Bluewater Ice: The Fourth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 4)

by Charles Dougherty

  "That's enough; I can guess the rest if the need arises. I don't think you'll get very far with extradition on either one of them; you'd best figure on serving those warrants outside the Bahamas."

  "That's what I thought," Paul said. "Do they travel out of the country much?"

  "Mm," Neil thought for a moment. "I can't say whether they leave the Bahamas, but they do seem to spend a lot of time out of Nassau. Rolle's got a big motor-yacht and the two of them are forever ferrying people out to 'business meetings' aboard. Monkey business, most likely."

  "What's the yacht called?"

  "Rolle's Kate."

  "Rollerskate?" Paul asked, remembering what Lena Mele had told him a few days earlier.

  "Not Rollerskate," Neil chuckled. "Rolle's Kate. That's his last name and his mother's first name. He makes a thing of explaining it."

  "I see. Does he keep her here in Nassau?"

  "She's berthed at the marina in the resort over on Paradise Island when she's here. I was having lunch with a client over there yesterday, though, and while we watched, Alfieri and Rolle went aboard and they left straight away."

  "Does the name 'Pietro Jovanovich' sound familiar to you?" Paul asked.

  "Yes. He's Rolle's head flunky. Showed up here about the same time as Alfieri. There are all sorts of strange rumors about him and his sidekick, both."

  "His sidekick?" Paul asked.

  "Davey, he's called. Davey Jones. Some kind of mercenary, apparently. He comes as part of the package with Jovanovich, from what I hear. Davey's a nasty piece of work; he's ruined some working girls, but nobody'll do anything about it."

  "Ruined?" Paul asked.

  "Remember Sampson Smith?" Neil asked.

  "Sure," Paul said. "He had a thing for working girls, didn't he?"

  "Still does, in a way. He runs the vice squad now."

  "That's ironic. Why do you mention him?"

  "He told me not too long ago that this Davey character has a reputation for mutilating the girls. One of the pimps wanted him locked up – he was spoiling the merchandise. I didn't ask for details, but the pimp disappeared before he could make a formal complaint."

  "Nasty," Paul remarked.

  Neil nodded. "Davey looks like a real thug. Now, Jovanovich, he's different -- weird, different. Keeps to himself. And he looks like a movie star. Maybe from a vampire movie or something, though. They're supposedly Rolle's muscle."

  "Should we order lunch?" Paul asked.

  "Too right! Enough of this business. I'll get the first round and some menus," Neil said, sliding out of the booth.

  ****

  Paul awoke from a late afternoon nap in his air-conditioned hotel room to the sound of the phone ringing. He fumbled the receiver to his ear as he rolled to a sitting position and checked his wristwatch. After a groggy hello, he heard Luke Pantene's characteristic laugh.

  "Woke you up, didn't I?" Luke asked.

  "Yeah. Neil said to give you his best, by the way."

  "Great. Thanks. How's he doing?"

  "Looks the same. Says practicing law is boring."

  "You called earlier; the message said you had something on the Toby Rodriguez case," Luke said.

  "Right," Paul said. He then proceeded to summarize what he had learned.

  "So, it sounds like Rolle probably put a hit on old Toby, doesn't it?" Luke asked.

  "Yeah, but first you're going to need to catch his two enforcers," Paul said.

  "Right. Thanks, Paul. Eat some conch fritters for me, will ya? I gotta get back to it."

  Paul heard the click as Luke hung up the phone. He held the receiver in his left hand and rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. Then he reached out and pressed down the buttons in the cradle on the telephone with an index finger, waiting a couple of seconds for dial tone. Flipping his notebook open, he placed a call to Phillip in Martinique and once more explained what he had learned from Neil Pinder.

  Chapter 29

  Vengeance occupied one of the public mooring buoys right off the town of Bourg des Saintes. Liz and Connie were sitting in the town square munching on freshly baked pain au chocolat while they waited for Dani. She had gone to the mairie expecting to have the policeman on duty submit her clearance request to customs in Pointe-à-Pitre by facsimile, only to learn that they had changed the procedure since her last visit. The helpful gendarme had directed her to the local Internet café, where she was to fill out the forms online at a specially designated computer. Typically, the computer was broken and no one seemed too interested, so she bought three coffees to go and went to join Liz and Connie.

