Fifth Victim

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Fifth Victim Page 7

by Zoe Sharp


  I’d hoped to have been wearing it again long before now.

  I sighed, glanced up at the deck where Dina had been dancing a few minutes before, only to find she was no longer in plain sight.

  Swearing under my breath, I headed for the nearest staircase that curved around the superstructure to the upper deck. Nothing.

  Working in a logical pattern, I began a sweep of the yacht, checking cabins and walk-in lockers as well as the more crowded areas. It was amazing, the kind of places I found occupied for clandestine reasons, but none of the fumbling encounters I interrupted involved Dina – willing or otherwise. The minutes ticked by, and my anxiety level rose with each one.

  Finally, I found Hunt, lounging on one of the built-in sofas that lined one of the smaller sun decks, playing with his iPhone.

  ‘Where’s Dina?’ I demanded.

  Hunt looked up sharply, apparently taken by surprise at my approach. The heels were not only low, they were quiet, too, and the fact he had the phone’s earpieces in place hadn’t helped.

  He slid the whole lot into his pocket before uncrossing his legs and rising from the sumptuous cream upholstery with an elegant smile. ‘She’s having a heart-to-heart with Orlando in one of the staterooms, I think,’ he said. ‘Did you want her for anything in particular?’

  I gritted my teeth. Yeah, so I can do my job. ‘I just need to know where she is, that’s all.’

  ‘Relax, Charlie.’ His tone was gently chiding, as though I was taking all this much too seriously. ‘She said if you came looking for her, to tell you she was OK but wanted to talk privately, and you were to just chill out and wait for her.’

  ‘Nice of her,’ I said shortly, ‘but that’s not how it works.’

  He moved in front of me, still affable. ‘Do you really think a kid like Dina is a likely prospect for a kidnapping?’

  ‘Was Orlando considered at risk?’ I asked quietly. ‘Were any of them?’ He didn’t answer. I sighed. ‘Dina’s parents are not exactly on the poverty line, and she’s twenty – hardly a kid anymore. She’s a legitimate target, and it’s my job to see that she stays safe.’ I started to turn away, mind already on finding the staterooms, when Hunt’s question stopped me dead.

  ‘Have you considered that she might not want to feel safe?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She might not want to feel safe,’ he repeated. ‘Her father lives in Europe – Vienna, I think. Dina was supposed to go and stay with her old man for the summer to get her out of the way, but she’s refusing. You didn’t know,’ he added flatly, seeing my face. ‘So, how exactly are you supposed to protect her, Charlie, if they haven’t told you what’s going on?’

  ‘Good question,’ I muttered, already on the move. ‘When I find that one out, I’ll let you know.’

  I went below. The first familiar face I encountered there was the last person I wanted to bump into again that night.

  Torquil.

  I was rushing along a plushly carpeted internal corridor when he came out of a cabin just ahead of me, pulling the door closed behind him. He gave a kind of start when he saw me, face colouring furiously as recognition flashed in, and he muscled sideways as if intending to block my path.

  ‘I’m in a hurry and not in the mood,’ I said tightly. ‘Which stateroom is Dina in with Orlando?’

  His head jerked with shock and I suddenly realised how my question might be misconstrued. Give me strength!

  ‘I believe they’re only talking. But I need to find Dina,’ I explained. Still he hesitated, but when I checked his face I saw indecision rather than obstruction, and tried a more reasonable approach. ‘Look, Torquil, I’m sorry about what happened earlier, but I’m sure you’ve had enough bodyguards of your own over the years to know how we respond to a perceived threat.’

  For a moment I thought he was going to sneer, then he grinned at me, all sunny like a little kid distracted from a grazed knee with a lollipop. ‘Yeah, I’m … um … sorry, too, I guess,’ he said, surprising me utterly with the apology.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said blankly. ‘Do you know where they are?’

  He took a breath, let it out. ‘Come on. I’ll show you.’

