Maltese Steel

by Stuart Field

  He still could not believe she had taken him down with a plank of wood. When he had told the story, he had made it out to have been a huge plank made from hardened timber. But his collogues – who loved to ridicule him, said they had seen this monstrous piece of wood, and it had been nothing more than a stick. And not only that but the big man had been beaten by a little girl.

  They pulled up close to the address the driver had been given and waited. They had been driving for some time. The driver was happy for the break, but continuously complained he was hungry – to the others' annoyance.

  Aamir pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the area while pressing the speed-dial on his phone. The electronic ring continued, giving Aamir an uneasy feeling.

  Then a soft voice answered.

  ‘Yes?’ the voice said. Aamir could sense the arrogance of the person on the other end, just by their tone.

  ‘Are you sure we are on schedule, you’re sure that they were able to do what you promised?’ Aamir asked.

  ‘Yes. It’s all taken care of, everything you asked is done. Now, just make sure you hold up your side,’ said the stern voice. Its tone was cold and rang with distaste. As if the person on the other end held Aamir and his group with contempt.

  Aamir snarled at the phone.

  How dare they speak to him like that? Had they no idea who he was? Who he represented?

  Aamir placed the phone back in his pocket. The person, on the other end, had left the call without another word. Almost as if they could not be bothered to speak to this great man.

  Aamir took another look through the binoculars. Checking the lay of the land, checking for weaknesses in the surrounding area. He knew that it would be easy if he wanted to get in, not covert, but manageable.

  But then stealthy wasn’t part of the plan.

  ‘OK, let’s go. There is nothing we can do here…not yet anyway,’ Aamir said, giving the driver the next location to go too. As they sped past, Aamir took note of the sign on the side of the road. It was engraved on a long block of stone.

  The Embassy of the United States of America.

  Chapter Fifty

  Steel watched as Foster sparked up a cigarette. Foster did not bother offering Steel one, he knew Steel’s feelings on smoking. Steel sat under the shade of the pool house while Foster paced about, nervously.

  Steel said nothing.

  He just left his old friend to gather his words. Whatever was going on had him hopping like a cat on hot bricks.

  ‘We have a program going online on Friday, one that will change the way we control the movement of terrorists and criminals. It is a full proof system that will enable us to catch a terrorist on our database anywhere. If they fly, sail, take a train, wherever there is a camera we will find them,’ Foster started.

  Steel sat in silence, letting Foster unburden himself.

  ‘This is a unique software will do damage to every group we know, their freedom of movement will cease to exist.’

  ‘But…?’ Steel asked, forcing Foster to cut the chit chat.

  ‘I believe someone is plotting to change the software. I don’t know how they’ll get to the program to do anything, but… I think – believe it’s a real threat,’ Foster said.

  ‘Change it – how?’ Steel asked. Not understanding how the whole system worked, he had never really taken much interest. He just knew that facial recognition existed.

  ‘Put a glitch in the system somehow, so it doesn’t pick something up, or not at all,’ Foster replied.

  ‘Is it a credible threat? Are they able to do it?’ Steel asked. Foster shrugged.

  ‘That’s the problem, it's locked away and guarded. There should be no way of getting to it.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘We hear a whisper, and we have to react to it. After 911, I've learnt nothing is impossible and all threats should be treated as possible.’

  Steel nodded as Foster took another draw from the cigarette. Steel watched the smoke twist rise from the tip of the cigarette, the red embers glow as Foster inhaled. The world was suddenly moving in slow motion. His trail of thought was slowing everything down, slotting pieces of data into specific places, like a child’s puzzle.

  Square block – square hole, round block – round hole… But the triangle was the problem because there was no triangle slot, there was only a square.

  ‘So, let me guess, ‘ Steel said. Anger oozed from his tone. This new bit of information placed another piece into the puzzle, which Foster should have told him days ago. ‘This group threatened you. You said no, they killed your daughter to show you they mean business, so… you called me to sort your problem out,’ Steel said.

  Foster’s jaw dropped at the accusation and flew at Steel with fists raised.

