He held up his hand and shook his head, almost spilling the tea he was about to sip, “No, no, nothing like that Wilma.”
She plonked into the chair and put her hand on her chest, “Lordy, gave myself a fright for a moment.”
Roy set the glass down in case she got excited again, “I have no reason to think she’s not fine but I did come to ask you about your girl, Sydney.”
Wilma looked perplexed. “What in the world is going on with that girl? Just yesterday I had some strange fella coming to the door asking about her, saying he was some Cuban official of some sort but I didn’t know him and he sure didn’t look Cuban to me so I sent him packin’.”
That got Roy’s attention. “A man you say? Came asking about Sydney?”
“Sure did, I didn’t like him one bit, told him come back with someone I know, like you, and I’d talk to him then.”
Roy texted something from his phone before carrying on, “Okay let’s come back to that fella in a moment. So, where is Sydney at the moment, Wilma?”
“She’s at school in Florida. After that fella came I had Thomas get hold of her to make sure she’s okay and he said she was fine.”
“And this all happened yesterday?” he asked politely.
“Sure did, mid morning yesterday I’d say.”
Roy’s phone buzzed and he checked the text. “Here,” he said, holding up his mobile phone screen for her to see, “this your man at the door?”
“That’s him alright, ornery fella, weren’t no Cuban though. So what on earth is going on with my little girl Roy? Why is everyone asking about her?”
Roy smiled. “Nothing to worry about I’m sure, especially if Thomas spoke to her and she’s okay. Some possessions of hers were in that plane we found off the north side, you may have seen on the news? I’d like to talk to her and tell her I have some things of hers so I can get them back to her.”
Wilma stammered with a mix of concern and confusion, “In that plane that crashed? You don’t think Sydney was in that plane do you? Oh my God!”
Roy quickly moved to settle her down, “No Wilma, we know a young Cuban lad, Carlos Rojas was flying the plane.”
Wilma put her hands over her mouth in shock. “Carlos?! That’s Sydney’s boyfriend!”
“I figured he might be. I believe he may be fine Wilma, we haven’t recovered any bodies and I don’t know, but I suspect, whoever was in that plane survived the crash. If you’re sure Sydney is in Miami then we know she wasn’t on it at least.”
“I’ve never met the boy but Sydney started dating him in university, best I know he went back to Cuba to work but they still been dating. Lord, I pray he’s okay. She sure thinks the world of him, I do know that.”
“Why don’t we call Sydney and ask her what she might know about all this?” Roy offered. “Let’s call from your phone so she knows who’s calling.”
Wilma looked unsure. “I don’t normally call as it costs too much, we just have the local plan you see.”
“Then we’ll use mine,” Roy conceded. “What’s her number Wilma?”
She took a minute to fumble through her old flip phone and find her daughter’s mobile number which she read to the detective. He placed his phone on the table between them and put it on speaker. Without a single ring it went straight to voicemail and as Sydney’s greeting played out Roy suggested Wilma leave her a message.
“Hey honey, it’s mama. Been worried about you, got people here at home asking about you, give me a call as soon as you get this. Love you.”
Roy ended the call, thanked Wilma for all her help and assured her repeatedly that he felt everyone was okay. She saw him to the door and after reminding her to call him if the Russian came by again, they said their pleasantries and he walked towards his car.
As a detective he was used to people omitting pertinent details, twisting the truth or outright lying to him. He didn’t usually let it bother him, it came with the territory. But apart from Wilma, who clearly didn’t know anything, he was getting the distinct feeling everyone else around was leaving out all the key details, and it was starting to irk him.
Chapter 51
AJ drove her van slowly up Reg’s street, carefully keeping an eye on either side of the narrow road for out-of-place vehicles. She saw none, to her surprise. She pulled up in front of the house and backed into the driveway to the garage door, which opened as she approached. She kept reversing until the tail of the van was inside the garage before stopping. Hopping out, she went into the unlit garage and opened the rear doors of the van. Carlos and Sydney stood in the shadowy corner at the back of the garage by the door into the house.