  "How will we clear into Dominica without the paperwork from here?" Connie asked, after Dani had related her experience.

  "The officials in Dominica are used to it," Dani said. "Half the time, the office at the mairie was closed, so you couldn't clear in or out. Technically, you were supposed to go all the way to Pointe-à-Pitre when that happened, but they didn't really expect anybody to do it. This deal with the Internet café was supposed to make it easier for everybody – visitors and the officials – but this is typical of the French bureaucracy. Ehh!" Dani concluded, accompanying her grunt with an exaggerated rendition of a typical Gallic shrug.

  "There's a great little reef at the west end of Anse du Fond Curé," Liz said. "Let's go get the snorkeling gear and check it out. By the time we're done, it'll be time to eat, and there's a good spot right on the beach -- fresh seafood, and no need to change out of our bathing suits. We'll just beach the dinghy right in front of the restaurant when we get tired of looking at the fish."

  "Sounds good to me," Connie said. "Early dinner, back to Vengeance for a quick shower, and I'll be ready to crash. Sailing takes it out of me. How do you guys do it?"

  "You get used to it," Dani said. "People who don't sail in open water have no idea how much exercise you get trying to sit in one place when the boat's in constant motion."

  "I sure didn't realize it," Connie said. "No wonder you two are so slim. I wondered at first, given Liz's cooking."

  They gathered up the paper bags from their bakery treats as they stood, tossing their trash into a street-corner bin as they ambled back to the dinghy dock. They paused on the dock to watch a fast ferry threading its way through the yachts in the harbor en route to the commercial dock.

  "It's about to get very quiet," Liz remarked. "That's the last ferry from Pointe-à-Pitre. All the day-trippers will be gone in 30 minutes or so. That one's usually almost empty on the way over here, but it goes back jammed to the gunwales."

  ****

  "All right!" Davey exclaimed, his misshapen nose pressed to the glass as the ferry idled across the harbor. "We got 'em this time."

  Pietro smirked as he stood beside Davey studying Vengeance. "They must be ashore," he remarked. "Looks to be closed up."

  "Maybe we can get aboard before they get back," Davey suggested.

  "Don't be a fool. It's broad daylight. For all you know, they're sitting in one of those restaurants looking out over the harbor. They'd probably notice if we boarded, don't you think?"

  "So we gotta watch for them to go back to the boat?" Davey asked. "I want that Latina now. Maybe we can catch 'em in town."

  "You're thinking with the wrong head again. Use the ugly one on your shoulders for a change."

  "Screw you, mate. Whaddaya want? Wait until dark?"

  "Listen to me. I'll explain this once; if you don't get it, I'll leave you in the hotel and do it myself."

  "Like hell," Davey blustered. "I ain't…" he gasped for breath as he felt a sharp pain from the vicinity of his left kidney. He pushed himself against the glass, trying to alleviate the blinding pain, but it stayed with him.

  "Just a little more pressure and I wouldn't have to put up with you anymore," Pietro said, in a tone just above a whisper. "Will you listen?"

  "Yes," Davey wheezed.

  Pietro handed him a three-inch-long hat pin. "Keep this to remind you to listen to me, okay?"

  Davey snatched
the pin and bent it between his fingers, pressing on it with his thumb. He threw it to the deck.

  "I have more," Pietro said with his infuriating smirk.

  "I'm not stayin' in the hotel an' let you have the girls all to yourself," Davey snarled.

  "If I have to leave you there, you'll stay until somebody finds your smelly, rotting carcass after a few days. Now shut up."

  Davey stared out the glass, the muscles in his jaw twitching. Pietro gave him a couple of minutes to calm down. When he thought Davey was in control of himself again, he put a hand on his shoulder and turned him so that they were face to face.

  "I need you to enjoy the girls, Davey; I want you to have them. That's all part of the plan; it will free up their tongues, and you know I don't like girls anyway. Don't worry. Just don't be so impatient, okay?"

  Davey gave a grudging nod. "Yeah, okay," he muttered.

