Cole looked at her quizzically. ‘Not really isn’t no. What does that mean?’
‘It means that I haven’t had anything positive. I don’t seem to get premonitions like I used to. I’ve had nothing significant in the last couple of years. But, there is something bugging me.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Well, it feels like she’s in great danger, but then again, that she isn’t.’
‘That doesn’t make any sense,’ said Cole.
‘I also feel that she has definitely been taken against her will, but that also she hasn’t.’
‘Again, doesn’t make sense.’
Maddie shrugged. She looked apologetic.
‘Docherty is suggesting that we go to the Azores. Apparently Solomon travelled there a while ago. We think he was looking for something, or someone. Does that mean anything to you? Do you sense anything from that?’
‘I think that’s enough questions for now.’ Hedge was getting worried that all this might be stressing his sister out.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind. I’m sorry though Cole. I just get the same feeling. What it is that you may be trying to find is connected to the kidnapping, but also that it is not. I can’t explain what that means. Maybe you should go and try to find out some more.’
They said goodbye to Maddie, and waved her off on the train back to central London.
There was no direct flight to Sao Miguel, so the two of them boarded a short flight to Lisbon, where they would change planes before heading on to the Azores. Hedge was unhappy, as he really wanted to get back to his flat, and his sister, and his life. He was caught in a trap between really not wanting to be involved in this, but he knew how desperate Cole was becoming.
The only flights available were by using one of the many European low-cost carriers. So it was after much time spent in queues, and having consumed some very low quality coffee’s, and having endured four hours of their legs being squashed in behind the seats in front of them, that they landed on the island of Sao Miguel.
They checked into a small hotel in the town of Ponta Delgada. This was the islands capital, and was just a short taxi ride from the airport.
‘We need to find out what Solomon was doing here. It may give us a clue as to why or where he has taken Alice.’
Hedge nodded in response. He wasn’t sure it would be that easy, especially after what Maddie had said, but he didn’t want to say as much.
The following day was bright and sunny, although there was a stiff breeze blowing in from the Atlantic. It was early morning, and Cole and Hedge sat at a small cafe close to the smart looking marina. In the distance they could see several fishing boats returning to harbour, hopefully with a good catch in their holds.
They were waiting for the Town Hall to open at nine o’clock.
A young Portuguese woman greeted them as they walked in. She addressed them in almost perfectly spoken English. Hedge looked down at himself quickly to see what it was that so clearly marked them out as visitors from England. He was baffled. Had he been wearing an English football shirt, or a T-shirt bearing a slogan written in English, he could understand. He let the thought go as Cole was talking to the woman.
‘We were hoping you could help us. A friend of ours visited your lovely island last summer. We were hoping to find out where he stayed and what he visited while he was here.’
The woman looked back at him and frowned. ‘I don’t know how I could help you with that. Why don’t you ask your friend directly?’
Cole hesitated for a moment. He must be losing it, he thought to himself. What a dumb question he had asked.
‘I would but he ... er ... he died quite recently. All we know was that he strongly recommended a visit to the island.’ Cole was looking at a large, colourful poster on the wall behind the woman’s desk. ‘He said that the volcanic mountain scenery was spectacular.’
‘I’m sad to hear about his death,’ said the lady. ‘I can’t help you though, sorry.’
They thanked her and turned to leave the building. As they walked towards the exit, Hedge spotted a door on the left with a sign above. It read ‘Biblioteca.’
I’m not sure about Portuguese, but in French something similar to that means the library.
‘Great,’ said Cole sarcastically, ‘let’s go see if they have any Enid Blyton shall we?’
‘Or newspapers,’ said Hedge. ‘Come on.’
They entered a large room, with many shelves all around the outside, neatly stacked with books. Hedge saw what he was looking for almost immediately, and walked over to a long table with a bank of computer screens sitting on top. He sat at one of the screens and hit the space bar on the keyboard. The screen flickered into life.
A menu appeared on the screen, and the third item down the list was the word ‘Jornal.’
‘I think that’s it,’ said Hedge.
There was a mouse control next to the keyboard and he clicked on Jornal. The screen returned a set of numbers arranged in a square.
‘It’s a calendar. What date did our friend Solomon arrive here on the island?’
‘He was here for three days according to my source,’ replied Cole.
Hedge typed in each day in turn, and they looked at the pages of news that appeared. There must have been around ten pages for each day, but there was nothing that jumped out at them. The news was written in Portuguese of course, but it would have been obvious if anything exciting was mentioned in the headlines. On the third day they looked at, the front page of the local paper had a colour picture of an old man, beaming from ear to ear. In his arms he held a massive looking water melon. The headline in bold letters was ‘Um Monstro.’
‘So Solomon came here to find a monster water melon then. Is that what you are telling me?’
Hedge looked at Cole with a slightly embarrassed look. ‘It was worth a try wasn’t it?’
Cole turned and walked towards the door of the library.
Hedge tapped the page to bring up the newspaper for the next day. It was a long shot as Solomon would have left the island by then. There was nothing of interest in the headlines. He tapped the next day. Still nothing.