“You ready?” AJ asked.
“We’re ready,” Carlos whispered back. “Thomas told us; scared the crap out of us when he sneaked in from the back though!”
“Yeah, sorry about that, no way to reach you otherwise,” AJ apologised.
She walked back to the driver’s door and got in the van, starting the engine. As soon as the back doors of the van had closed, she pulled out, leaving the overhead door closing on an empty garage. Turning left out of the driveway she sped back down the street and wiggled her way out of West Bay to Esterly Tibbetts Highway, the dual carriageway that ran behind the Seven Mile Beach shops and businesses. Just when she thought she had slipped away unnoticed she picked up a grey mid-size car in her rear-view mirror, a couple of hundred yards back. It looked a lot like the car from the West Bay dock car park that morning. It was tempting to stand on the accelerator a little harder and try to pull away but she resisted, her pulse quickening and her eyes flicking from the road ahead to the car behind her. Through the Camana Bay roundabouts the car drew closer but dropped further back on the stretch between the hospital and the AL Thompson’s roundabout. She took North Sound Road until the next roundabout, where she turned right on Elgin into the back of George Town, hoping the traffic wouldn’t be backed up. Sure enough the car followed; she had no doubt now she was being tailed by the Russian and she noticed her palms getting sticky with sweat, despite her air conditioner pumping in the van. Grabbing her mobile from the centre console she hit send on a text and returned her attention to the road.
What am I doing, she thought, this is madness. Calming herself down, she made it to South Church Street, a narrow-frontage road in town, and headed left past the tourist shops and restaurants. There was now one car between her and the grey saloon and she pushed the throttle down to speed away and get a gap. Half a mile out of downtown she braked hard and hung a right turn into Sunset House Hotel and Dive Resort on the waterfront, taking the first parking spot she could find. Looking back to the road she saw the car that had been between them go by, then nothing. She paused a moment, breathing like she’d run across town rather than driven; still nothing. Leaving the van she strode into the hotel office and made for the window overlooking the car park.
“They see you come in here?” Reg asked from behind her.
“I think so, they didn’t go past at least,” she replied without turning around.
The two waited anxiously, scanning the car park.
“Where were they watching from?” Reg asked.
“I’ve got no bloody idea,” AJ said, discouraged. “They’re good. I didn’t see them until they appeared behind me on the bypass.”
“There he is!” Reg growled, seeing Mikhail already at the back of AJ’s van. “That’s him, that’s the Russian, Gurov.”
“See what I mean?” AJ gasped. “Where the hell did he just come from? It’s like he dropped out of nowhere.”
Mikhail peeked in the back of the van then tried the door. It opened and he checked the interior quickly before closing the door again and moving around the far side of the van, out of their view.
“I tell you, he’s no diplomat or official or whatever other bollocks the Cubans claim he is, that bloke’s military.”
They waited some more but Mikhail didn’t reappear.
“Where did he go?” AJ looked all around from t
he window but he was nowhere to be seen.
Reg let out a sigh. “I tell you kid, this guy worries me, we’re playing with fire. Whittaker knows we’re involved, I can tell. We’re better off coming straight with him and letting him help.”
AJ turned and looked at Reg, registering the concern on his face. “I promised Carlos we wouldn’t, Reg. Believe me, I’m terrified we’re digging ourselves a hole but I promised I wouldn’t turn him in. He’s convinced they’ll hand him over to the Cuban government or at least hold him so he can’t get this to the press.”
They both froze at the sound of a monotone accented voice from around the corner at the hotel front desk.
“I’m looking for the young couple that just checked in, friends of mine, we’re supposed to meet here.”
Reg pointed at the door and they both quietly squeezed out as they could hear the receptionist tell him, “No one has checked in sir, in fact we’re full all week. Perhaps you have the wrong hotel?”
AJ ran to the van while Reg split along the back of the hotel building and ducked into Cathy Church’s camera shop. AJ fired up the van and backed out. Putting it in gear she swung around to leave just as Mikhail stepped out the door they’d escaped through. Their eyes locked for a moment. His was a cold steel stare, void of emotion, and she knew hers had to be a look of complete terror.
