Bluewater Stalker: The Sixth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 6)
Page 13
****
"All done?" Véronique asked as Dani approached the counter.
"Yes. It should be in the printer by now."
Véronique smiled and nodded as she turned and picked up the page. She ran her eyes down it as she reached for the official stamp from the shelf under the counter, stopping when the name William Fitzgerald caught her eye on the passenger list. She pondered that for a moment, and then looked up at Dani with raised eyebrows and slightly parted lips.
"What's the matter, Véronique? You look puzzled."
"Is 'Bill' how you might call someone in place of 'William,' as a …, a …"
"Nickname?"
"Yes, a nickname. That is the word. Anyway …"
"You're right. Bill is a familiar form of the name William. Why?"
Véronique shook her head, frowning as she inked the stamp and applied it to the paper. She took out her three-ring binder and began making an entry as Dani put some Euro coins on the counter to cover the check-in fee. "What's the matter, Véronique?"
Deciding her pleasant interactions with Dani and Liz over the last two years outweighed the attraction she felt for the handsome stranger, Véronique told Dani about the man who had come in yesterday, describing his dark, curly hair and sparkling blue eyes. "An American," she concluded.
"He sounds handsome, like he could make a girl's whole day," Dani said.
"Yes, that is so." Véronique blushed, and then went on. "He said that after he surprise his friend on Vengeance, he will call me and we can do something together."
Dani waited, thinking.
"But, Dani?"
"Yes?"
"I think he will not call me, because it cannot be that he is this Bill Fitzgerald, if Bill Fitzgerald is your guest."
"I think you are right. If he does call, tell him you will call him right back. Then you call me and we will think about what to do, okay?"
"Yes. That is what I will do."
"It's very important that you do not meet this man alone, Véronique. He may be dangerous." As Dani explained a little of what had happened, Véronique lost the color in her face and chewed her lips. "Do you still have his cell phone number?"
"Yes." Véronique picked up the card with his number on the back and passed it to Dani with trembling fingers.
Holding the card by its edges so as not to smudge any fingerprints, Dani folded it into the clearance document and put them both in her shoulder bag.
"Don't worry, Véronique. There are some people in town already looking for this man; I'll make sure they keep a watch on you and the café, okay?"
"Police?"
"Close enough. They work for the government," Dani said, thinking it wasn't exactly a lie. They did sometimes work for certain governments, maybe even the French government, for all she knew.
"Thanks for telling me, Véronique. You did the right thing."
"It is nothing, Dani. Au revoir."
"Okay, Véronique. I'll call you later. Don't worry."
Chapter 19
"How did she describe him?" Phillip asked.
"Just under six feet tall, fit-looking, but no abnormal muscles. She said he had dark, curly hair and wonderful blue eyes."
"That could describe David Cardile," Liz said.
"David Cardile?" Marie looked perplexed.
"Another professor. He's a friend of Bill Fitzgerald's; we ran into him in Bequia," Liz explained.
"He was meeting them there?"
"The meeting was supposedly a coincidence," Dani said. She filled Marie in on David and the story about his literary agent.
"Is there any way to find out if he's still in Bequia?" Marie asked.
"We could call Mrs. Walker. She's plugged into everything that happens there," Dani said.
"Good idea," Phillip said. "We'll do that. What else comes to mind?"
"A picture? Dani could show it to this Véronique."
"Yes. Another good idea. Wonder if we can find one on the web? Maybe that university has a page of faculty pictures," Phillip said.
"I'll go back to the Internet café when we're finished here and see if I can find one for Véronique to look at," Dani said.
"Take the iPad," Liz suggested. "That way if you find one, we'll have our own copy."
Dani nodded. "Think it's worth calling Paul? I know he said he'd call, but …"
"Sure," Phillip said. "Might as well. Any more thoughts?"
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Might as well go ashore," Dani said. "If we can get a picture, I'll email it to Clarence so he can get it to the people on the ground before tonight. Maybe they'll see something."
"Okay. I'll get on the phone to Mrs. Walker and Paul. Marie, while Dani and Liz are gone, why don't you check in with Clarence and let him know what's happening."
"Oh," Dani said. "I almost forgot; I've got the card where this guy wrote his phone number." She reached for her bag.
"He's probably already ditched the phone, but give it to Marie. Maybe Clarence can find out something about it."
"It's glossy card stock," Dani said, unfolding the clearance document she had wrapped around the card. "We may have fingerprints."
"Clarence can get them checked if they're there. Marie, when you talk to him, ask if there's a way to get the card to him tonight or in the morning. Maybe one of your people can take it back."
"With any luck, we'll catch him," Dani said, "then we won't need prints."
"I don't think so," Phillip countered. "This guy's left no clues at four killings; I don't think he's suddenly gotten sloppy. Besides, he's shown his presence already."
"What are you thinking?" Dani asked.
"I don't know what he's up to here, but I don't think he's going to kill tonight. He wouldn't be so obvious."
"Everybody makes mistakes," Dani protested.
"It's just my gut feeling. Either way, I think we've got a good plan. Let's get on with it," Phillip said.
