Blood of His Fathers (Sinners and Saints)

by Michelle Chambers

  “My father has done business in Romania for a number of years. I can only suspect there’s some kind of connection to this Nicolae Nastase.”

  “We have to check out your ex-wife’s account. Perhaps it can tell us something.” Drew caught the barman’s attention. “When do the banks open?” he asked.

  The man looked at his watch. “Tomorrow again, at nine,” he said.

  Drew clapped Jason on the back. “Go and get some sleep. You’re no good to Jess if you can’t function properly. I’ll wake you if I hear anything you need to know.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “I am.”

  “Thanks, Mahon.”

  * * * *

  Alexander McCormack stood behind a dingy mesh curtain in a flea-bitten hotel room in the East End of London. He looked out onto the poorly lit street shrouded in mist and rain, pulling his mouth into a tight thin line. He glanced at his watch. Eight o’clock in the morning here. Three o’clock in the afternoon in Nassau. Eva was late. They’d agreed she’d call him after the deed was done.

  He turned and glared at the telephone, cursing under his breath. Eva was never late. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

  He swung his gaze back to the dreary scene outside the window, back to the dark metallic blue Lexus parked across the road at a discrete distance. It was out of place in this plebeian area of east London, although not because of its value. There were plenty of top-of-the-line BMW’s and Mercedes parked in the street—symbols of success that belonged to petty criminals, drug dealers and other forms of low-life whose ambitions lay with the here and now. Whose small minds could never grasp the extent of his ambition or the concept of true power that required time, meticulous planning and absolute patience.

  Alexander twisted his mouth contemptuously. The Lexus was out of place because it screamed secret service, MI5 maybe? It could be that he was under surveillance, but he dismissed that possibility. There was absolutely no way Sean Wright’s death could be connected back to him, therefore no possibility of his plans and those of the Cartel being compromised. The Home Office hadn’t a clue of what was happening right under their noses.

  Sean’s death hadn’t even been viewed with a modicum of suspicion. It’d been dismissed as a gang-related incident. No one of importance was interested in the death of a top-criminal. That’s why killing Sean had been so easy. Sean had organized the fight between gangs from Finsbury Town and Southampton United. He’d unwittingly staged his own death and dismissed the probability of an indignant investigation.

  Alexander lifted the corner of his mouth in a wry smile. He could’ve safely closed that chapter except for the fact Sean had contacted Jason. He didn’t know how much his son knew about the Lady Helen, but he’d married Jessica Thomas and he knew about the old plantation.

  His son’s marriage had been a clever move. He’d even admired his son’s boldness, but it wouldn’t be enough for Jason to stop him. Alexander clenched his fist. Jason had betrayed him, his heritage and everything it meant to be a McCormack and for what? A woman—and an inferior one at that.

  He stared at the telephone. Right now, that woman ought be dead. But the more time elapsed the less convinced he was of that fact. Eva was never late. He turned back to the window in time to see the blue Lexus streak away into the night. He grabbed his coat, stormed toward the door and yanked it open. He didn’t like this. No, he didn’t like this one little bit.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Inspector Forbes extended a hand to them as they entered the quiet foyer at the Hotel Baja Mar.

  “Inspector Mahon, Mr. McCormack,” he said. “You’re out and about early this morning.”

  Both men returned the acknowledgment.

  “As are you, Inspector,” Drew said.

  “Shall we get some coffee, gentlemen?” he said. “You look like you could do with some.”

  Jason felt the intensity of the man’s gaze.

  “I’d like to stay and chat, Inspector, but I have to get to the airport.”

  “You’re not leaving the Bahamas just yet, I hope,” the inspector smiled.

  “No. I’m meeting a friend.”

  “Anyone I should know about?”

  “No.”

  “I just need a few moments of your time, Mr. McCormack then you can be on your way. Besides, I know where you can get the best coffee in the Islands.”

  Coffee was bought with the compliments of Inspector Forbes back at his office. Jason sat and stared into the swirling hot, dark liquid as if it resembled some strange entity.