  ‘Sit your arse down Marcus,’ Steel barked abruptly, not even bothering to budge from his chair. Foster stopped, shocked at Steel’s order. Steel gazed at Foster, his mind placing all the information into order. Starting from Lucy’s death to Brad, then the attack at Foster’s place and now this information. All the while, Steel thought about what Samara had said, someone in the embassy was dirty. And the goons that had taken Samara and himself. There appeared to be many players in the game, but still, there was someone on the bench waiting to come out at the final inning to play. Steel looked over at Foster.

  ‘So… if they did not get to you – who did they get too?’ Steel asked. He watched as Foster fell into a seat next to him.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Foster said, shaking his head. ‘I just heard a whisper from a confidential informant, and yes, I still have CIs,’ Foster smiled smugly. ‘The chatter is a group from Tunisia is trying to get over here for something. What, I don’t know. I thought it might be the EU conference next week, but my gut says it something bigger.’

  Steel nodded. Taking in the information that Foster was giving him.

  ‘So, why keep this from me, it may have aided my investigation?’ Steel said.

  Foster shook his head, ‘No, this is something else, I didn’t want you to follow false leads and forget what you are here for, it’s my job to sort out this business, you’re here…’

  ‘To find out what happened to your daughter, yes, I know… but what if the two are related, which I bet they are?’ Steel asked.

  Foster smiled and shrugged. He had calmed down from his sudden and somewhat overreaction towards Steel’s accusation. He took another draw from the almost finished cigarette.

  ‘Then I guess we’ll be working together again,’ Foster grinned at the prospect.

  ‘I’m off to see the coroner in Victoria today’ Steel said. ‘See what he can tell me about what happened.’ Foster nodded.

  Foster felt guilty he hadn’t been back over to the island since the police had called him that fateful morning. Foster had identified Lucy’s body so his wife wouldn’t have to. He wanted to at least save Martha that pain. If she was to see Lucy, it would be at the funeral – not like that. Foster remembered what Lucy had looked like laid out on the rocks at the blue pool. The image of her broken body still blazed in his mind every time he closed his eyes, an image he wanted to spare the only two women left in his life.

  ‘Find who did this to my little girl, Steel. You make them pay… every last one of them,’ Foster said.

  Steel said nothing. He nodded, then watched Foster disappear into the secured building. Steel sat and pondered over what Foster had said. He’d known Foster was keeping something more from him, he just hadn’t known why.

  Now he knew.

  However, Foster was right about one thing. Steel could not get sidetracked thinking this software had anything to do with it. Steel was there to find Lucy’s killer – simple.

  Nothing more.

  Steel was sure Foster had the IT issue in hand. But Steel had the feeling they were connected somehow. All he had to do was wait. If they were connected, he had a feeling he would find out soon enough. In the meantime, he had Lucy’s death to investigate.

  Steel loo
ked at his watch; half-past three. He would catch the next ferry over and stay the night if he had to. Either way, he was going to Gozo. He needed to see the crime scene, in the day and in the dark, that way, he could get a feel for what may or may not have happened. He had learnt that sometimes you had to ‘walk in their shoes’.

  ‘See what they would have seen, combat the problems that they would have had to combat,’ the friend had told him. And they had been right. Sometimes you had to think either as the killer or the victim – or both. No crime scene is perfect. There is always something that the killer never thought about, usually the slightest thing, that did not become apparent until it was time.

  All he had to do, was find that square peg – or that triangular hole.

  Steel pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed-dial number.

  ‘Stan,’ Steel said with a broad grin when the cabbie answered. ‘Question, how well do you know Gozo?

  As Steel headed back to the gatehouse, Alison Price sauntered over to Foster.

  ‘Who’s your friend?’ Price asked. Her eyes fixed on Steel’s form.

  ‘Just an old army buddy, he was Lucy’s Godfather,’ Foster said.

  Price did not say anything at first. She just sized up the big man dressed in black before he disappeared from view.