  Naturally distrustful of this sudden change in behaviour, I kept half a pace behind him as he led the way along another short corridor. If my bearings were correct, we were working our way towards the stern of the yacht. We passed through an open salon area with an oval ceiling, beautifully inlaid with different coloured hardwoods, and a curved bar at one side. The only large vessel I’d been on before this was an Irish Sea ferry and it really didn’t compare. The art on the walls here was genuine, and didn’t look cheap, but I was in no mood for admiration.

  Eventually, Torquil stopped outside a pair of double doors and jerked his head. ‘You wanna do the honours, or shall I?’ he asked with a grim smile.

  I shrugged. ‘It’s your boat.’

  Torquil forgot his supercilious demeanour for long enough to grin at me again. I just had time to wonder why he was enjoying this so much before he grabbed both handles at once, flung the doors wide, and strode in.

  If Torquil had been my principal, I never would have allowed him to go first, but he wasn’t, so I waited half a beat before I followed.

  Our arrival was greeted by a moment’s immobile silence and I flicked my eyes across the whole scene. Inside, the stateroom had every convenience, from its own private sun deck beyond the wall of tinted glass, to a huge oval four-poster bed carved from some semi-precious timber. On the wall opposite was the biggest flat screen I’d seen outside a multiplex cinema.

  But the people in the stateroom were not there to use any of those facilities, it seemed.

  There were three of them – Orlando, Benedict and Dina. They sat in the curved easy chairs, which were grouped around a low coffee table set with lilies to perfectly complement the decor.

  Orlando gave a startled gasp when Torquil made his grand entrance, and couldn’t stop the dismay from passing across her features shortly afterwards. Benedict shoved his fist in his jacket pocket so fast I didn’t catch what might have been in it. There was a buzz about them both that sent prickles of apprehension racing across my skin.

  Dina was jazzed, eyes glittering. She stiffened at the intrusion, but there was a reckless challenge in every line of her body.

  ‘Charlie!’ she said, shock making her voice haughty. ‘I told you to wait.’

  ‘That’s not your order to give,’ I snapped. ‘What the hell are you doing in here, Dina?’

  She brought her chin up stubbornly. ‘That’s none of your business.’

  ‘It is when you sneak off without telling me where you’re going—’

  ‘I left a message!’

  ‘Not good enough.’ I moved closer, saw the size of her pupils, the excited jitter she couldn’t quite hide. ‘What have they given you? What have you taken?’

  ‘Nothing! And how dare you speak to my friends like that!’ Her voice was an outraged squawk. ‘How dare you?’

  I whirled on Benedict. ‘What did you try to hide so fast when we came in?’ I demanded. ‘Because if I find you’ve given her anything, I’ll have you arrested as a dealer, and I don’t give a damn who your family is.’

  ‘Charlie …’

  I ignored Dina’s sharp protest, holding Benedict’s gaze. Eventually, he got to his feet, slow and insolent.

  ‘It’s not what I’ve got that I’m trying to hide,’ he bit out. ‘It’s what I haven’t.’

  And with that he took his hand out of his pocket, fingers spread, and with a cold ripple down my spine I discovered exactly why the Benelli family had been prepared to pay up all that ransom money without haggling.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘They cut off the little finger of his right hand,’ I said. ‘Straight through the knuckle of the first joint. Used a meat cleaver or something pretty similar, and no anaesthetic.’

  Parker winced. ‘Nasty.’

  ‘Yeah, but apparently the
worst thing is that Benedict was reputed to be quite a talented classical guitarist.’

  My boss let out a long breath. ‘Well, I guess that’s the kinda thing where you need all your fingers.’

  I shrugged. It was uncharitable of me, but I couldn’t help it. Benedict had taken on a distinctly martyred air after he’d done his big reveal of the missing digit – more so after Manda had come rushing in to comfort him. I’d been on the receiving end of more than a few daggered or reproachful looks.

  But I remembered Bill Rendelson, who was missing his entire arm, and my initial sympathy for Benedict’s situation rapidly dissipated. Bill might not be the easiest person to get along with, but on the whole I preferred his general bad temper to Benedict’s ‘woe is me’ attitude.

