"No. Don't sell them. Get rid of them permanently; no bodies, no trace, no chance they'll come back to haunt us. And have someone take their boat out to the Tongue of the Ocean and scuttle it tonight."
An evil smile crossed the man's face, never reaching his eyes. He pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. "As you wish, Mr. Rolle. It's your money."
"Yes," Wallace said. "Speaking of that, each of them has three diamonds; one in each ear, and one somewhere else. I don't want to know where, but I want those diamonds back. I don't care how you and your friend remove them, or how long you spend doing it, but don't lose them; they're worth a fortune, and those bimbos haven't a clue. Any questions?"
The man shook his head, and Wallace and Sam quietly slipped into the saloon, leaving Pietro to entertain their guests.
Chapter 6
Ranjit Pandey had passed a rough night in the luxurious stateroom. He had never been aboard one of these magnificent yachts before, and he had always been curious about them, but circumstances precluded him from satisfying his curiosity. When the man who introduced himself as Sam Alfieri had shown up at his shop right at closing time and invited him to a meeting last night, he had been a little alarmed. He didn't know the man, and he had an intimidating manner about him, although he had not done anything threatening.
"Where is this meeting?" Ranjit had asked in a polite tone. "And with whom?"
Mr. Alfieri had smiled. "With Wallace Rolle, aboard his yacht, Rolle's Kate. You know who Mr. Rolle is, don't you?"
Ranjit had nodded nervously. Everybody knew who Wallace Rolle was; he was rumored to be the wealthiest man in the Bahamas. Ranjit wondered why a man like Wallace Rolle would invite a poor Indian jeweler to his yacht. Before he could ask, Alfieri gave him his answer.
"Mr. Rolle has seen some of your work; he has some loose stones that he would like to have incorporated into some gold plumbing fixtures aboard his yacht. He hopes that you will come and have a look; perhaps you could work up some sketches and discuss your ideas with him."
Ranjit relaxed; this was the kind of opportunity that he had dreamed about ever since he had opened his modest shop several years ago. "Well," he said, "I am very busy, you understand, but perhaps for someone like Mr. Rolle, I can…"
"Oh, don't worry," his visitor had interrupted. "It won't take but a few minutes to get to the yacht. I'll take you out and bring you back. It's just outside the harbor entrance, and Mr. Rolle will, of course, expect to pay you well for your valuable time this evening, even if you can't find a way to do the work for him."
"In that case, Mr. Alfieri, I will be happy to meet with Mr. Rolle. Please to wait just a moment while I close the shop, sir."
Twenty minutes later, after a fast ride through the harbor in Mr. Alfieri's boat, they had pulled up to the boarding platform at the back of a huge motor yacht which was idling just outside the harbor entrance. Mr. Alfieri had escorted him to this stateroom, suggesting that he make himself comfortable until Mr. Rolle was available to join him. Nodding nervously as he took in the posh appointments of the suite, Ranjit had agreed. He had never seen such fine furnishings, and on a yacht, no less. He had cautiously walked around, examining the furniture and décor, trying to calculate how much he might be able to make from such a wealthy patron. He noticed that the plumbing taps at the sink and shower were heavily plated with 18-karat gold.
He didn't begin to worry until a half an hour passed and he became aware that the vessel was moving. He pulled aside the draperies over one of the ports and saw that it was fully dark outside. He could make out lights ashore, receding in the distance; he wondered if that was Nassau. He decided to see if he could find Mr. Alfieri; perhaps he could make a phone call to let his wife know where he was.
When he discovered that he was locked in the plush cabin, he began to worry in earnest, but no amount of pounding on the door or yelling produced any results. After a while, he had considerately removed his shoes before stretching out on the bed with its heavy satin spread. Although tired, he had thought himself too upset to sleep.
The memories flashed through his mind as he shed the confusion of restless dreams. Someone was shaking his shoulder, and none too gently. He must have dropped off. He opened his eyes, blinking to focus, and saw a tall, thin man in a flowered silk shirt and white linen pants, a sinister smile on his handsome face. Ranjit shook his head vigorously trying to clear his vision, glancing at the clock on the night stand. He had slept for a couple of hours. "So sorry, Mr. Rolle," he stammered, his tongue sticking to the dry roof of his mouth as he sat up.