Chapter 52
Pearl pulled out of her driveway with Thomas in the passenger seat of her Jeep. Huddled down on the rear seat and floor were Carlos and Sydney, a blue rucksack wedged beside them containing nothing they actually owned. The clothes were borrowed, the food supplied and the much-sought-after hard drive belonged to the Republic of Cuba. It had seemed like forever waiting for AJ’s text telling Pearl it was clear to pick them up from the house, but they’d agreed they had to be sure the Russian had taken the bait. Now, as Pearl sped down the road heading for the yacht club, she was filled with a mix of adrenaline and fear. Thomas’s head was on a swivel watching for any suspicious vehicles following them as they had no idea how many people the Russians had with them. As AJ had noted, the boat they arrived in had room for a hundred agents and the airport had opened after the storm so who knew how many more had arrived. The more they spun scenarios around in their heads the more paranoid they got but they’d agreed the only fact they had was two Russians in one car… and possibly a bicycle, which they felt confident the Jeep could outrun.
It only took a few minutes to reach the yacht club marina where the Flemings kept their Bertram, a few piers down from Reg and AJ’s north-side berths. Pearl drove slowly through the marina car park making sure no one was following or watching them. The marina had been quiet all week, firstly with the storm and then the RCIPS had the North Sound restricted while they’d been investigating the plane crash. Access had been reopened this afternoon so a few recreational boaters and dive boat operators were busy coming and going. Confident they weren’t followed, Pearl parked the Jeep at the top of the jetty leading to the Rum Runner and she and Thomas got out and unlocked the security gate. Pearl continued down the deserted pier to open up the boat while Thomas retrieved the two fugitives and hustled them after her.
The Rum Runner was a beautiful boat, about seven years old but maintained to look like it was fresh in the water last week. A service had already been by and cleaned her exterior after the storm and the interior was cool and dry from the shore power running a tickle of on-board air conditioning a few times a day. Pearl turned on the lights but left all the curtains closed on the windows so no one could be seen moving around inside. Thomas brought Carlos and Sydney in through the sliding door from the stern deck.
“Wow.” Carlos looked around at the luxuriously appointed stateroom with fine wood cabinetry and plush carpet. “This is someone’s fishing boat?”
Pearl chuckled, “Yup, but it’s their pleasure yacht too, pretty nice huh?”
Carlos just nodded slowly, speechless. Sydney went forward past the galley to the cabins and found a main stateroom in the bow with an en suite bathroom, a guest stateroom and second bathroom.
“Check this out,” she called back, setting their bag on the bed as Carlos joined her.
“My God, this is nicer than any home I’ve ever been in,” he whispered.
Thomas checked the water was working in the kitchen sink and the fridge was cold, letting Pearl know it was all working. Pearl asked the two to come back to the lounge so she could run through the plan.
“Okay guys, you have running water and power so you can shower, water’s drinkable and the stove, microwave and oven will work. What you can’t use are the marine toilets as they can’t be emptied here in the dock. There’s a bathroom in the building in the car park and it’s quiet around here in the evening and at night except for the traffic coming to and from the two restaurants down the end. Just be careful and don’t be seen. Carlos, your picture has been all over the news and a lot of people know Sydney on the island.”
“We don’t know if they’ll release your picture as well now Whittaker is pretty sure you were on the plane,” Thomas added, looking at his sister.
“We’ll stay inside and out of sight; if we have to use the bathroom we’ll be quick and make sure we’re not seen,” Sydney assured them.
“Thank you, again,” Carlos said, the burden of what he was responsible for showing in his eyes. “I promise you saving the Jardines de la Reina is worth all you are risking for us.”
Sydney wrapped her arms around her boyfriend from behind and kissed him gently on the back of his neck.
“Come on Thomas, let’s leave them alone,” Pearl said, smiling.
“I’m ready, I can’t handle seeing my sister getting all lovey and stuff!” he said as he opened the door, laughing.