  Dina, needless to say, had barely spoken to me for the remainder of the evening. The party had finally wound down at about 4 a.m., and by the time we arrived back at the Willners’ place, the sun was on the rise.

  I saw Dina to her room, where she slammed the door smartly in the face of my murmured ‘goodnight’. I suppose that was only to be expected.

  More in hope than expectation, I’d called Parker’s cellphone. It went straight to voicemail, which wasn’t a surprise, either, but was still a disappointment. I recognised that I needed to talk as much as make my report, that on previous jobs I would have been able to call Sean, any time, and he would have been there for me. Instead, I left my boss a brief precis of the night’s events, including the details I’d learnt of the road ambushes used to grab both Manda and Benedict. I knew that he would immediately suggest upgrading Dina’s transport to something more substantial without me needing to put in the request.

  Anticipation was one of Parker’s qualities.

  I wasn’t quite so appreciative of his efficiency, though, when he turned up at the house a little after eight the following morning. He called when he was less than ten minutes out to warn me that he was personally bringing over one of the agency Navigators. It just about gave me time to scramble out of bed and take the world’s quickest shower. Dina, I’d been reliably informed, was more than likely to sleep in until noon after partying half the night, and I confess I’d been quietly hoping for the opportunity to do the same.

  As it was, Parker was already in the open-plan living area, sipping tea with Caroline Willner, when I made a belated entrance with my hair still wet, in khakis and a hastily donned shirt, both chosen more for proximity than style.

  Parker had forsaken his usual line of immaculate dark suits. To blend in on a Saturday morning, he was in jeans and brown leather deck shoes, and a polo shirt in a pale washed-out shade of blue. Caroline Willner passed a critical eye over my own appearance, made her scrupulously polite excuses, and left us to it.

  Wary of prying ears among the staff, I took Parker down to the garages, which occupied the entire ground floor area at the front of the house. He’d pulled the Navigator into an empty bay, next to Dina’s Mercedes. There was also a Range Rover, a couple of anonymous vehicles the staff used to run errands, and a little bright-yellow Mazda two-seater convertible. I’d recognised it as an MX-5 from home, but over here it was called a Miata instead. Caroline Willner had described it to me as her personal toy, with just the suspicion of a reckless smile hovering round her mouth. I’d found space for my Buell in a quiet corner, and not used it since I’d arrived.

  Parker handed over the Navigator’s keys and I examined all the usual areas that might be vulnerable to sabotage, following protocol rather than demonstrating a lack of trust. He watched me without comment. And while I worked I gave him the full information, as it had come to me, about what had happened to the previous victims of the kidnap gang.

  ‘I’ll check out their stories, as far as I can,’ he said when I was done. ‘But without any official paper trail, there won’t be much I can confirm.’ He paused. ‘You said you have some history with the Dempsey girl. That going to cause you a problem?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘She seems to have grown up a lot since I was working for them.’

  ‘But she still told everyone at the party what you are. If the connection between the victims is the circle they move in, you’ve been made.’

  ‘Maybe. But it doesn’t stop me doing my job, Parker.’ I paused. ‘Did you ask Caroline Willner about trying to talk Dina into going to stay with her father?’

  He nodded, frowning, and turned a slow circle as if admiring the gleaming paintwork on the Miata, but I saw the flick of his eyes and knew he was pinpointing the two CCTV cameras that monitored the garage area.

  ‘What’s the set-up here?’ he asked.

  ‘Video but no audio, monitored live off site, and recorded to hard drive via an Internet link to the security company’s own server. Local cop response time is eight minutes.’

  He smiled very slightly, in such a way that I realised he already knew the answer before he’d asked the question. He was just checking that I knew it, too.

  ‘She confirmed, but was evasive,’ he said then. ‘Tried to pass it off as some kinda short vacation.’

  ‘But you didn’t believe her?’

  ‘No.’ He gave a slight smile. ‘She was too tense. There was clearly more at stake than just a battle of wills between the two of them.’

  ‘Ah.’ My turn to frown. ‘Is it just that she doesn’t believe she’s in real danger, or that she doesn’t want to leave her horses, I wonder?’