  “Where is your wife, Mr. McCormack?” The interrogation had begun. “We know you checked her out the hospital two nights ago.”

  “Somewhere safe,” Jason replied.

  “I need to speak with her.”

  He raised guarded eyes to the inspector. “Why?”

  “We’ve managed to trace the movements of the woman you killed.”

  Jason grimaced. “It was self-defense.”

  The inspector waved a hand. “Ascertaining her true identity is proving to be a problem. She’d traveled under a false name, false passport, but I guess you knew that.”

  Inspector Forbes smiled. “You couldn’t just tell me who she was, could you? Save me some time so I can wrap this case up.”

  Jason met his direct gaze.

  “But, of course you won’t,” the inspector surmised.

  He leant back in his chair.

  “It turns out she came to the Islands March ninth, a day later than your wife. She had one visitor at her hotel that very same day. Carolyn Roberts.”

  Jason kept his eyes focused, and his face impassive. “What has this got to do with my wife?”

  Inspector Forbes took a leisurely sip of his coffee. “We naturally went to see Ms. Roberts,” he continued. “Her house is in Lyford Cay, a more than wealthy suburb of Nassau—very exclusive and very protective of its status. All arrivals and departures are noted at the main security gate. Did you know that?”

  Jason nodded. Of course he did.

  “We found Jessica McCormack’s name on the visitors list. She’d visited Ms. Roberts March twelfth. The same day I believe she checked out of the Hotel Baja Mar with you. The same day pirates, Mr. McCormack, attacked you. And a day before your wife was shot.”

  “What do you want, Inspector?”

  “Carolyn Roberts has disappeared. Gone. And what’s more her house has already been sold to a private, cash buyer.”

  “To whom?” Drew queried.

  “To one ‘J. McCormack’,” Inspector Forbes replied. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

  “That’s it?” Jason retorted.

  “Yes, but it’s enough, don’t you think? Your wife’s name is Jessica, isn’t it?” Inspector Forbes inquired lightly.

  “My name begins with a ‘J’ also, Inspector. Would you arrest me, too, because of that?”

  “Most probably if I didn’t have further evidence that it’s your wife I want and not you.”

  Inspector Forbes raised a staying hand before Jason could speak. “We’ve already spoken to the realtors involved and I have a copy of the contract of sale. Besides we can place your wife at the real estate offices of Hudson, Rolle and Moore an hour after she’d left Lyford Cay. But then again you may both be in this together. And what of the woman you killed? An associate, maybe? What happened? Did things get out of hand?”

  Jason stood abruptly. He couldn’t deny the facts were fast weighing up against Jessica.

  “What happened to believing in self-defense?”

  “Oh, I still do believe that. But it’s the circumstances leading up to that moment in your bedroom, Mr. McCormack, that I want clarified. It could be your wife is not as innocent as you try to make out.”

  Drew placed a restraining hand on Jason’s arm, silencing the expletive on his lips.

  “Carolyn Roberts’ house was spotless,” the inspector argued. “Not one sign she even lived there. No mess, no dust, no fingerprints. I
sn’t that extraordinary? Clean. But we were lucky enough to find a set of prints on the front door.”

  Inspector Forbes’ eyes didn’t leave Jason’s face. “I’d be willing to bet it belongs to your wife, but I’m not a betting man, Mr. McCormack. I’m a fair man. I’ll wait for verification. Just tell me where she is.”

  “No.”

  Inspector Forbes stood calmly to face him. “One woman is already dead and Carolyn Roberts is missing. In the first instance I followed my instincts, but perhaps now I should be getting back to believing the facts. Your wife signed into Lyford Cay on the twelfth, Mr. McCormack, and signed out. There’s some connection here and I want to know what that is. I told you before, don’t treat me like a fool.”

  “Inspector,” Drew interceded. “The woman killed—the woman who shot Mrs. McCormack—was Mr. McCormack’s ex-wife.”

  Inspector Forbes resumed his seat. “And her name?”

  Jason expelled a deep breath and sat down. “Eva Ricci.”