Chapter 53
Mikhail watched as AJ’s van disappeared down South Church street back towards town. Most men would be angry getting duped by a young girl but Mikhail wasn’t most men. He was annoyed, not that you could tell from his blank expression, but his analytical mind simply registered that the locals were not to be underestimated. More importantly they were actively hiding Carlos, which meant he was up against a wider group. The thought occurred to him, as he joined Anatoly in their hire car, that the detective could be collaborating with them too. The man seemed too ‘by the book’ for that, but they were all being a pain in the arse.
“Where now?” Anatoly asked.
“The girl’s apartment,” Mikhail ordered as his mobile rang from a local island number.
“Gurov,” he answered sternly.
“Hello there Mr. Gurov, this is Detective Whittaker of the Royal Cayman Island Police Service.”
“Can I collect my cases?” Mikhail snapped.
He sensed Whittaker was grinning when he replied, “We’re almost done with them Mr. Gurov but I did have a few questions for you. Could you meet me at the police station – we can chat there and see about the cases?”
Mikhail glanced at his watch. It was a few minutes after two o’clock. “Three pm, I’ll be there.”
“Thank y—” Mikhail hung up before Roy had finished.
Anatoly looked at his boss expecting a new plan but Mikhail just growled at him, “What are you waiting for? Girl’s apartment, let’s go.”
Chapter 54
AJ stepped from the shower and grabbed a towel. The main reason she wore her hair shorter was drying time. Her life was a constant stream of getting soaking wet, either in the ocean, a pool or showering after one of the other two. Short hair, combined with her decision to only wear make-up for evenings out, reduced her turn-around time considerably. She hurriedly towelled off and ran a brush through her hair before pulling a few drawers open on her dresser trying to decide what to wear. She rarely wore underwear during the day. It made more sense to wear a bathing suit under her clothes as she often had a change of plans, an extra dive or a swim to the moored boat required. She found a clean two-piece, threw a tee shirt over it and pulled on some cotton shorts that she’d only worn
once since laundry; they’ll be fine, she decided. Fifteen-minute turn-around, not many boys can match that, she thought proudly. Slipping into her Rainbow sandals, she grabbed her van keys and shot out the sliding door that doubled as her front door.
Standing under the warm shower had finally washed some of the tension and stress from earlier away. She breathed easier knowing Carlos and Sydney were hidden away somewhere no one could find and the plan was to stay away from the yacht club so none of them could be followed there. Tomorrow they’d pick them up and take them straight to wherever Sea Sentry had figured out to have this press conference. Later, she thought, maybe I’ll swing by Yacht Drive, across the water from the marina, and check in from afar. She had no idea how that would help but figured it would rest her mind at ease to at least take a look, much like staring at the trawler.
Crossing the garden between the guest house and the main building, she passed through the front gate to her van parked out front of the house on Boggy Sand Road. With errands to run and a part to pick up for the boat she headed out, careful to watch for the grey rental car on her street or following her down the road. She saw no sign of it.
She didn’t see it because Mikhail had Anatoly park it in the Fosters supermarket car park off West Bay road, and the two had walked around to Boggy Sand, where they hid in the bushes watching AJ leave. Once the coast was clear they easily opened the lock on the sliding door and stood inside her apartment. They had ten minutes before Mikhail needed to leave if he was to meet Whittaker on time but the apartment was small and they were both trained professionals. They knew two ways to perform a room search depending on what they were trying to achieve. The first was a warning or threat where they’d turn the place over, leaving it obvious you’d been there, designed to scare the resident. The second, which was more common, was the opposite: you left everything exactly as you found it. The two men carefully and efficiently worked from either ends of the home and checked every possible hiding place that may house a computer hard drive. They wore gloves, made sure their shoes were clean and left no marks and paid detailed attention to the position of every item so it would be restored to its original place. They passed over anything that wouldn’t relate to or contain the one thing they were looking for and in nine minutes closed the slider in full confidence the evidence was not in AJ’s apartment.
Gardens of the Queen Page 16