Król was embedded in the long grass, his tightly cropped hair and black stubble a natural camouflage in the dense scrub, his blue eyes and bushy, dark eyebrows hidden behind the camera.
Lying down, it was difficult to tell how tall he was, but he was six two and broad across the shoulders with thick arms that were covered with tattoos.
After being in Africa in full kit, in well over hundred degrees heat, the tropical sunshine of Nassau was very nearly like being on a vacation for Król, lying there in a T-shirt and cargo shorts, he could well have been sunbathing. But it was all about the work for Król. With him there was no such thing as leisure. Fabian Król had no family, no one to go home to and that’s just the way he liked it. He was a loner with no conscience and ice running through his veins. To him, emotion was a weakness, as was family, love or friendship. The men he worked with in the war-torn countries of the world, Arthur Khan amongst them, they were comrades, brothers in arms but nothing more. Khan paid for his services and for that he got loyalty as did any of his paymasters. Król had a code of honour which allowed indiscriminate killing and mutilation but never disloyalty or betrayal as to him they were the ultimate sin. In Król’s chosen profession, there was no place for squeamishness or humanitarianism, whereas a keen sense of loyalty was high on a client’s requirement list and whilst he was in their employ, Fabian Król guaranteed it.
* * *
Sumpter had come ashore three days ago, and was using a bungalow at the Crystal Waters Resort, having been ensconced offshore, in a sailing boat for a week prior to that.
Król had since witnessed Sumpter with a woman at the bungalow - a young, beautiful woman, who he seemed to be extremely familiar with. But Król could not believe it was a girlfriend as she was way out of Sumpter’s league.
Król had then followed the woman. She appeared to be just a tourist at first; she sunbathed and swam, did some shopping. Then Król witnessed a man talking to her, who was maybe just a few years older. Good looking, tanned, fit, much more her type, and it soon became clear they were an item. But who were they?
Król found out their names; Lizzie Barnes and Jake Sloane. He didn’t know the name Lizzie Barnes at all. But he did know of a Jake Sawyer.
Could they be one and the same?
He studied the photograph he had of Sawyer; long hair, glasses, shaggy beard, overweight. Then he put it next to the shot he had taken of Jake Sloane earlier that day; lean, well-groomed, attractive. At first glance they appeared to be very different, yet, under closer inspection, there were undoubtedly similarities; the bone structure, the nose - both extremely alike.
Król could not prove it with one hundred percent certainty but instinct told him that Jake Sloane was Jake Sawyer. He would stake his life on it. But who was Lizzie Barnes?
Król downloaded the shots onto his laptop and emailed them to Arthur Khan. Maybe he would know.
* * *
Peter Bearing was studying colour swatches with Anya, the ex Miss Bulgaria who was now his live-in mistress. His pet project, The Bearing Building - the fabulous glass tower which had been under construction for the past eighteen months - was at last close to completion and Peter was now thinking about decor for his magnificent office which would sit right at the very top and represent the pinnacle of his business achievements. The building itself was a masterpiece of contemporary architecture, built from the very latest materials and constructed in the shape of a giant spiral which the media had already nicknamed ‘The Twirl.’ When complete, the building would dominate the London skyline and give Peter incredible three-hundred and sixty degree views of the capital. From the massive floor to ceiling windows that surrounded the vast circular floorspace he would be able to survey the whole city. In just a few short months it was destined to become the brand new, hi-spec, hi-tech, base of his business empire and he couldn’t wait to move in.
Anya was sitting on his lap, behind his desk in his present office, wearing a silk leopard print blouse and a tiny black skirt. Her long, shapely legs, crossed in front of her, were accentuated by a pair of leopard print Manolo Blahnik’s with towering heels. Around her neck was a diamond necklace and on her wrist a matching bracelet. The set was completed by a pair of exquisitely cut diamond earrings. She looked stunning; her light blonde hair loose and long and expertly coiffed by her personal stylist, her fingernails polished and buffed like glossy red talons. Everything about her was immaculate - another prize in Peter’s collection to be lusted after, yet never possessed, by other men.
