Maltese Steel

by Stuart Field

  ‘We knew him as Clive Denton,’ Samara explained. ‘But now, he works for the CIA, where he goes by the name James Calver.’ She spoke with a hint of surprise. ‘He’s good, but he is also – how do you say – as slippery as a fish?’

  Steel smiled at her attempt at the phrase. But it also made him wonder. How the background checks not come up with anything? John Steel picked up his cell phone and sent a quick text to London.

  Run Background check on one Clive Denton a.k.a. James Calver.

  Steel put down the phone then Samara had told him about what had happened and why the Denton had been expelled from Mossad and the country.

  They had talked for a while, drank wine then, made love again. He had gone to the couch, telling her it was best as he wasn’t a sound sleeper. As he had settled himself on the couch, he had also seen her stuff something under the pillow. He did not see exactly what, but he guessed it was her gun.

  The couch had been comfortable enough, but then he’d learnt to sleep anywhere. If you can sleep in a C-130 transport, you can pretty much sleep anywhere, he thought to himself with a smile. Besides, Steel knew he was going to wake up early, he always did. It wasn’t insomnia, more the fact he could function quite well, even after a couple of hours sleep. It wasn’t a thing he had learned in the army – it was his nature. It was something he had always done, even as a child. The guy’s in his squad loved him because they could get more shut-eye – not that that ever happened because they never got time to rest that much.

  It was always one dumbass mission after the next. The more successful they became, the more chance his team got picked for the next mission. But, that was the army way, if you were terrible at something, you did it and kept doing it until you got it right. If you were excellent at something, you always got picked.

  So, Steel liked being the grey man, the guy who no one noticed. But he got to be very good at that.

  But someone had noticed.

  Steel had put Kane in with Stan – not that Stan would mind, but Steel felt a little sorry for Kane. Not knowing how long they would be on the island for, Steel made a mental note to reserve another two rooms later in the day if necessary.

  It could be hours – or it could be days. There was no way of knowing.

  Steel still could not believe she had come all that way to warn him about a former fixer. A phone call would have been enough, but he felt there was more to it than what she was telling him.

  However, this was the last thing on his mind. This fixer wasn’t a problem at that moment, and if it had anything to do with the embassy, it wasn’t his problem, he was there for one reason. To find out what happened to Lucy.

  He had a job to do. Unfortunately, the investigation up to this point had been fraught with distractions he did not need, and one he really was glad about. But Steel was doing this investigation, not for Foster, not even for himself – but for Lucy. If it was foul play, Steel wanted to know.

  Steel slipped out quietly, letting the door click behind him. He thought they’d all have breakfast around seven o’clock before they set off to the crime scene. This Azure Window held the answers, and he would find them. Even if meant ripping the island apart to find them.

  Steel gazed up at the sky. It was still a dark blue, with no signs of the dawn. The shimmering stars were bright, and the moon had lost its red shroud, leaving it massive and glowed intensely. Steel looked at the streets bathed in shadow, the crisp breeze carrying down from the other street. Steel began to think.

  He closed his eyes.

  Suddenly he knew what he had to do, but someone wasn’t going to be happy about it.

  Stan lay as if he had been thrown onto the bed from a great height. His arms and legs looked contorted; his head lay at an angle. His mouth wide open, with a pool of fresh drool stretching from it.

  Suddenly he opened one eye.

  His dreams of supermodels and him sat on a yacht in Msida Marina faded as he had a feeling; a feeling he wasn’t alone. Stan searched the blackness with one eye open. He dared not move. Stan’s visions of models soon became a big angry thief with a lust to shut up witnesses.

  Stan thought about sliding onto the floor and leopard crawling to the door. He had no weapons and had no desire for conflict; knowing he would come off worse. Stan began to move; thinking his movements were stealthy and unnoticed.

  That was until Stan miss judged the fall to the floor and landed with a sickening thud.

  ‘Stan, what the bloody hell are you doing man?’ said Steel, trying to contain himself from laughing. Steel reached over from his seated position and turned on the small lamp on the desk. Stan just lay for a moment, both angry and confused.

  ‘What are you doing in my room…wait?’ Stan said, looking around quickly. ‘How did you get in my room?’ Stan said, as he stood up and brushed himself off.

  ‘You took your phone off the hook and refused to answer your early morning call. Get dressed – we’re late,’ Steel said, standing up and heading for the door. Stan looked at his watch and grumbled at the hour.

