Release: A gripping, fast-paced thriller

by Karen Moore

  ***

  Hanna looked at the time on the computer screen. 11.42am. She’d managed to get a lot done; it was so much easier to work when there were no distractions. She rose from her desk and went downstairs into the kitchen to make some coffee.

  Returning up the wooden stairs to her desk, she placed the steaming mug on the mat by the side of her laptop and started to browse news items on Sicily. Sergio’s by-line appeared frequently, mostly articles he’d written for his own newspaper, La Gazzetta della Sicilia, but also the occasional magazine piece.

  One particular story caught her eye: a recent report in a major Italian broadsheet on the Italian government clamp-down on boats bringing migrants across the Mediterranean from North Africa over the last year. Although it had resulted in fewer migrants travelling to Sicily (the usual first port of call), rescue ships had continued to operate until Italy closed its ports to them the previous month. The suggestion was that the clamp-down was resulting in traffickers resorting to ever more desperate efforts to ply their illicit trade.

  Hanna wondered whether Luciano would still be involved in people-trafficking despite the changed environment and his years in prison, or would he have been forced to turn elsewhere? Were there still fatalities, people drowning and forced to travel in squalid, cramped conditions? And were unscrupulous Sicilians, Luciano included, still profiting from their misery? She hated to think how likely this was.

  Her previous attempt to help had only resulted in a temporary reprieve. What else could be done? The situation seemed hopeless. Don’t get involved, she told herself, it’s too dangerous. It’s up to the authorities to take action, not you.

  The beep of a text alert on Hanna’s mobile phone broke her train of thought. A photo of Eva and Megan, standing by one of the zoo enclosures, with broad grins on their faces, a red panda in the background. They must be having a great day. Shame I couldn’t be there too, she thought wistfully, as she turned back to the computer screen.

  ***

  Rhys arrived home shortly after 7pm to the sultry strains of a samba floating through the stone cottage. Bryn bounded in by his side, heading straight for his bowl in the kitchen.

  “That dog, he’s always hungry!” He kissed Hanna by way of greeting. “Where’s Eva?”

  “She’s staying over at Megan’s tonight after their trip to the zoo. I’m going over there in the morning to pick her up. Good day?”

  “Yes, fine, thanks. We’ve been out repairing stiles and way-markers most of the day. Hot, sweaty work in this weather. What about you?”

  Hanna smiled ruefully. “Well, I’ve been stuck inside all day, but at least I’ve got everything sorted for the show now.”

  “That’s great! Think I’ll go and have a quick shower,” said Rhys, disappearing upstairs into the bathroom.

  “Don’t be long. Dinner’s nearly ready,” Hanna shouted after him. The sound of the jets being turned on masked his response.

  She went back into the kitchen to check the food in the oven, then uncorked a bottle of Nero d’Avola and poured out two glasses. No time to let it breathe. She took a sip as she prepared a salad, humming along to the Latin American beat. As she was carrying it over to the table, she spotted Rhys at the top of the stairs emerging from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. His face was pink and glowing from the steam, and damp locks clung to his cheeks and forehead.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll throw some clothes on first!” He grinned and vanished, reappearing a few minutes later in a t-shirt and jeans.

  Hanna carried a steaming dish of pasta over to the table.

  “Wow, that looks so good! I’m famished!” He greedily eyed up the food.

  Hanna laughed. “You’re just like Bryn!”

  “Must be all the fresh air and hard work that does it. What’s in it?”

  “It’s a pea, pesto and sausage lasagne. I got it out of the freezer this morning, completely forgetting that Eva wouldn’t be here. There’ll probably be loads left over without her here to eat it.”

  “I wouldn’t bank on it!” Rhys said as he dished out two generous portions, handing one to Hanna. “By the way, I popped into the office to check the computer. I’ve managed to track down the rental agreement on your old cottage.”

  “Oh? I thought you couldn’t find it?”

  “It’d been saved in the wrong folder. In last year’s rentals rather than this year’s. Easy mistake to make.” He levered a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

  “And?” she asked, impatient to hear more.