However, underneath the perfect exterior, her nipples were lacerated, her buttocks were cross-hatched with welts and her inner thighs were riddled with bite marks. Sex with Peter was rough, which was just the way she liked it and it turned out that they were a perfect match.
Anya had proved to be an excellent investment for Peter. He had installed her in his penthouse apartment and furnished her with a purse full of credit cards, a limitless allowance and a Bentley Coupé. She had provided him with an outlet for his sexual fantasies and an appetite for roughness which very nearly eclipsed his own. Her only stipulation in their very unique relationship was that he must never mark her face or leave any permanent scarring on her body as her vanity would not allow it. Anya also worked as a model occasionally for various S&M magazines, although only when the mood took her and scars were not widely sought after. Once she could have made a fortune as a super model but she had proved far too difficult and demanding for most agencies. She also had a tempestuous streak and a propensity for violence which had sent several assistants and at least two photographers to A&E after shoots with her. The fallout from these incidents had soured her standing within the business and ultimately ended her prospects of making the big time. But it didn’t worry her, she knew that a beautiful woman with a high sex drive and a knowledge of how to please rich men would never go hungry.
Nevertheless, Anya and Peter were happily debating the colour scheme of the enormous semi-circular seating area which would dominate the centre section of the office, and the merits of matching or contrasting cushions when the intercom on Peter’s desk buzzed. “Yes?” Bearing said sharply to his PA, “What is it, Susan? You know I didn’t want to be disturbed this afternoon.”
“Sorry to interrupt Mister Bearing, but Mister Khan’s here. He says he needs to speak with you rather urgently.
Anya, instinctively taking this as her cue to leave, gave Peter a kiss on the cheek and slipped off his lap. Ever the enigma, Anya whilst beautiful and soft on the outside had cold steel within and her feelings were locked tightly away in the keyless vault of her heart. Power was her God and money was her religion and for the faintest whiff of both she would gladly sell her own mother. Fortunately for her, Peter was a kindred spirit. He knew what made her tick and how shallow the thin vein of emotion was that ran through her. He knew because he was the same. Anya understood him when so many other women had not. She knew when to attend him, when to indulge him and when to leave him well alone.
And the golden rule was never to keep Peter away from business, especially when it was with Arthur Khan.
As she slipped off his lap, Peter patted her perfectly formed behind affectionately and mouthed “See you later”. She nodded her understanding then picked up her fur coat which was draped carelessly over a stylish leather armchair and headed for the private elevator. “See you,” she whispered as she gracefully entered the lift.
When she was gone Bearing turned his attention back to the intercom. “Very well, Susan. Show Arthur in, would you?”
* * *
“Well, well, well,” Peter Bearing chuckled as he studied the photos. “Little Elizabeth. My, how you’ve blossomed.”
Arthur Khan was sitting opposite him. Spread out on the desk, scattered over the swatch books he was previously looking at with Anya, were a selection of high quality eight by ten printouts that Khan had taken off his laptop that morning.
“It’s definitely her then?” Khan asked. “This Lizzie Barnes is Elizabeth Wallace?”
“Oh, yes. Well, Elizabeth Barnes as she is now. Married some American, I seem to recall. But it’s definitely her.”
“So you think Sumpter has betrayed us?”
“I think that is undoubtedly the case, Arthur. It seems you were correct, Aaron was not to be trusted after all. And your Mister Król is just as reliable as you claimed.”
“So Lizzie Barnes and Sumpter are working together. But what about Sawyer, do you think he’s with them too or are they just using him to get to our diamonds?”
“That is, indeed, the question, Arthur. My money would be on Sawyer not being part of it, but who knows. Whatever the answer, Aaron Sumpter has long out lived his usefulness. Do you think Mister Król can deal with that for us?”