‘What were you doing here?’ Hedge mumbled to himself.
He tapped the keyboard one last time, and then turned to go. But he stopped himself and turned back to face the computer screen.
‘Cole,’ he shouted across the room. ‘You might want to see this.’
Cole strode back to have a look.
There in front of them was a large headline in bold letters.
‘Acidente Horrivel.’
The picture underneath was a body of a man lying in a field. The corpse looked like it was covered in mud. They assumed it was a man, although it was difficult to tell as the head was missing.
‘Horrible accident,’ said Hedge, or something like that.
‘Yes. Something like that,’ replied Cole.
Chapter Thirty Five
The island’s main police station was not far from the Town Hall. It was still quite windy outside, and it had started to drizzle with rain. The island of Sao Miguel could be beautiful on a warm, sunny day. But there was a price to pay for all that greenery. The hillsides were covered with bright green bushes and shrubs, all the more easy to grow due to the nature of the volcanic soil.
But the price of green was rain. And today it looked like payment was going to be collected.
They ignored the light precipitation as the two of them made their way down a road called Dos Mercadores. They passed the well maintained landmark known as the City Gates – a popular tourist attraction. In the distance they could see the Fort De Sao Bras standing proudly on the sea front, looking out for invaders from beyond the Atlantic. Apparently, the fort’s construction had started as early as 1560, but now the building was mainly used as a museum.
They located the police station, and pushed their way through the large double doors. They were lucky, as the young police officer on the front desk seemed only too happy to
talk to them about the incident that they had seen in the newspaper at the library.
‘I remember it well. We don’t get many happenings like that’
The man spoke with a heavy accent, but his English was easily understandable.
‘I was asked to go and help with recovering the body.’
‘The paper said it was an accident,’ Cole said. He phrased it to the young man as a question.
‘Not so,’ said the officer. ‘The head had been cut off with a large knife. The blade of the weapon was two inches wide and very sharp. We didn’t find the head, although we had our suspicions about where it may have gone.’
Cole looked at him and shrugged his shoulders.
The policeman laughed. ‘There was a field of very hungry looking pigs near to the murder scene. That’s an easy way to dispose of any evidence.’ He nodded to himself. He was clearly enjoying recounting the events of that time.
‘So the man was beheaded then. Not a nice way to die.’
‘Not so,’ contradicted the officer. It was clearly a favourite English expression of his. ‘The cause of death was drowning. His head had been held below the surface of a small pool of animal manure. The autopsy found that his lungs were completely full of a mixture of pig’s shit and urine.’
Hedge winced, and shook his head slowly.
‘You were lucky he left the knife behind. That would have given you some good fingerprints or samples of DNA maybe?’ Cole said.
‘Not so. No evidence was obtained from the knife. It had been pushed far up the backside of the victim. By the time it was recovered, it was badly contaminated.’
‘Ouch! That would have hurt,’ said Hedge.
‘Not so.’ The young man was enjoying his superior knowledge of the event. ‘If you think about it, the head would have been cut off first. The man would be dead before the knife was thrust into his anus.’
Hedge smiled at his own stupidity. ‘Of course, but he must have been one angry man to have carried out that attack when his victim was no longer alive.’
‘Did they find who killed him?’ Cole asked.
‘Not so. It remains a mystery. He wasn’t well known here. He had no family and few friends. He kept himself to himself, as you say. I believe he came to live here a few years ago. He came from another island.’
‘From another island in the Azores?’ said Cole.
‘Not so,’ said the man. ‘He came from the island of Cyprus. I remember that point very clearly. We don’t get many Greeks come to live here.’
Cole’s eyes flew open. He looked across at Hedge, who was looking a bit perplexed.
‘That doesn’t mean anything though really, does it?’
‘Not so,’ replied Cole. ‘Not so.’
Chapter Thirty Six
Just as Cole and Hedge were arriving back from the Azores, the man known as Solomon was nervously pacing around in his apartment. He had laid low long enough, it was time for him to start the next phase of his plan.
He turned on his laptop and opened the communication program he had installed. A screen appeared which covered the entire space of the laptop display. He dialled a number using the touchpad. An intermittent beep started to sound. After a few seconds the head of a man appeared on the screen.
‘Hello, Mr. Solomon,’ said the man.
The face on the screen was quite scary to look at. The man had small features, with blond hair, and an almost white, small, well-trimmed beard. But it was the eyes that you couldn’t help noticing. The colour in the middle of each eye was pink. It was apparently a rare characteristic of someone who might be described as an albino. It gave the appearance of a person who may have been permanently on strong hallucinogenic drugs.
‘Don’t use names on this channel. I’ve told you that before.’ Solomon was angry. The man he had recruited to carry out the kidnapping of Cole’s wife was a hard-nosed professional. He was good at what he did. Solomon had used his services many times before. But he was also prone to make the occasional stupid mistake. He needed to be managed closely.
‘Where have you got the woman? I hope she is being kept safe?’
The albino smiled. ‘She is well. I am looking after her. She is comfortable in the other room.’
‘Go and get her. Show her to me.’