He didn't even see the thin man move, but he felt his lips split against his teeth from a backhand blow. He started to spit in a reflex action as the man grabbed his hair and jerked him to his feet.
"Don't bleed on the bedspread, you filthy scum," the man hissed as he twisted Ranjit's arm up behind his back and shoved him toward the door.
Ranjit, fully alert now, saw that there was a swarthy, heavy-set man standing by the door, a gleeful look on his face. "He's a pretty one, ain't he, Pietro?" the swarthy man asked. "Two girls for me; one pretty boy for you. Nice night, innit?" Ranjit heard the thin man's girlish giggle as he increased the pressure on Ranjit's arm.
"Maybe. But first, he has to answer some questions for Mr. Alfieri and Mr. Rolle."
****
Several hours later, Sam and Wallace sat at the table by the hot tub with Pietro, drinking coffee after having finished a hearty breakfast that had featured filets of flying fish, freshly collected from the bow deck that morning by the chef. The starched white table cloth was bare except for a single Wedgwood plate in the center which contained six diamond earrings. Four of them were still attached to bits of flesh that were quite clearly earlobes; the other two studs pierced small pieces of smoothly shaven, once hairy flesh of less certain origin.
"The jeweler recognized his work," Pietro said, a dreamy smile on his narrow face. "It made him sick, though, when he saw what those girls had done with the extra pair of earrings. He's a squeamish sort, unfortunately."
"Why unfortunately?" Wallace asked.
"I like a little challenge," the thin man said. "He told us everything he knew before I even asked, just as soon as he saw the earrings. He was so pretty, too; it was all over far too quickly. Davey had a much better time with the girls than I had with dear, sweet Ranjit."
"Leave us, please, Pietro," Wallace said, disgusted. "Is the jeweler still with us?" he asked as an afterthought before the thin man moved.
"Yes. Why?" Pietro stood up.
"Have him remove those stones from the settings before you finish him," Wallace ordered.
Pietro giggled. "Ah. I fear that such fine work is beyond his grasp. Something about the fingertips. Such delicate morsels, you see…"
"Enough," Wallace interrupted. "I want those stones. Clean – sterilized. Now go."
Pietro smirked and gave a little bow. He turned and minced away, disappearing around the side of the cabin house.
"Sick bastard," Sam grumbled. "How can you stand to keep him around?"
"He is disturbing to most people -- but useful because of it," Wallace said. "Cheer up, Sam. Once Davey and Pietro clean out the safe in Ranjit's shop, we should be almost whole on the missing shipment."
"No way. It might make up what's missing in the short term and keep us afloat, but that's only because we've already absorbed that loss. We're still missing the $10 million in diamonds that Joseph has, don't forget."
"And Joseph."
"And Joseph. Where could he be?" Sam asked.
"Well, neither Ranjit nor the girls saw him in Nassau recently, and they were expecting him," Wallace mused. "He could have skipped out with the shipment, but…"
"But where to and why now?" Sam finished the thought.
"Exactly. He had a good thing going. If we hadn't gotten suspicious because he hasn't shown up, he'd still be skimming and we would still be fat, dumb, and happy. Little bastard. Last time I'll trust my sister's husband'
s niece's brother-in-law."
"How can you keep all that family shit straight, Wallace?"
"Oh, I can't most of the time. But it doesn't really matter. We're all God's children. Except for Pietro."
****
The housekeeping supervisor at the resort took the camera bag from the maid and set it on the table that served as her desk. She unzipped the perimeter zipper and opened the ballistic nylon case, folding back the top. She took in the fitted compartments with the shiny camera and the multiple lenses; she didn't have any detailed knowledge of photographic equipment, but she didn't need detailed knowledge to recognize that this was expensive stuff. "Prob'ly worth more than you an' me make in a year," she said, glancing up at the maid.
"Lost an' foun'?" the girl asked.