“I’m sure he can, Peter, for the right incentive.” Replied Khan.
“Make it so then, Arthur, would you? Once Sumpter is out of the picture Król then needs to use his charms on Elizabeth and Sawyer, to find out once and for all where our merchandise is.”
“Fine, Peter, I’ll arrange it. What happens to Barnes and Sawyer afterwards?”
“I think they’ve had enough fun at our expense, don’t you, Arthur? Make sure Król finds out everything we need then tell him to get rid of them. I’ve had more than enough of these insects wasting my time.”
Arthur Khan smiled, then picked up the phone and called Król.
Chapter 32
Lizzie and Jake had been almost inseparable for nearly the whole time she had been in Nassau, their blossoming romance becoming more intense with each day that passed. Exactly as Aaron had planned it.
But, after yet another long day in Jake’s company, which ended with a romantic dinner watching the sun sink down into the beautiful Caribbean, Lizzie was having a major crisis of conscience.
The plan had seemed so easy when Aaron laid it out to her over the phone in Malibu.
But since she had joined Aaron in Nassau and actually gotten to know Jake, she was having serious reservations about what they were doing.
In actual fact, Lizzie now doubted she could go through with it at all.
The original plan was to get close to Jake Sawyer, find out where the diamonds were, then take them. But the reality was another matter altogether.
For a start she had not expected to even like Jake, let alone be attracted to him but she was, and if she was being honest with herself she was falling in love with him. It scared her that she had known him for only a short time, literally just a few days, yet already it felt like she had known him a lifetime.
Not only was he kind, gentle and funny but he was thoughtful and sensitive too, despite trying hard to disguise it. And even though he had made no mention of it, Lizzie knew about Jake’s past, as Aaron had compiled a full dossier which she had read and re-read several times. But rather than being shocked or outraged or even just partisan about what had happened and what he had done, she found that her overwhelming emotion was empathy. He had lost his family, his children, and she could tell that he blamed himself. There was a sadness in his eyes that she found deeply affecting. He was clearly still grieving and it upset Lizzie that she was being so dishonest with him when all she wanted to do was take him in her arms and make the pain go away.
She had not told him of her own pain, of how she had lost her brother and her father on the same day - buried them both on the same day. But she wanted to. She wanted him to know that she understood his grief.
Furthermore, Lizzie genuinely believed that Jake was a good guy, which seemed strange when knowing he had stolen a case full of priceless diamonds. But wasn’t she there in The Bahamas trying to do the exact same thing?
If he was a crook then so was she, in fact she was worse. Jake’s crime, from what she had read, was spontaneous, an act borne of shear desperation, but hers was premeditated and had been in the planning for years, even though her motives were not for personal gain but to find justice for her father and brother.
Why then could she not find justice for Jake’s family too? Why could they not work together to achieve the same goal?
She suspected that given the opportunity, Jake would jump at the chance to bring the real killers of his family to justice.
Lying in her bed that night, trying to stop herself wishing that Jake was there beside her, she resolved to tell him the truth.
But first she had to convince Aaron.
* * *
Jake was feeling guilty, too. For over two years it was the only emotion he had felt, because of what had happened to his family. But now, he was feeling guilty for another reason. Because he was happy and he did not deserve to be. But Lizzie Barnes had got to him. For the first time in a very long time, Jake was actually looking forward to the next day, and the day after that and for how many other days Lizzie decided to stay.
The other women he had been with - where he was trying desperately to feel something - he just simply did not.
But with her, it seemed like he was trying not to feel something, for fear of where it might lead. Purposely he had been putting off sleeping with her, almost to the point where she was probably starting to notice. But he knew that after making love to her he would no longer be able to resist her at all as she was already occupying almost every thought.
He was smitten that was for sure. More so than he dare admit. And even though being with her felt so right, he still couldn’t help thinking he was betraying his family. But he couldn’t stop seeing her either.