  “Well, it’s a holiday let made out to a Gareth Jones for a period of four months, which is quite unusual in itself. Normally, the longest rental allowed is three months. The address he’s given is in Llanberis, so he’s a local.”

  Hanna chewed a mouthful of food thoughtfully. “So, where do all the young girls fit in?”

  “No idea. It all seems a bit bizarre.”

  “So, what now?”

  “Well, I’ve got a hunch that I’d like to follow up, but it’ll have to wait until the weekend when I can go up there again.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hanna left the cottage just after 9.30 the next morning, eager to get out after being cooped up inside the day before. It was a beautiful day, already warm, with a clear blue sky and light breeze. She was in no hurry, having met her deadline for the press packs the day before. The prospect of a leisurely drive through the scenic Conwy valley to the pretty hamlet where Megan’s family lived was appealing.

  She started up the car and switched on the radio which responded with a harsh-sounding rap. She replaced it with an easy-listening channel and soon joined the sparse traffic heading east on the A55. At a whim, she turned off before Conwy to take the Fairy Glen road through the Sychnant Pass. It was one of her favourite routes and a place she often visited with Eva, the two of them making up their own fairy stories whenever they went up there.

  Shortly after the Fairy Glen Hotel, as the road started its ascent through the pass, her phone rang. As Ceri’s name and number flashed up on the display, Hanna touched the screen to respond. “Any news?”

  “Yes, can you talk?”

  “I’m driving on hands-free but I’m pulling over now.” Hanna steered the car into a small lay-by, just before the road narrowed. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, the original informant has completely disappeared. Sergio’s heard from another source that Luciano’s business kept going while he and his father and brother were in prison. It was being run by two of his cousins, apparently, despite the recent crackdown on letting migrant ships through.”

  Hanna remembered the recent newspaper article she’d read. “Really? So, nothing has changed. Not even a temporary lull in their activities. We’ve not achieved anything.” Her heart felt like a lead weight in her chest.

  “Apart from escaping a death threat and rescuing Eva, you mean? That was pretty major. Bringing Luciano to justice was always secondary, wasn’t it?” said Ceri.

  “Yes, you’re right,” Hanna sighed, still feeling downhearted. “But I’d hoped he might have been stopped in his tracks, at least for a while.”

  “The important thing is that you’re both safe now. Trying to fight organised crime is like trying to struggle against an incoming tide, you know that. You’re lucky to be well away from all that now.”

  “But am I? Any news about whether Luciano’s likely to come after us?”

  “Nothing, I’m afraid. We’re not even sure where he is at the moment, so it’s going to be difficult to get any more information on him for now.”

  Hanna sighed again, her eyes misting over. The spectre of her past was ever-present, lurking in the background. Would it never leave her?

  “There’s more news,” Ceri continued. “The police have uncovered a massive Mafia fraud of EU funding destined for Sicilian farmers. There’ll be loads of arrests in the next couple of days. Sergio’s really excited – he’s had exclusive access to a lot of information through his contacts, so his
story will be pretty much a scoop. He’s hoping that the foreign media will pick it up. Great for his career prospects.”

  Hanna didn’t know what to say. It seemed wrong somehow to advance your career on getting insider information on Mafia activities. Wrong, and dangerous too, she thought, distractedly weaving an elastic band round her fingers. “Has he thought any more about that job offer on the mainland?” she asked.

  “He’s still considering it. He may even end up with more offers once this story is published; who knows?” Ceri sounded thrilled at the prospect.

  No doubt it was easy to be swept up by Sergio’s journalistic ambitions, but this was no impartial media environment he was working in. This was one where influence could be bought, and opponents easily disposed of. Was Ceri forgetting this?

  “Just be careful, Ceri. Both of you. All this proves that the Mafia still has a stronghold on the island, and we know they don’t treat their enemies too kindly. Or even opposing clans. Look what happened to Pino.”