  "Now, here's the plan," Pietro said, putting an arm around Davey's huge shoulders and leaning close to whisper in his ear.

  ****

  Dani passed from sleep to wakefulness instantly, the way only a seasoned sailor or a combat veteran could. She took in the soft glow from the luminous hands on the clock on the bulkhead as she looked toward Liz's berth on the other side of the cabin -- four o'clock in the morning. She sat up in her bunk and peered out the porthole to see the lights of Bourg des Saintes and remembered that they were on a mooring, so she didn't have to worry about the anchor dragging. She registered that there was no wind; it had been completely calm when they returned to the boat last night. Something was amiss but she couldn't tell what. Then she heard the soft squeak of a salt-encrusted mooring line working against a cleat or a chock, followed by a small splash.

  "Clear," a man's voice said in a quiet tone, and Vengeance's diesel rumbled softly to life.

  Dani reached over and gave Liz's shoulder a quick shake as she got to her feet. She put a hand over Liz's mouth and leaned down to whisper in her ear. Liz awakened as quickly as Dani had, and they felt Vengeance begin to accelerate gradually. Within 15 seconds, they were both dressed in yesterday's clothes, and Dani reached into a drawer and took out two commando-style folding knives. She passed one to Liz as she opened her own with a practiced flip of her thumb. She raised her eyebrows in the dim, predawn light that filtered through the portlights, and Liz nodded that she was ready.

  With her knife hidden against her right thigh, Dani put her left hand on the doorknob and turned it, releasing the latch that held the door to their cabin closed. She pulled gently, meeting resistance immediately. As she applied more force, the door moved slightly, but it wouldn't open enough for her to see through the crack.

  "They lashed it closed," Liz whispered in her ear.

  Dani nodded. She considered climbing out through the forward hatch, but decided that whoever was moving Vengeance would be expecting that. She unlocked the blade of the knife and folded it closed, slipping it into her pocket. Liz followed suit.

  "Helpless females," Dani said softly as a mischievous smile spread across her face.

  "Whoever they are, they'll let us out eventually," Liz said. "Might as well foster the illusion that they're in control, right?"

  "Right. Can't believe I didn't wake sooner. They're good."

  They felt Vengeance begin to pitch as the seas built.

  "We must be headed out the Passe de Baleine to hit open water so fast," Liz said. "These guys have to be after the diamonds."

  "Yes. Sneak thieves wouldn't tie us in the cabins and move the boat. They'd have snatched something and run. I'd say these guys wanted to get us out of town and alone so they can search the boat, make us talk, whatever."

  "Makes sense," Liz agreed. "Two of them, you think?"

  "Probably. One on the bow and one in the cockpit when they dropped the mooring. If there were more, they wouldn't have needed to tie the door shut."

  "That means they won't try to deal with us while we're underway, most likely," Liz said.

  "Right," Dani agreed. "I'd get off the beaten path if it were me. Like well out to the southeast of the Saintes, away from all the other islands, and then drift."

  "Think our guest is still asleep?" Liz asked.

  "Yes. She was exhausted and they've been really quiet. They probably think we're all asleep, now that you mention it."

  "What do you suppose they plan to do once they have the diamonds? Scuttle us?"

  "Probably. That's what I'd do. They've probably got a pickup arranged, unless…," Dani paused, thinking. "No, it's probably a pickup. I was thinking they might be towing a boat, but I think we'd feel that. I don't even feel the dinghy, now that I think about it."

  She was quiet for a moment, her senses attuned to the nuances of Vengeance's motion. "Bastards. If they've lost our dinghy, I'll kill 'em," Dani said through clenched teeth.

  Liz stifled a laugh. "You can't fool me; you'll kill them anyway."

  "Maybe just a little bit. We need one of them alive long enough to answer a few questions. Let's think about that until they come for us."

  Chapter 30

  Davey was at Vengeance's helm, conning her through the sloppy seas that reflected from the north shore of the island of Terre de Haut, where Bourg des Saintes was located. As he rounded Pointe Morel, the northernmost tip of the island, he gradually brought the vessel's heading around to the southeast.