He decided that it was time to tell her the truth about him. It was a risk but it was one he had to take. If she still wanted to be with him after hearing everything he had to say then, perhaps, maybe it was right. If, on the other hand, she ran a mile, then maybe it wasn’t meant to be. However, telling her was a scary prospect. He had told no one the truth about himself in all the time he had been on the run. But he resolved to do it. Tomorrow, one way or another, Lizzie Barnes would know the truth about him.
Chapter 33
Aaron Sumpter was deeply concerned when Lizzie told him what she intended to do. It had taken so long to find Sawyer that they couldn’t afford for him to run again. Bearing and Khan’s patience had long since evaporated and Aaron knew he was working on borrowed time.
For the last eight months he had been deliberately fobbing them off, telling them that the trail had gone cold when in actuality it was boiling hot and he was getting ever closer to Sawyer.
Then, he finally hit pay dirt.
When he was absolutely one hundred percent certain that Jake Sloane was Jake Sawyer, he called Lizzie. She caught the next plane out, her desire to nail Bearing and Khan every bit as strong as Aaron’s.
But he had not anticipated this turn of events. Nor, in fairness, had she.
Lizzie was sitting on the couch in her bungalow, tears in her eyes, adamant about what she intended to do and Aaron, sitting next to her, knew he had no choice but to agree.
She was a bright, intuitive woman, if she trusted this man, then so must he. It was not the way he had planned it but, even though she was crying now, Aaron was glad she had found happiness once more.
“Very well, Elizabeth,” he said. “Go tell him if you feel you must, but please be careful.”
“Really Ronny? You really want me to?”
Sumpter nodded.
Lizzie beamed at him, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh thank you,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek, “It’ll be fine, you’ll see. I promise.”
Aaron nodded again and smiled resignedly. “Of course it will,” he said, as she bounded from the room.
* * *
Sumpter had noticed the man yesterday, as he walked back to Lizzie’s bungalow with an armful of groceries. The heavily tattooed man looked somehow out of place in the exclusive resort, more like a night club bounc
er than a wealthy holiday-maker. But then Aaron considered that he, himself, was not exactly the archetypical guest, so thought little more of it. Then, as he left to get a newspaper this morning, he noticed the man again, sitting on a bench several yards away and for some reason Aaron’s suspicions started to prickle.
After Lizzie left, Aaron was about to pack away his ever present laptop when something instinctively told him to be cautious. All the evidence that Aaron had gathered to prove Peter Bearing and Arthur Khan’s guilt was on the laptop and the back-up files were all at his home in Hampstead. A fact that suddenly bothered him.
On the spur of the moment, Aaron grabbed up his laptop, shoved it into its battered, well-travelled bag and jumped into his hired, bright orange Mini Moke. He sped out of the resort and headed the short distance into town with the intention of finding a computer store.
Once in Nassau city centre, Aaron cruised around until he found a likely looking mall close to the port. He squeezed the Mini Moke into the tiniest of parking spaces and as he turned off the ignition saw a Volkswagen Jetta out the corner of his eye slip into a space on the opposite side of the road. The driver was the tattooed man from the resort. Aaron was now officially worried.
He jumped out onto the busy, cobbled street that was thick with tourists - the majority of whom being daytrippers who had alighted from the variety of huge cruise ships docked not too far away, and wove himself into the crowd, trying to make himself as invisible as possible.
Darting into one dreary souvenir shop after another, Aaron eventually found what he was looking for in a little shop called ‘The Computer Cove’ which was located up a narrow side street. It, too, sold the obligatory souvenirs but the majority of these were computer themed, such as mousemats featuring various Caribbean scenes, CD racks shaped like palm trees and T-shirts with pixelated images of Bob Marley on the front saying ‘My Computer Keeps Jammin’!’
However, Aaron wasn’t looking for any of these but after rummaging around the store for what seemed like ages he did, indeed, find just what he wanted.
Finders Keepers Page 18