  Ceri fell silent, then said, “You’re right. I was getting carried away, what with the wedding and all.”

  “How’s it going? Any last-minute nerves or change of mind?”

  Ceri laughed nervously. “No, of course not! You are still coming, aren’t you?”

  “You ask me this every time we speak,” said Hanna. “Yes, as long as nothing else happens…”

  “I’ll let you know if it does. And keep your eye out for news on the arrests over the next few days.”

  “Will do.”

  Hanna ended the call, feeling uneasy, and unsure as to whether she had anything to fear from Luciano or his rivals. The prosecutors and the police posed more of a risk to him than she did. But what if he still wanted revenge, or tried to get Eva back?

  Chapter Ten

  As Ceri had predicted, an article appeared in The Daily Herald on Saturday morning about the Mafia EU farming sting in Sicily and a massive police raid at dawn that had resulted in over 70 arrests. The operation had involved more than 500 paramilitary carabinieri and financial police. Among the arrests were the heads of two clans, several public officials who helped farmers apply for EU aid, a local mayor, and an accountant. The media story was dubbed as exclusive, and attributed to Sergio.

  Hanna read through the article quickly as she gobbled down her breakfast, an icy shiver running through her body. She remembered hearing the story of three sisters whose farm near Corleone was being terrorised by the Mafia, their crops systematically ruined, their animals killed. They had refused to bow to the pressure and pay the protection deal on offer. Instead, they had complained to the authorities, which hadn’t gone down well with the local community. Whether the sisters had managed to win their battle, she wasn’t sure. If the Mafia could do that to their fellow-Sicilians…

  “My God, that’s quite some raid,” said Rhys, reading over her shoulder. “Is that a new side-line for organised crime in Sicily?”

  She shrugged. “There’s big money involved. Sergio reckons it’s been going on for a while. It must have, given the scale of the operation. Proving it, though, is something else. And making the charges stick is quite another.”

  Rhys rattled his car keys. “Shall we make a move?”

  Hanna nodded and swallowed her last mouthful of coffee. “We can drop Eva and Bryn off with Nerys. That way, they won’t disturb us at the cottage.”

  “Good idea. It may still all come to nothing…”

  “You’ve not told me what your hunch is yet.”

  Rhys smiled apologetically. “I’ll explain on the way up there.”

  Hanna went into the kitchen and called out to Eva who was playing in the back garden with Bryn. She picked up a flask of coffee and stuffed a sweater into Eva’s new rucksack in case it turned chilly. Although the bag had been bought for school, her daughter insisted on using it straight away. Eva came running in.

  “Right, we’re off. You and Bryn can spend an hour or so with Auntie Nerys and the animals, OK?”

  The little girl’s face lit up. “Great! Maybe I can take the alcapas for a walk?”

  Hanna laughed at her mispronunciation and ruffled her hair. “Yes, maybe you can. Come on, gang, let’s hit the road!”

  ***

  Hanna pulled a light fleece over her head, then poured some coffee into the cup from the thermos flask. “Want some?” she asked, proffering it to Rhys.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the cup from her and setting the high-powered binoculars down on the grassy bank beside him.

  A cool breeze had arisen in the forty or so minutes they’d been there, and the chill was starting to get to them.

  From this track high above the cottage, they had a clear view of the stone building and the surrounding land. But up to now, there were no signs of life: no people, no vans, no animals. The place looked deserted and neglected, as if no one were living there, the curtains drawn and the garden overgrown. Hanna was getting restless; perhaps she should have stayed with Eva and Nerys.

  “You don’t think they’ve moved on, do you?” she asked tentatively.

  “What, from a few days ago? Don’t think so.”

  “Only asking,” she said, shifting uncomfortably from her prone position on the bank.

  Rhys sipped his coffee, then picked up the binoculars again, glancing at his watch as he did so. The low growl of a loaded transit van came into earshot, growing louder as it drew nearer, struggling to negotiate the climb.

  “There you are!” Rhys whispered triumphantly. “Just as I thought!”