The albino pressed a button on his keyboard, as he responded to his paymaster.’
‘I have put you on mute for a moment, and taken your picture of my screen. You can still see and hear us though. I don’t want her to see you or accidentally hear your voice. We need to take all precautions.’ He smiled to himself. That was a clever thought. Hopefully his boss would overlook the use of his name. It was an easy mistake to make.
‘There’s no need to …’ Solomon stopped before saying anything else. Clearly the man on the other end could no longer hear him.
The albino moved off to his right, and Solomon watched as he left the room. He came back a few moments later pushing a woman in front of him. There was a large, leather sofa in the middle of the room. No other furniture was visible. The albino sat the woman down and moved to stand behind her. They were both facing the screen.
‘Are you happy with what you see?’ The albino was talking to the screen.
Solomon could see them clearly. The woman looked to be in her late forties. There was an anxious look on her face, and her eyes were darting all over the room. She looked like she had been crying - her makeup was smudged, and her eyes were bloodshot. The thing that most annoyed Solomon though, was that she had a strip of sticky brown tape across her mouth.
Solomon was enraged. ‘Take that off her mouth, immediately. Are you listening to …’ He cut himself off. The albino could no longer see or hear him.
Solomon tapped on his computer keypad frantically, but the only way the sound could be adjusted was from the laptop that the albino was using.
‘You stupid fool,’ he was shouting. It was a waste of time. The albino couldn’t hear him. He tried to control himself and focus on what was going on in the room.
The albino bent down and put his arm around the woman’s neck. He looked across at the screen sitting on the table a few feet away. With his free hand he forced open her blouse, ripping off several buttons as he did so. He pulled her bra down so that her left breast was exposed, and he cupped this with his free hand.
The woman tried to struggle, but she was being held tight around the neck. She was only a small lady, and the man holding her was strong.
‘Do you like what you see? I’m sure this is a much better view for you.’ The albino was laughing now, he was enjoying himself. He wasn’t clear on why he had been asked to steal this woman, but he was sure Solomon wouldn’t mind a little abuse.
Solomon was livid. This was not what he wanted. It wasn’t part of his plan to do this sort of thing. As he looked on at the scene before him, his anger went into overdrive.
The albino had managed to drag the woman round to the back of the sofa, and had bent her forwards over the back of it. He lifted up her skirt, revealing her red underwear. The material was thin cotton, and so it was with ease that he simply ripped them off her. Looking directly at the screen, and still laughing, he started to undo his jeans with his free hand. The other arm was pushing the woman down hard against the top of the sofa.
He’d managed to get his jeans and underwear down, and started to push his erection against her naked rear end. The woman screamed loudly and tried to struggle free from his grip. The albino punched her hard in the side of the face.
‘Keep still you stupid whore.’
The woman was distraught. She started crying.
Solomon was watching closely. There was a blazing rage across his face. He was shouting at the screen in front of him, but his anger was unheard.
The albino looked up and shouted out. ‘Pink or brown?’
Then he laughed, before turning his attention back to the woman. She was still trying to wriggle free, so he punched her once more, this time in the middle of he
r upper back. He pushed her head forward a little more, and thrust his lower body hard against her, and with one quick movement, he penetrated her.
The woman felt a tearing feeling inside her, and shrieked loudly. Tears were still flowing down her face. Then, her body seemed to relax, almost as if she had given up the struggle.
Suddenly, the albino jumped backwards. He released his hold on the woman as he did so.
‘You dirty bitch,’ he screamed. He was trying to wipe something off his groin area, and the front of his jeans. ‘You filthy, dirty, bitch.’
The albino moved back towards the woman, and raising his right hand, he slapped her hard across the side of her face. Then he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back to the room where he had first retrieved her from.
‘What a dirty cow,’ he was looking at the screen now.
Solomon was frothing at the mouth. This was not part of the plan. He was absolutely enraged by this behaviour towards the woman. His face was contorted and his eyes were bulging in their sockets.
‘Did you enjoy that little show my friend? Pity it couldn’t have ended better. Maybe it will next time.’ The albino was moving towards the screen, and had pressed a button once more on the keypad. The mute effect had been cancelled.
Solomon turned away from looking at the camera on his laptop. He tried to compose himself. He took a few deep breaths, wiped his face, and then returned to look at the screen. He had managed to calm himself very quickly, but inside he was still raging with anger.
‘I don’t like that sort of thing. Please don’t repeat it.’ He sounded relaxed once more.
The albino laughed. ‘Whatever you say is fine by me. You’re the man paying for all this.’
‘Yes I am, and on that subject, I am sending someone over to replace you immediately. Your job is done. The payment is waiting for you. There is even a well deserved bonus. Meet me tomorrow at the usual place and I can settle up with you.’
The albino smiled. He was going to make good money on this job.
Solomon shut down his computer.
Three days later a body of a strange looking man was washed up on the bank of the river Thames, not far from the Thames Barrier.
The Terminate Code: A gripping, page-turning, action adventure revenge thriller, with a fast pace, and a terrifying twist in its tail ! (Hedge & Cole Book 2) Page 14