the woman and kill her, and you shall have your ship. The next time we speak you will be Captain Erico! The man, this one-eyed fighter that killed poor Miguel and my men, if you can, I want him alive. I would very much like to meet him."

  With a theatrical wave of his hand, Correia slammed the knife into the table, burying the blade deep into the wooden top. He left it there, smoothly swinging to and fro, as he turned back to face Erico.

  "But if you fail me, or if I find out you claim to be something you are not, I will skin you alive! Now go."

  Erico reached forward and freed the knife. He slipped it into the pouch in the small of his back, then left the building with a smile once more on his face.

  # # #

  Dan had chosen to sit in a booth in the corner of the restaurant opposite the entrance. From here he had a good view of the people entering, and a decent angle out through the glass frontage to the street beyond. The lighting in the quaint Italian restaurant they'd found had been dimmed and a small candle in the centre of each table was enough to provide an intimate and cosy atmosphere for diners.

  Opposite him, Heather shuffled in her seat and read through the menu. She wore a black dress which was cut low around the neck, exposing her shoulders and the top of her chest. A tiny silver necklace, which Dan had never noticed before, rested against her pale coloured skin. She looked beautiful, and Dan couldn't help staring at her as they sat in comfortable silence.

  He listened to the idle chatter of the couples next to them, discussing the weather, their families, jobs, subjects Dan had once discussed
with his wife. His former wife was but a distant memory now. The woman before him, however, was an entirely different matter.

  "So where will you go to when all this is over?"

  Heather closed the menu and rested it on the table, looking at Dan with a twinkle in her eye. She wore make-up for the first time since he'd known her and it too enhanced the natural beauty of her features, framed in her trademark long red locks, which even now threatened to cover her smiling face.

  She answered his question with one of her own.

  "Where will you go?"

  "Wherever I'm needed I suppose. It's not hard to find work for someone like me. There are any number of war-torn hell-holes to choose from."

  Her smile faded and she reached out to caress the scars on his head that ran from beneath his eye patch.

  "Have you not had enough of that sort of work?"

  "What else would I do?"

  She dropped her eyes back to the menu on the table and picked it up again, twisting a finger through the long threads of hair that ran across her shoulders before she spoke again, to answer his original question.

  "I'll go wherever I'm sent to. Like war-torn hell-holes, there are any number of ecological and environmental disasters to choose from."

  The waiter arrived and they ordered. The mood between them had soured a little and the silence grew uncomfortable once the waiter had left. Was Heather upset by his answer? What did she want him to say? That he'd travelled the world to be with her and would never leave her again? That was the truth of it, but Dan wasn't ready to just blurt it out to her yet. He had no idea if she was serious about him or not. So he decided to lighten the mood and change the subject.

  The tactic seemed to work, and the two of them chatted and eventually laughed their way through the rest of the meal. Dan tried to keep the conversation on Heather. Asking her questions about her past and her obsession with the natural world. She responded well to the conversation and it seemed that in no time they'd finished their meal and were heading for the door.

  Outside, the night was drawing in and a fresh breeze brought a slight chill to the air. Heather shivered and Dan drew his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She responded by snuggling in closer to him and wrapping her arms around his waist. As they walked back to her apartment, Dan felt more relaxed and at home than he ever had in is life. Why would he leave her? Why did he not just tell her that when she asked?

  Not wanting to spoil the night, he put those questions to the side, hoping they would answer themselves in time.

  In the apartment, Dan took a seat on the sofa, which had also been acting as his bed since his arrival. Heather sat next to him with a mischievous grin. She bounced up and down lightly on the cushion, testing it.

  "Not so comfortable eh?"

  Dan smiled back at her.

  "I've slept on worse."

  "I'll bet you have! But not tonight..."

  She took his hand and stood up, seductively drawing him towards the bedroom. Dan's heart leapt in his chest, and he followed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The smell of strong coffee was what greeted Heather when she woke the next morning, and when she opened her eyes, it was Dan who sat on the edge of the bed presenting it to her.

  He wore only trousers loosely belted at the top, and in the bright shafts of clear morning light that streamed in through the window she could easily make out old scars and wounds left behind on his body from years of conflict.

  She traced a finger over the worst of them as they sipped at their drinks. Then, unaware of what she was doing, she quickly forgot the scars and began running her hand over the hard rippled surface of his muscles. He allowed her to do it for a time, before giving in and pulling her close. The two of them kissed and cuddled on the edge of the bed until the coffee grew cold.

  Reluctantly, she threw the covers back and climbed out.

  "Well, I suppose we should try the police this morning. You up for that?"

  Dan lay back, nestling himself into the space she had just vacated. He stretched his arms behind his head, further exciting Heather with the exposure of yet more flesh and bulging muscle.