  “Finally, the truth,” Inspector Forbes lauded sarcastically. “Or some semblance of it. Go on, Inspector Mahon,” he insisted.

  “Mr. McCormack is actually helping me build a case against his father.”

  “A case? What case?”

  “Mr. McCormack’s father is under investigation in England. You can call my superior for confirmation if you like—”

  “Be sure, I will.”

  “There’s not a great deal more I can tell you, Inspector Forbes, in light of the sensitivity of this investigation, but suffice to say the trail led us here to the old plantation at High Rock.”

  “The Thomas estate.” Inspector Forbes pondered this bit of information for a moment. “It explains your presence at High Rock with Mrs. McCormack, but it doesn’t explain Mrs. McCormack’s visit to Carolyn Roberts.”

  “As you said yourself, Inspector, Carolyn Roberts visited Eva Ricci at her hotel. That was two days before the fire at High Rock. I’m convinced Mrs. McCormack was the intended victim of that fire. You see, Eva Ricci worked for Alexander McCormack,” Drew explained.

  Inspector Forbes glanced sharply at Jason.

  Drew continued. “I believe both women met to discuss Jessica McCormack’s arrival in the Islands. There’s a great deal at stake, Inspector, believe me. Jessica McCormack poses an enormous threat to Alexander McCormack. In England he wouldn’t have acted, but by coming to the Bahamas she has placed herself at great risk. Mr. McCormack is here merely trying to protect his wife.”

  “I see.” Inspector Forbes returned his gaze to Jason. “The pirates?”

  Jason nodded.

  “If your wife is in as much danger as you seem to suggest, why not put her in my custody? All I want is to speak to her and if she confirms everything you’re saying then there’s nothing to worry about.”

  “She’s safe, Inspector,” Jason answered.

  “All right,” Inspector Forbes conceded, raising a hand. “Let’s say I believe you, Inspector Mahon, what do you want me to do?”

  “Actually, I need to access Eva Ricci’s accounts here on the Island. Could you arrange for me to have a copy of her death certificate? It may expedite my inquiries at the bank.”

  “Co-operation works both ways, Detective Inspector Mahon. Don’t forget Carolyn Roberts is a native to these islands and she’s still missing.”

  “We’re getting closer to Alexander McCormack, but we need more time to gather potentially vital evidence.”

  Inspector Forbes studied both men a moment longer, his brow drawn in pensive thought. He drew in a tight breath.

  “Preferably, without my interference?”

  “Pirates?” Drew queried as both men left Inspector Forbes’ office.

  Jason was in no mood to recount the story. “Why did you tell him about my father, about Eva?”

  “I had to tell him something,” Drew countered. “And better the truth, don’t you think? You were this close,” he said, demonstrating with his fingers just how much, “to being thrown in jail. Inspector Forbes has enough circumstantial evidence to lock you up and throw away the key. I would’ve done so with less.”

  “Yes, I remember,” Jason replied dryly.

  “If you want to protect Jess you can better do that outside of a police cell, don’t you think? You know Carolyn Roberts was the one who sold the Thomas property to your father.”

  “Yes, but I don’t believe Jessica has anything to do with her disappearance.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Jason glanced at his watch. “Shit. I’ve got to get to the airport.”

  “I’ll wait for Eva’s death certificate and head over to the bank.”

  Drew watched Jason cross the road to the rental car and drive away. He reached for his cell phone and punched in Colin’s number. It rang three times before his Detective Sergeant picked up on the other end.

  “Sergeant Farrell,” Colin answered.

  “It’s me, Col.”

  “Drew? About bloody time!”

  “I know. I’m sorry, but there have been some interesting developments here.”

  “Like what?”

  “There’s a file in my office, in the cabinet behind the door. The key is—”

  “Under the plant pot. I know. I’m a policeman Drew and that’s hardly an original hiding place. Which file do I need?”

  “The one on Nicolae Nastase.”

  “Right—”

  “And I need you to find out if Alexander McCormack has ever been to Romania. And if so whether he was in contact with Nicolae Nastase.”