  ‘Yes, we’re all sorry for your loss Foster, truly,’ Price said. Her eyes were warm and compassionate. The sun reflected in her eyes and the lipstick, giving both a watery sheen.

  ‘Thank you. That means a lot,’ Foster said.

  ‘I’m sure if you need time away, we could…’

  Foster shook his head. ‘Thanks, but the work keeps me going,’ Foster said. He smiled before looking away – the sound of a plane high above distracted him for a moment. ‘I’m all alone now, Martha and Abby have gone to her mom’s. It’s better that way for a bit,’ Foster said.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It probably is for the best.’ She smiled gently.

  Section Chief Bolton leant against the wall of the blockhouse. He had seen Foster talking with the big man, and now he was talking with Alison Price. He sipped his coffee. Taking his time, observing, taking everything in. He looked at his watch. He would have to leave his perch pretty soon, he had a call to make.

  Bolton knew who John Steel was and why he was there.

  He also knew of Steel’s reputation with New York cops – but he did not know if he should be worried or not.

  Bolton took another sip from the ceramic mug, the coffee was strong. As he watched Foster and Price talk, he felt someone come up behind him – it was Tipp.

  ‘What ya doin?’ Tipp asked.

  ‘Watchin’ Foster and Price. He was talking to his friend before,’ Bolton said.

  ‘What, he’s old buddy from the service?’ Tipp’s voice rang with amazement.

  ‘Yeah. The cop,’ Bolton said.

  ‘I didn’t know he was a cop,’ Tipp said.

  ‘And you call yourself an agent?’ Bolton smiled.

  ‘No – I’m a section chief who don’t give a crap about Foster’s old army buddies because I have more important things to worry about,’ Tipp barked sarcastically.

  ‘What – like crawlin’ up Sloan’s ass you mean?’ Bolton smirked. ‘Nah, I think you got that covered,’ Bolton said as he walked away. Leaving Tipp to gaze over at Foster and Price.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  The phone in the secure office rang. Alpha, as always picked it up on the third ring.

  ‘Yes,’ he said.

  ‘The cop went to see Foster,’ said Beta.

  ‘I know,’ said Alpha.

  ‘The cop is on his way to Gozo, I think he’s going to Victoria to see the body of the girl,’ said Beta.

  ‘It was to be expected,’ said Alpha. ‘Keep tabs on him, make sure he is only going in that direction, we don’t need him messing up any plans.’

  ‘We have someone on it,’ Beta said.

  ‘What, like at the Manoel island – yeah, that ended well,’ said Alpha. ‘stop underestimating this guy, he needs to keep on the investigating the Foster woman’s death, not us.’

  ‘It was a mistake – I know. People have been told,’ said Beta.

  ‘Good, no more fuck ups,’ said Alpha.

  ‘And Foster?’

  ‘Kill him.’ Alpha said coldly.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  It was late afternoon when Stan had got to the ferry port at Cirkewwa. For Steel, the drive had been exciting, to say the least – if not slightly terrifying. Stan had proven himself to be a complete lunatic behind the wheel once more; causing angry drivers to beep their horns or shout abuse. But the old London cabbie seemed to enjoy it.

  The ferry was due to depart at quarter past. Leaving them plenty of time to get the taxi aboard and grab a seat near the onboard kiosk. Stan had found a small shop on board and had taken off to top up on magazines and snacks. Steel grabbed a coffee, a bottle of water and a sandwich from the kiosk, thinking he would need them later.

  The twenty-five-minute crossing was calm and uneventful. The ferry was full of tourists, unhappy babies, and locals. There were monitors dotted around the sitting area showing a documentary on the islands and their wildlife. Steel watched with interest, even though he could not hear the narrator over the crowd's noise. Steel thought of Lucy and her work, trying to save the creatures living in, and around the islands.

  Stan returned from his shopping trip, laden with bags in both hands.

  ‘Sure you left anything for the others?’ Steel asked with a grin.