  "Not really, but I'll go with you. I don't want you out there alone. I can see you safely to the police station and then wait until you come out again. But remember, you haven't seen me since we came back to the harbour on the boat."

  "I know, I know. It just doesn't feel right."

  "If you want to go through with this then there's no other way."

  Heather nodded her agreement and walked away leaving Dan on the bed watching her. His eyes roving over her body didn't make her feel embarrassed or self-conscious at all, in fact she liked it.

  Heather got herself washed and dressed and eventually Dan did the same. She could hardly keep her eyes off him as they did so and more than once the two of them lapsed back into love-struck schoolchildren, giggling and rolling on the bed or kissing wildly like they might never do so again.

  When they were ready to leave, Dan insisted on going outside first to check the street, and as Heather hung around at the window she could see him reach in behind a wall at the rear of the apartment to retrieve something. The object was hid from her view as he had his back to her, but when he slipped a gun into the small of his back and pulled his top down to conceal it, Heather's giddy mood was quickly replaced by a feeling of fear and dread.

  Daniel Harpur, the man she had spent the night with, was a stone cold killer. She knew he was preparing for the worst, for what had already happened and they had only just survived because of him, but even so it sent a shiver down her spine and once again she pictured the look of horror and disbelief on the man's face as the spear she had fired plunged deep into his chest, piercing his heart and ending his life in an instant. She had told herself repeatedly that if she had not done it then he would have done the same to her, but even so, taking the life of another was a monumental act. For some it was easy. For Heather it was not.

  She knew that Harpur would not flinch in the face of death and would think nothing of killing another human being. But in her heart of hearts, Heather truly hoped that he would know the difference between necessity or self-defence, and murder. Sometimes she wasn't so sure.

  A few moments later, Dan stepped back in through the downstairs communal doors and called up for her to join him. Heather locked the apartment, made her way outside and found him at the corner of the block, standing in the shadows, looking up and down the street.

  She stopped beside him, linked her arm into his and pulled him out to join the other pedestrians going about their normal business on a weekday morning.

  "Dan, I can't slip from shadow to shadow all the way to the police station. Let's just walk like a normal couple until we get there. Then we'll separate while I go inside."

  Hesitantly, Dan gave in to her idea and his initially tense body soon settled as they mingled with the crowds and made their way across town to the nearest police station.

  About a block away, Heather could feel him tense again. She slipped her arm out from his and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

  "There's a cafe across the street from here. Wait there for me."

  "OK, but we passed a mall on the way here. I'm going to go back that way to get a phone, we need to stay in contact in case something happens. I just need some money?"

  "Oh...yeah...of course."

  Heather took out her wallet, handed him her bank card and told him the four digit pass code. Dan looked sheepish as he explained himself.

  "It's just that I ran out of money a while back. In and around the time you took all I had and spent it on a monkey, if I remember right."

  She smiled at the memory, and his awkward joke.

  "It was a tamarind! Now go, I'll be fine."

  Heather turned on her heel and walked off towards the police station. After a few steps she couldn't resist a peek, so she stopped to look back. Dan hadn't moved and was still there, watching her. She smiled at him again.
/>   At that point, he looked less like a killer and more like a kitten.

  # # #

  Once Heather had identified herself to the officer on the desk at the police station, she didn't have long to wait before a smartly dressed female approached to introduced herself.

  "Hello, my name is Detective Inspector Salma Portillo. This way please."

  Heather followed the woman through a door at the side of the waiting room which led into a long thin corridor, bounded on both sides by tall frosted glass partitions. She could hear hundreds of fingers tapping on keyboards, phones ringing and the inevitable chatter and banter of many people crammed into a small space. Some of the doors on either side were open and Heather caught a glimpse of life in the Brazilian police as she walked by.

  It was the same, she assumed, the world over and not a million miles away from her own former job in the Wildlife Investigation Agency. She felt sorry for the people stuck behind a desk, trapped there by red tape and bureaucracy, and vowed never to return there herself. She'd had a taste of life on the outside now, and for all the danger it entailed she wouldn't swap it back for all the world.

  The woman led her through a door at the end of the corridor which opened up into a spacious office. She indicated for Heather to sit on one of two comfortable chairs facing each other and then closed the door behind them. It blocked out most of the background noise, leaving an uncomfortable silence between them as the Detective Inspector gathered up a pen and some paper from her desk then slowly settled into the chair beside her.

  "Miss Walsh, we were beginning to worry about you. Mr Isaac Garcia had expressed some concern over your welfare after the incident at his premises."

  "I wasn't there."

  Heather regretted her quick response immediately and the quizzical look on the detectives eyes left her ill at ease.

  "Yes that is what Mr Garcia has told us also, but your friend, the one with the eye patch, he was?"

  Heather was startled and unprepared for such a direct line of questioning. She was still unsure about the lies she had to tell, and although she knew they would want to know something about Dan, her instincts told her this officer could see right through her.