****
The killer stayed out of sight, wary after his carelessness yesterday afternoon. If the police were expecting trouble, he had seen no indication, but he couldn't check the streets without the risk of being seen. It didn't matter if they had staked out the area given his plans for tonight, but his curiosity was piqued. He might find himself on another mission in Martinique in the future; it would be useful to know how the police worked. He was always gathering information, always learning to be better at what he did.
He noted that Jane had spent less than an hour sunbathing in the early part of the morning, obviously worried about overexposure, given her fair skin. When the two women had come back from town, the Fitzgeralds had joined them in the cockpit for coffee and pastries from a box one of the women had brought back with her. After an hour or so in the shade of the cockpit awning, they had adjourned below. The killer was hoping the Fitzgeralds, at least, would soon head for town. With luck, the two blondes would go with them, leaving Vengeance unoccupied.
He filled his idle time by testing and tweaking his equipment in anticipation of placing it aboard Vengeance. He continued to watch the yacht, surprised and annoyed that everyone was still aboard. Finally, he saw movement. The two blondes clambered into the dinghy and headed for shore. There was no sign of the Fitzgeralds. The day was wearing on; soon, the excursion boats and dive boats would be returning and there would be too much activity for him to carry out his plans even if all four of them did leave Vengeance. There was still the chance they might opt for dinner ashore, but he worried that there were too many restaurants that offered views of the harbor. He was well aware that part of the pleasure of yachting was admiring your vessel from a vantage point ashore while mingling with those less fortunate.
He began to psych himself up for boarding the boat while it was occupied, reminding himself he'd been well trained for that. He'd participated in a couple of clandestine boardings in the Middle East during his time in the military, but the vessels had been bigger, much less intimate. Of course, they had been gua
rded by armed professionals, too, and he had come through unscathed.
On Vengeance, the worst that could happen would be an encounter with Fitzgerald; the women were no threat. He watched the two little blondes from Vengeance walk down the dock and turn in the direction of the Internet café. He wondered about that, since they had just been there, but then he reminded himself that there were a number of other businesses in that direction. They were probably grocery shopping, looking for something to cook for dinner.
****
"Cardile has been coming and going from the Mango Tree, using his room as a kind of base while he explores the islands. He doesn't check out — leaves most of his luggage there and just takes what he needs for his excursions."
"Where has he been?" Dani asked.
"Nobody really knows. He takes the ferry or a water taxi to St. Vincent. Sometimes he's back the same day; sometimes he's away for a couple of days."
"I guess it's too much to hope anybody noticed the dates when he was away," Dani said.
Phillip just grinned and shook his head. "No, no dates for his trips, but he's gone right now. He's been away for two days."
"Any chance of somebody searching his luggage?" Marie asked.
"No real need. He unpacked into the furniture in the room; the maids have seen everything. Besides clothes and his laptop, he's got a duffel bag with dive gear in it, and some photography equipment. Both are missing from the room this trip."
"He's looking more suspicious by the minute," Liz said. "Véronique said the mug shot on the faculty page of the university web site could be him, or it might not. He was in a jacket and tie, and she said the picture looked like a younger man than the guy who was in the café the other day."
"Well, that doesn't rule him out, does it?" Marie said. "Lots of coincidences."
"No, it doesn't," Dani agreed. "Did Paul have anything new?"
"A little," Phillip said. "Cardile seems to have appeared out of nowhere in Charlottesville, Virginia, when he started graduate school there. Nobody has been able to backtrack from there to figure out where he came from. Paul's buddies haven't been able to get into the University's records — yet. He did get that woman he uses in Miami to look into Cardile's finances; he's a wealthy man. Lots of liquidity, but she couldn't bracket his net worth just yet. He's definitely not living on his salary as an assistant professor."
"So what's Paul's take on him?" Dani asked.
"You know Paul; it's tough to pin him down, but I'd say he's suspicious. The most damning thing I could get him to agree to was that Cardile might be a false identity for the man, but he hedged on that. He pointed out people do that for all kinds of reasons, not all of them crooked. He wants to keep digging, though. That tells me Paul thinks the guy's not on the up and up."
"Any word from Clarence, Marie?" Dani asked.
"All six of the people on the street have the photo you emailed me. Nobody has seen the guy around town. They're going to be in place tonight as soon as it gets dark. If we leave the business card in an envelope at the police station with Clarence's name on it before we go, he'll have it checked for prints. I gave him the number of the cell phone, and he had someone run it while we were talking. Phillip's right, it was a throw-away phone, part of a big shipment of prepaid phones that was broken up and sold all over the island. He could have gotten it anywhere; there aren't any records of which phones went to which stores. The only call on it was the one Véronique made while you were clearing in, and the number's no longer working, so he probably ditched it. That's it."
"Okay," Phillip said. "I think we should all get some rest; we'll need to stand watch after dark. We've got a pretty good view of town, at least until the street lights start going off. I noticed the streets went dark around midnight last night, so after that we can turn in and leave it to the people ashore."
****
Dani snapped to wakefulness after a period of deep sleep. Like most small-boat sailors, she was alert as soon as her eyes were open. She lay still for a moment, taking in the sounds and motions of Vengeance riding to her anchor in the calm, still water. Something about the boat wasn't right, but she couldn't pinpoint the source of her unease.