  “What’s this all about Drew? What has any of this got to do with finding Sean’s sister?”

  “I’ll fill you in when I get back. I also need information on Eva Ricci. And Col? Listen. Keep this between us for the time being. Tell Marsters nothing. Not before I get back.”

  “When will that be?”

  “In a couple of days. First, I’m going for a dive.”

  But before Colin could voice his disbelief, Drew had hung up the phone. He would explain the rest later. Right now, he had to get his head around the idea of diving with Jason McCormack. His aversion to the sea wasn’t going to help either.

  * * * *

  They’d greeted each other with the familiarity and ease of old friends. Nick had asked about Jessica and he’d pretended everything was all right, although he didn’t miss Nick’s sharp gaze. But they’d known each other a long time. Long enough to know when it was all right to pry and when to keep a lid on curiosity. And Nick knew he would confide in him if, or when, he chose to.

  An hour later Nick sat in Jason’s hotel room hunched over the nautical map spread before him. He’d marked out a search area a mere five miles off the eastern shore of Andros Island based on the word of a worldly old fisherman and his own scientific deductions. Jason welcomed the distraction. He’d needed to focus his mind lest he succumbed to the helplessness and guilt he felt about his wife and tore the place apart.

  “Andros Barrier Reef,” Nick remarked, drawing Jason’s attention back to the map. “A hundred and forty miles of reef with a multitude of tunnels and caverns where a ship could sink and easily be lost, and many were. It could take time before we know for certain if the Lady Helen is down there.”

  “She’s down there, Nick,” Jason stated firmly.

  “So are Blue Holes.”

  “I know, but perhaps we’ll be lucky and find her lying in shallower water.”

  Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. The giant azure blue circles on the ocean floor led to complex underwater cave systems. If the Lady Helen was lodged in one of them this operation could take more time than he had. He pondered that thought and watched Nick flip open his personal computer.

  “I’ve researched some old wreck sites. If I mark those on our search site we could quickly narrow our search fields and not waste any time. Who’s the investor tagging along tomorrow?”

  “Drew Mahon. He has a vested interest in the success of this operation.”

/>   “He knows to be on time, right? I don’t want to miss the tide.”

  “Don’t worry. He’ll be on time.”

  * * * *

  The Atlantis arrived at the Bayshore Marina a little later than Nick had arranged, but there was still a hope that they would be able to get one dive in that afternoon. It was a small boat but large enough for their needs and purpose. Furthermore, it’d been important to Jason they operate the vessel themselves without hiring extra help.

  “Have you dived before?” Nick asked Drew. He maneuvered the boat toward the open sea.

  “I took a scuba course some years back on vacation, but other than that I’ve never gone deeper than my local swimming pool.”

  “You could be going well over a hundred feet today,” Nick returned. “But don’t worry,” he added. “Jason is an experienced diver. You’ll be fine with him.”

  Drew looked about him at the wide ocean. He was in Jason’s territory now.

  “What kind of boat is this?”

  “A research ship used for mowing,” Nick said.

  “Mowing?”

  “We mow or map the ocean floor using a side-scan sonar tethered to the ship’s hull. It’s a device that emits fan-shaped pulses down toward the seafloor across a wide angle and reports data back here to the transponder.” Nick indicated the instrument behind him. “A read out registers the density of the sound waves enabling us to detect any anomaly on the sea bed, no matter its size. To help us narrow our search field we have a magnetometer back there.”

  Drew followed Nick’s gaze.

  “Metal distorts the earth’s magnetic field,” Nick explained. “The Lady Helen was one of few ships with an iron-reinforced hull. The magnetometer is designed to record a stream of data on changes in the earth’s magnetic field. We can monitor what’s being picked up, here,” he said, pointing to another instrument.

  “And back there?” Drew asked.

  “A decompression tank—it’s not the dive itself that gives you the bends, but the ascent to the surface, although I doubt you’ll need it. Jason’s already worked out the decompression stops. But come up slowly and breathe normally. The stops enable your body to acclimatize to the decreased pressure as you start to surface.”