  Stan scoffed and sat down in the empty seat Steel had saved for him. Stan grabbed at the pile of sugar and milk sachets and took two of each and poured them into his coffee. After a vigorous stir, Stan lifted the paper cup and blew on the drink, cooling it down before taking a sip.

  ‘So where are we going to on Gozo?’ Stan asked.

  ‘The morgue in Victoria, it’s at—’

  ‘The hospital, yeah, I know where it is,’ Stan interrupted. ‘Might not be open when we get there, may have to stay over,’ Stan said.

  Steel smiled. He had already found a suitable place on the internet and arranged for rooms at a local hotel.

  ‘Sure your boss is OK with you driving me, staying overnight?’ Steel asked curiously.

  ‘I told him you were paying me well for it, he just sees a profit at the end of the day,’ Stan said with a curious smile. Steel nodded and took a sip from his coffee. He was glad of Stan’s company and local knowledge.

  Steel looked around at the people in the seating area, then turned his gaze out of the full-plated windows.

  They were coming up on Gozo.

  He had a beautiful, seductive view of craggy cliff faces and naturally bored caves along with secluded beaches. The waves crashed against the rocky surface of the cliff faces, and Steel began to wonder about Lucy and that fateful night. There was a roar from the ferries engine as it began to turn, moving with the current and heading for the harbour.

  ‘So, what’s first, the morgue?’ Stan asked with a mouthful of a sandwich he had started. Steel’s eyes locked on the island, which was now on their left, and nodded. The ship turned to follow its course.

  In the distance, Steel watched as more craggy rock formations came into view.

  Stan pointed to a cliff face to the left of them. ‘Somewhere past them cliffs is San Lorenz. Technically, the other side of the bloody island,’ Stan laughed with a mouth full of food. ‘That’s where Azure Window used to be, until we had a massive storm, knocked the bloody thing into the water, the rest of it is still there, underwater of course. Bloody shame, people used to flock to see that,’ Stan said, then took another bite from his sandwich.

  ‘Is it hard to get too?’ Steel asked. His gaze still fixed on the point and that strange face like feature.

  ‘Nah, pretty easy. More winding roads and stuff, but easy enough. Aye, and a bloody good coffee shop there as well.’ Stan took a sip from his coffee.

  ‘Good, that’s wh
ere we’re going tomorrow, so get some rest at the hotel,’ Steel’s gaze still fixed on the impressive sight. ‘You can drop me at the morgue. I’ve got some things to do there; meantime you can sort out things with the hotel.’

  Stan nodded eagerly, the thought of spending time with cut up dead people turned his stomach.

  ‘No arguments from me, boss,’ Stan mumbled with a mouthful of sandwich.

  Steel sipped his cooling coffee. His mind was processing a thousand thoughts, slotting those pegs back into their holes. He was still missing a peg and a hole. But only one thought stood out from the rest.

  What was Lucy doing at that secluded place late at night?

  The ferry docked at the small Mgarr harbour, which was full of small boats and water taxis. There were bars and restaurants on the front. The main road reached up to the right, and stretching with it were more bars, a petrol station, an ATM, and eventually overlooking the harbour, the local homes. Steel noticed on a hill was a magnificent looking church. A towering structure that seemed to glow with the reflection of the sun. Steel had to admit it was a quaint village and had enough to entertain someone until the next ferry arrived. Even if it was sitting at a bar watching the boats and the sea birds.

  Stan drove off the ferry with his usual finesse and onto the winding road towards Victoria's city. The road was a steady upward climb; allowing for a fantastic view of the coastal town on the right and the majestic church on the hilltop to the left – The Church of the Madonna of Lourdes.

  Stan’s minibus almost sounded in pain as it climbed the steep road. Steel gave Stan an anxious look, wondering if any moment the engine would explode. But Stan just sang along to the music from his stereo, as if nothing was wrong.

  The trip to the capital city was long or felt that way after the sixth rendition of Waterloo. Steel was thankful he did not have a gun by the time they reached the hospital. Between Stan’s lousy singing and the lack of effective shock absorbers, Steel was ready to kill something.