They had taken turns watching the streets from the cockpit until the street lights were turned off last night. Before they went to bed, Marie had arranged for the men ashore to call her if anything happened. Unsure what had disturbed her sleep, Dani decided to take a turn around the deck. She slipped out of her berth, creeping to the cabin door so as not to wake Liz, who was sleeping soundly in her bunk on the other side of the forward cabin.
She tiptoed through the darkness of the main cabin, feeling her way; Marie was asleep on one of the settees and Phillip was in the aft cabin, snoring softly. As she mounted the companionway ladder, she saw a dark shadow moving between the opening of the companionway and the steering pedestal. She froze, groping for the heavy, three-cell flashlight they kept clipped to the ladder. She worked it out of the spring clips without making a sound, her eyes never leaving the shadowy figure which resolved into a man in a black wetsuit as her eyes adjusted.
His back was to her as she eased up the ladder with the flashlight in a white-knuckled grip. She stepped onto the bridge deck and raised the flashlight, preparing to club the intruder. She swung with all of her 115 pounds, focused on the back of his head. Just before her blow landed, he stood up straight. Sensing her presence, the man twisted violently to his left, snapping his elbow back and smashing it into Dani's left shoulder, knocking her to the side as the flashlight glanced off the side of his head with a solid thump. She pushed herself upright with her left arm and drew back for another swing. Before she could get her weight behind it, he pushed her to the side again, put his left foot on the cockpit seat and catapulted himself over the rail, executing what, under the circumstances, was a graceful dive.
Dani turned on the light and swept the surface of the water where he had vanished. He had barely left a ripple, and although the water was crystal clear, the bottom was black volcanic sand, so his dark wetsuit was ideal camouflage. As she turned to examine the steering pedestal to see what he had been doing, Phillip appeared, a commando knife held at the ready down close to his right thigh.
"Too late," she said. "He got away."
"I heard the splash."
Marie pushed by him holding a million candlepower handheld spotlight. "I called the guys," she said, as she began methodically sweeping the area around the boat with the brilliant white beam. "They'll be watching the shoreline."
"He was good," Dani said. "Barely broke the surface when he went in; he's gone. With all the anchored boats to hide him, we'll never see him again." She took the knife from Phillip's hand and gave him the flashlight. "Hold the light on the underside of the table, please."
"What do you have?" he asked, shining the light as she knelt down and pried at a small block of brightly varnished teak, working the tip of the blade under an edge. The block was about the size of a matchbook, finished to blend in with the teak table that was hinged to the front of the steering pedestal.
After a few seconds' work, the block popped free, dropping into her hand. She stood up and gave the knife back to Phillip, holding her prize in the beam of the flashlight to study it for a moment before she answered. "Not sure, but my bet's either a bug or a GPS tracking device. Let's take it below and open it up."
Phillip shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Dani looked blank for a moment, and then nodded. Phillip touched Marie on the shoulder, and when she turned to him, repeated his gesture. She nodded and went back to sweeping the harbor with the spotlight. Dani and Phillip took the device below to the galley, where Phillip wrapped it in a dish towel and packed it into a plastic freezer container. He snapped the lid on and put the package in the microwave oven, closing the door.
"That should do it, for now."
"Clever to muffle it," Dani said. "I wouldn't have thought of the microwave to block transmission."
"Microwave ove
ns are great shields for radio waves; it can't transmit or receive in there, whatever it is."
"It must be a bug," Dani said. "It's too …"
"What happened?" Liz interrupted, stepping into the main cabin, rubbing her eyes.
Chapter 20
It was 3 a.m., but everyone was too keyed up to sleep. Liz made a pot of decaffeinated coffee and the four of them sat at the table in the main cabin discussing what had just happened.
"If he went ashore, he swam a long way first," Marie said. "Two of the men were sweeping the beach with night vision binoculars from the end of the dock, looking back toward shore starting within a minute after he jumped over the side. They didn't see anybody, and neither did I."
"You think he's on a boat?" Liz asked.
"Could be. There are enough of them on moorings here. He could be on a visiting boat, or he might have just holed up on one of the unoccupied boats in the harbor," Dani said. "Either way, we aren't going to find him. He was a pro; it would take way more people than we've got to isolate and search all the boats. Besides, even if we could mount a search, we wouldn't recognize him unless he was still wearing a dripping wetsuit."
"Did you get a good look at him?" Phillip asked.
"Yes, but it's not going to help. Medium height and build is about all I can tell you."
"Hair?" Marie asked.
"He had on a neoprene hood to match his wetsuit. Probably cushioned the whack I gave him with the flashlight, too."
"Complexion?" Marie persisted.
Dani gave her a long look, frowning. "Were you a cop?"
"Something like that, maybe," Marie smiled. "Was he black or white?"
"Mostly black, with some smudges of olive green and dark brown."
"Camouflage face paint, huh?" Marie said.
"Either that or his diet is deficient somehow. I'm pretty sure he was white." Dani was still frowning.