  Pietro was below deck, searching all the nooks and crannies of the boat. He didn't expect to find the diamonds, but he knew that knowledge was a big advantage when it came to effective interrogation. He had no doubt that they could terrorize the three women in no time, but without some background, it would be hard to evaluate what the women said under duress.

  So far, he had gone through the ship's papers which he found in the locker below chart table in the nav station. From the Antiguan clearance forms, he learned that Danielle Berger was the captain. Liesbet Chirac was listed as the mate. The passenger, of course, was Maria Velasquez. He set her passport aside and studied the other two. Velasquez's dark beauty set her apart, but Berger and Chirac looked enough alike to be sisters.

  Once they were far enough to the southeast to have some privacy, he would stop the yacht and let the women out of their cabins. He intended to separate Berger and Chirac; they were likely to make a good team, and he wanted them demoralized. He would start by questioning Berger; as the captain, she was likely to have the most immediately useful information.

  Davey could amuse himself with the other two while he worked on Berger. By the time he had broken her, he reasoned that Chirac and Velasquez would be softened up. He would trade Berger for Chirac; Davey could have a bit of a change, and the longer he left Velasquez, the more readily she would talk. Mr. Rolle and Mr. Alfieri thought that she was the one who could disclose information about who was behind the theft of the diamond shipment, so he wanted her completely at her wits' end before he questioned her.

  Certain that he could distinguish Berger from Chirac, he put the passports back in their place and continued his methodical search, looking now for weapons as well as anything that seemed unusual for a luxury sailing yacht. He had no doubt that the women would give up the diamonds, but who knew what else he might find? He would search the two occupied cabins after they finished with the women, while he and Davey waited for Rolle's Kate to arrive.

  As he was finishing his search, he heard Davey throttle the diesel back. He scrambled up the companionway ladder into the cockpit and scanned the horizon. The sun was almost up, and they were far enough from the nearest land that he couldn't make out any detail along the shoreline.

  He knew from experience that Vengeance, with no sails up, would be practically invisible to anyone ashore, and it was too early for other yachts to be about. Fishermen wouldn't come out this way, so they should have all the privacy they needed to question the women without interruption.

  "Okay?" Davey asked, eyebrows raised.

  "Yes," Pietro said.

  Davey shut down the engine, and they s
tood for a moment, waiting to see how the yacht would behave in the relatively calm seas with no way on.

  Satisfied that they weren't going to drift back to the Saintes too quickly, Pietro nodded his head.

  "Here's the plan," Pietro said, as he pulled a small semiautomatic pistol from his waistband. "You'll untie the door to the forward cabin where the two blondes are. I'll cover you with the pistol, just to keep them quiet. You'll take the one called Chirac first. Take her to the aft cabin, where Velasquez is. Okay?"

  Davey licked his lips, and gave a jerky nod, a gleam in his eyes as he unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his shorts and underwear. He whipped his T-shirt over his head.

  Pietro snickered as he studied Davey in the rapidly growing light. "That should scare the information out of them. I trust you can keep both of them entertained while I get acquainted with Ms. Berger."

  Davey grinned as he moved toward the companionway. Pietro followed him below deck, his pistol at the ready. Davey raced to the door to the forward cabin and began untying the lashing as Pietro stood behind him and to his right, affording himself a clear shot through the opening. Before Davey finished, Pietro fired a single shot into the heavy teak bulkhead beside the door to set the tone for the encounter.

  In a loud enough voice to overcome the ringing in his ears, he said, "When the door opens, Ms. Chirac is to come into the saloon with her hands on top of her head. Ms. Berger, you will be seated on one of the berths in plain view, also with your hands on your head. If I see anything different when the door opens, I will shoot both of you in your knees. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," came a quavering reply, followed by a sob.

  "Open it," Pietro said.

  Davey complied, pushing the door back until it snapped into a spring-loaded clip that held it in an open position. Liz stepped forward tentatively, her eyes rolling with fear. Davey grabbed her right wrist and twisted her arm behind her back. He pulled her roughly past him and began pushing her toward the back of the boat.

  Dani sat on the berth facing Pietro, hands on her head, her face flushed and her jaws clenched. He studied her for a moment, letting his eyes roam over her body, periodically returning his gaze to her eyes. She wouldn't hold his gaze; he didn't expect that she would.