  Hanna looked at him quizzically. He still hadn’t explained his theory. The van progressed slowly along the rough track towards the cottage. Rhys altered the focus of the binoculars. Eventually the van ground to a halt and two men emerged from the front, disappearing around the vehicle to open the back doors. Even without binoculars, Hanna could make out a group of about eight or ten young black girls, looking no older than thirteen or fourteen, carrying small holdalls. Some were dressed in sombre clothes, while others wore brightly-coloured wax prints that Hanna thought looked to be of African origin. They looked so out of place in the Welsh hills. The men quickly ushered them into the house.

  “So, what was it you were thinking?” she asked.

  Rhys lowered the binoculars and looked at his watch again.

  “Given the time, I think the van may have picked these girls up from the Dublin ferry at Holyhead.”

  “Really? What gave you that idea?”

  “I could be wrong, but it was something you said about the voluntary work that Ceri’s doing. I think there could be a connection…”

  Before Hanna had a chance to reply, one of the men emerged from the cottage and marched towards the van. He looked vaguely familiar. She snatched the binoculars from Rhys and raised them to her eyes. She could see the face of the man clearly now. Her heart started to pound, and her breath grew increasingly shallow.

  “Oh my God, I don’t believe it! It can’t be...” She took another look. “Christ, it is him! That’s Angelo, one of Luciano’s cousins. What the hell’s he doing here?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Hanna and Rhys observed the cottage for another hour or so in silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts. Hanna’s head was pounding, an acrid taste in her mouth. Nagging fears gripped her, almost sending her into a panic. Could Angelo be one of the cousins who had been running the family business while Luciano was in prison?

  Stay calm, she remonstrated, there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. But what, she didn’t know. Whatever it was, she felt Angelo’s presence so near to home presented a real threat to their safety, their lives. Her head churned as she tried to grapple with her thoughts and come up with a plausible explanation.

  She became conscious of Rhys stirring beside her. He stretched and stood up.

  “It’s all gone quiet at the cottage for the minute. The girls and one of the men are inside. The other one you say is Luciano’s cousin has gone off in the van. It doesn’t look as
if he’s coming back anytime soon. I think we should call it a day. You coming?” He gently nudged her arm with his foot.

  “Sorry I was miles away.”

  “Now we’ve confirmed something fishy is going on, we just have to find out exactly what. Let’s go back to Nerys’ and think what to do next.”

  ***

  Hanna found Eva standing in Nerys’ kitchen, looking bedraggled. Her clothes were splattered in mud, her hands grubby, and she had a dirty splodge on one cheek. By her side, Bryn wagged his tail. The kitchen floor was covered with muddy pawprints.

  “What the heck have you two been up to?” she asked.

  “We’ve been out with the alcapas!” Eva replied with a grin. “We had great fun! But Eric got a bit excited, and I fell over.”

  Nerys smiled apologetically. “Hanna, I’m really sorry,” she said, drying her hands on a tea towel. “I meant to get her all cleaned up before you got back. We took the alpacas out for a walk and Eric became pretty lively and tried to bolt. Strange for him as he’s usually quite docile. Must have been the wind that made him frisky. Anyway, Eva was holding his lead and he pulled her over. No harm done, though; just a grazed knee as far as I can see.”

  “No worries, these things happen,” Hanna replied, knowing instinctively from Eva’s reaction and the lack of histrionics that it was only a minor scrape. Bending down to examine the little girl’s knee more closely, she could see a few spots of dried blood where the skin had been broken.

  “Nothing serious, you’ll live!” she declared, ruffling Eva’s messy hair, vowing to take her for a haircut in the coming week before it became totally unmanageable. “But we will need to clean it up.”

  “Go ahead,” said Nerys, waving her arm in the direction of the bathroom. “You’ll find antiseptic cream and dressings in the bathroom cabinet.”

  Hanna was steering Eva towards the door before she could object when Rhys came in. He raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question, having presumably caught the last bit of conversation.