  ‘That you might have to ask Dina – when the two of you are speaking again,’ he said gravely. ‘Meanwhile, stay sharp. Don’t forget that the first girl, Orlando, was snatched from the family property.’

  I nodded. ‘And her parents are rolling in it, by all accounts, so their home should not exactly be a soft target.’

  ‘We already know these guys either have very good intel, or they’re real pros,’ Parker agreed. ‘But some folk are remarkably careless with their own safety. Until the worst happens.’

  ‘Yeah well, Orlando and the boyfriend, Hunt, certainly left with some pretty heavy security in tow. Could you put out some feelers in the industry – find out how much of it was put in place after the kidnap? It would give us a better idea of what we’re up against.’

  ‘Of what you’re up against, you mean.’ He watched me for a moment, the kind of narrow-eyed stare Benedict could only ever aspire to. ‘You need backup, Charlie, you let me know.’

  ‘I will.’

  He held the eye contact a beat longer. ‘Sean would not forgive me if I didn’t take real good care of you while he’s out of action.’

  ‘I don’t need taking care of, Parker,’ I said gently, touched but strangely discomfited by the pitch of his gaze. ‘Have you … been to see him?’

  ‘Went yesterday, right after his scan—’

  ‘Scan?’ I interrupted. ‘What scan? He didn’t have anything scheduled or I would have been there. Do they think …?’

  Unable to finish forming the words of wretched hope, I turned away, moved across to the Buell and ran a hand over the smooth acrylic tank. Whoever habitually kept the Willner cars gleaming had gone to the trouble of wiping the dust off the bike, I noticed absently.

  When he spoke again, Parker’s voice was much closer behind me than I was expecting, and perhaps because I couldn’t see his face, I heard the hesitation in his voice more clearly. ‘Look, Charlie—’

  ‘Just tell me, Parker.’

  He sighed. ‘The consultant ordered him up for another CT scan yesterday,’ he said at last. ‘Apparently his physical therapist has been growing kinda concerned about some of his responses.’

  ‘Concerned how? About what?’

  ‘His brain activity,’ Parker said flatly. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie, but … they think it may be slowing down.’

  Slowing down. You mean he’s dying?

  My shoulders went rigid. When I made a conscious effort to relax them, it seemed my self-control went at the same time. I let my chin drop, stifled a kind of half gasp, half sob, and felt Parker’s
hands on my arms. He turned me back to face him and ducked to get a good look at the misery I couldn’t hide.

  ‘Do not give up on him,’ Parker said with quiet ferocity. ‘Whatever happens, Charlie, we’ll get through it. You’re not alone in this.’

  I took a steadying breath and stepped out from under his fingers. He made no moves to stop me, letting his hands drop.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said with a shaky smile. ‘I know. Thanks, Parker.’

  ‘I’d tell you to be careful on this one, but I know you will be anyhow,’ he said. ‘Apart from that, how’re you finding things here?’

  ‘OK,’ I said carefully. ‘I thought Dina and I were getting on pretty well – until last night. I’m waiting to see how she behaves when she wakes up. If she’s still not talking to me, you might have to use Gomez for this after all.’

  Parker smiled more fully then, as if glad to be back on safer ground. It made him look younger, too, despite the old gaze. ‘According to Dina’s mother, you’re the only one she’d trust to get the job done and not give a damn who you rode over to do it.’

  ‘Ah.’ I recalled with discomfort the reckless comment I’d thrown at Benedict Benelli the night before, about how if he turned out to be peddling drugs to his friends, I’d take him down regardless of family influence, and the ripples it was likely to cause. ‘I don’t suppose she qualified that at all, did she?’

  Parker made an amused sound in the back of his throat, too dignified for it to be a snort. ‘She likes you well enough and thinks you’re doing a fine job, Charlie,’ he said. ‘Someone offers you the moon, don’t ask for the stars as well.’

  I would have remarked on the exaggeration of that statement, had it not been for the fact that we both knew he wasn’t talking about Caroline Willner.

 

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