The supervisor nodded. She filled out a receipt and gave it to the maid and zipped the case closed, taking it to the hotel office. The assistant manager was on the phone when she entered. She pointed at the bag and he nodded, pushing a pad of blank forms across the desk to her. She sat down in the guest chair in front of his desk and filled in the top form, pushing the pad back to him. He turned it around, scanned it quickly, and initialed the page.
"Yes sir, of course you're right, sir," he said into the phone, rolling his eyes at her knowing smile. He opened the top drawer of his desk and took out a ring of keys, passing them to her and raising his eyebrows. She took the keys and nodded.
Standing, she picked up the camera bag and walked out into the hall to the lost and found closet, fumbling through the keys until she found the one that opened the door. She stepped into the small, square room, three walls of which were lined with utilitarian shelving. She found an empty spot and put the case down carefully, noticing that it was right beside the expensive, pale leather briefcase that they had found in that Latina's room last week.
She was surprised that the woman hadn't called to claim it by now; it was clearly an expensive case. She wondered how the woman had come to have such a fine case with a man's name on it, though. She picked it up, enjoying the soft buttery feel of the leather. "Joseph Nelson," she murmured softly. "Who are you, and why was your case behind the bed in that beautiful woman's room?" She shook her head. "Not my business," she said, softly. She turned off the light and locked the door, walking back toward the office to return the keys.
Chapter 7
"What's the harm in it?" Liz asked. She and Dani sat at the dining table in Vengeance's saloon, enjoying a cup of tea while Connie steered.
"It just seems odd to me," Dani protested. "In all my years working charters, even going back to when I was a child, I don't remember a guest wanting to be put on the watch schedule. Take the helm once in a while? Sure. Most of them want to 'drive the boat.' This Connie, though, she's intense; she's like a sponge, soaking up every bit of information that she can."
"After your little lesson on danger bearings the other day, she sat down with me and sketched it all out on paper. Wanted to make sure she got it right."
"You mean from when we passed the cruise ship in the Northeast Providence Channel?" Dani asked, surprise on her face.
"Yes. It's like she's really determined to learn everything. I've found her at the chart table, too, studying the position plots. She wanted to know how to plot a fix from the GPS. She had worked out the concept, but she was confused because the GPS was reading in degrees and thousandths, and the scale on the chart is in degrees and minutes. Once I explained the difference and how to convert, she got it right away. I think she's just completely hooked; she said she'd never imagined what this would be like. Now she thinks she wants a boat of her own."
"Well, I can't blame her for that," Dani said, "but should we trust her with Vengeance on a night watch?"
"We could just keep to our normal watch schedule tonight and let her think we're asleep."
"I can't sleep but four hours at a stretch at sea anyway," Dani said. "I guess I could stay below and read. Like you said, what's the harm?"
Liz nodded, sipping her tea. "We're a day's sail from the nearest hazard; if a squall blows up, we'd both turn out to reduce sail anyway. I can't think of anything else that might happen to mess her up. Let's let her try it."
"What if she falls asleep and hits another boat?" Dani asked.
"I'll set a guard band on the radar for a couple of miles. It'll warn us if anybody gets too close," Liz said.
"All right. You work it out with her. I'm crashing. See you in four hours." Dani stood up and headed for the cabin that she and Liz shared when they had guests aboard.
"Sleep well," Liz said.
****
Wallace put the word out among all his part-time thugs that the first one to find Joseph Nelson or Blacksnake would be rewarded with $1,000 U.S. Joseph might no longer be in the islands, but it was most likely that his boat was. Boats like Blacksnake were fast and seaworthy, but they consumed prodigious amounts of fuel, and Wallace knew that Blacksnake's tankage limited her range to about 200 miles under ideal conditions. While it was possible to fit such a boat with extra fuel tanks to extend the range, the mechanic in Bimini had reported that Blacksnake had no extra fuel capacity when he saw her right before Joseph's departure.
Wallace's people were diligently checking with relatives who had access to airline data, and several were circulating around the waterfront with photos, asking if Joseph had been seen on any of the interisland freighters. Still others were asking at the hotels and guest houses. If Joseph had gone to ground in the Bahamas, he was most likely in Nassau or Freeport. A stranger would be too obvious anywhere else. Besides, Wallace figured that Joseph might be looking to sell a large quantity of the diamonds. If he had indeed stolen the shipment, he was too smart to try to liquidate it in the Bahamas. That meant international travel. Unless Joseph managed to get aboard a private vessel, he would leave enough of a trail that someone would spot him.
Wallace's thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of the intercom on his desk. "Yes?" he answered.
"Mr. Rolle, Willie Davis is here to see you," his secretary announced.
"Send him in, please," Wallace said.
In a moment, the door opened. "We got a sign," Willie announced as he sat down, tossing a water-stained, soft leather briefcase on Wallace's desk.
Wallace glanced at it long enough to see the name 'Joseph Nelson' in gold leaf on the flap of the case. "Where?" he asked.
"Resort out on Hog Island."
"He stayed there?" Wallace asked, picking up the case and opening it. He was not surprised to see that it was empty.
"Not that anybody knows. One of the maids found the case behind the bed in a woman's room."
Wallace rolled his eyes, suppressing a chuckle. "That's Joseph. Who's the woman?"
"Maria Velasquez," Willie answered. "She was a real looker, too, the bellman said."
"Of course she was. What else do we know about her?"
"She was American. Paid cash. She gave an address in Miami. That's it so far."
"No photo i.d., I guess," Wallace mused.
"No such luck. She showed a U.S. passport when she checked in, but they didn't make a copy."
"All right. Check the airlines, and call Toby in Miami. Let me know the minute you have anything."
Willie nodded and left as Wallace reached for the phone and dialed Sam's number.
****
"She could be anybody," Sam said. "Probably just some babe he picked up in the bar."
"Why would his briefcase be in her room, though?" Wallace asked. "And why empty?"
"Any number of reasons. It's too damned obvious to take it at face value. If she had picked up the diamonds from Joseph, she would have ditched it where we wouldn't find it, don't you think?" Sam asked.
"You think he meant for us to find it?" Wallace mused.
"Or she did. He's your cousin. Is he bright enough to lay a false trail like that? You'd know better than I would."
"I didn't think he was clever enough to be skimming diamonds with that je
weler in the first place. Fooled me that time; I guess he could be smarter than I gave him credit for being," Wallace said. "What do you think we should do?"
"We need to keep pushing. No choice but to check out this Maria Velasquez; she could have the diamonds, or she could just be a one-night stand and Joseph dumped the case in her room to confuse us. Either way, we have to stay on his trail. Now we have to stay on hers, too. Little bastard just doubled our work."
"Should you spread the word to be on the lookout for someone trying to sell those diamonds?" Wallace asked.
"I covered that avenue. I put the word out that I was looking to buy. High quality diamonds like these are scarce enough that I'll hear if any of the dealers come across a single one of them in this part of the world. I didn't want to give any indication that we were missing a shipment."
"Good thinking. Don't want our clients hearing rumors," Wallace said, nodding. "I'm sending a guy back to the resort; he only talked to the assistant manager. The guy in the office remembered the briefcase. He said the housekeeping supervisor brought it in and put it in the lost and found closet. Maybe the maid who found it noticed something useful in the room while Velasquez was there."
"Okay. Stay in touch."
"Yeah," Wallace said as he got up to leave. "It'll probably be tomorrow; the maids have gone for the day by now."
Chapter 8
Willie Davis was a determined man; he was close to that $1,000 reward that Mr. Rolle was offering. Toby might get part of it if he found the Velasquez woman in Miami, but that didn't seem very likely. Miami was a big place, and Maria Velasquez was a common name. Willie figured he had a better chance of finding Joseph in Nassau.
He was sitting in the housekeeping office at the resort, waiting for the supervisor to come back with the maid who had found Joseph's briefcase. He wished that she would hurry up. The big washers and dryers made a horrendous racket, not to mention the heat they gave off. He could feel the sweat running down his spine inside his shirt; he'd need a shower once he was out of here.
Bluewater Ice: The Fourth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 4) Page 4