  ‘It’s not even five in the morning, why are we going so early?’ Stan said.

  ‘I want to see Azure Window in the dark,’ Steel said, with a severe look. ‘You got five minutes, or… you can head back to Malta?’

  Steel had everything planned out.

  Places – timings.

  Steel was on the job and in the zone. From this point, everything had to go as he planned. And he would do it with or without Stan.

  Stan stood up and held his head and smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. The fury texture was unpleasant, to say the least. There was a sudden, a loud grunt, followed by a loud throaty snore. Stan turned to see a man on his couch.

  ‘Who the bloody hell is this, how did he get in my room,’ Stan bellowed.

  ‘Be quiet,’ Steel whispered, clamping a hand over Stan’s mouth until he shut up. ‘He and Samara came in last night, they are here to help.’ Stan went to say something, but Steel forced his hand down over Stan’s mouth once again. ‘just get your arse downstairs, I’m leaving in five minutes, and don’t wake him up,’ Steel said and closed the door behind him. Stan stared at the door and the man on the couch.

  ‘Well, this is bloody great.’

  It took Stan all of ten minutes to get downstairs; he found Steel waiting with two coffees that Steel had gotten from a local bakery. Stan smiled awkwardly and took a cup from Steel.

  ‘So, where am I driving you to?’ Stan said, blowing on the fresh brew to cool it down slightly.

  ‘You’re not driving, not in that state anyway,’ Steel said, watching Stan rock from side-to-side.

  ‘Hey, only I drive my cab,’ Stan argued, then burped loudly.

  ‘Good, that means I didn’t rent this in vain then.’ Steel walked out with Stan in close pursuit. Parked on the road was a brand new BMW four-by-four. The black paint and tinted windows sparkled under the street lights. Stan’s mouth fell open in excitement.

  ‘You rented a brand new BMW X6?’ Stan said, then stopped suddenly and looked at his watch. ‘when did you rent this? Nothin is open?’ Stan said puzzled.

  ‘I have contacts, they dropped it off early this morning while you were still snoring,’ Steel exclaimed.

  ‘Nice of them to led you this mota,’ Stan grinned, thinking about the soft leather of the seats.

  ‘No,’ Steel said, shaking his head. ‘we need something that blends in,’ Steel said. He glared at Stan as if he was an idiot. ‘I got this.’ Steel smiled wickedly and walked over to an old Army 110 Land Rover and got in. Stan’s mouth remained open, this time in horror. The extended wheel-based version with back seats went along the sides rather than straight across, the safari version. It was military green, and someone had tinted the back windows. A long black plastic exhaust snorkel snaked from the engine compartment, making river crossings less troublesome. It was a massive beast of a vehicle, with thick off-road tyres.

  ‘Where did you find this? A museum?
’ Stan cried out with disappointment. Looking over the dents and touched-up paintwork. Steel just smiled and started the engine.

  ‘No, I’d made some calls while you were sleeping, they do…shall we say last-minute deliveries, and, we need to blend in. Besides, when this gets trashed, it won’t hurt as much,’ Steel said.

  Stan thought about it, then gave a quick nod of understanding, sat on the passenger seat.

  ‘Wait! What do you mean when it gets trashed?’ but Stan’s were drowned out by the roar of the engine as Steel pressed hard on the gas.

  The roads were dark and lonely. Steel was almost sad; he could not see the landscape around him. There was a single road heading towards San Lawrenz. Either side was fields of blackness through which wound the Triq l-Ghab road. The 110 Defender lights were like candles in a jam jar compared to a modern car, but they did well enough.

  The ride was rough due to solid shocks and lack of power steering, but Steel was in his element. He knew he could have had any vehicle, but this was more nostalgic. In his years with the British Army, he’d experienced rides in many vehicles. Most of the time they had cut down Land Rover Defenders equipped with a Browning heavy machine guns, and MiniMi light machine guns.

  Steel powered down the twisting road towards San Lawrenz. The tires are gripping the used roads as he cornered the hairpins. Steel could feel the exhilaration of the night drive – the thrill of not knowing what either side of him, or how the darkened road traversed before him.

  It took an hour to reach the last small town before the road turned left and travelled south towards the coast. The sun hadn’t broken the horizon, but the sky was getting lighter. The dark purple held streaks of blazing orange. Steel could now make out the road and the countryside around them.

  The trail began to incline, and the view grew more spectacular. The road swung west and Steel noticed to his left a massive limestone quarry, its cut sides made it look like an accident ruin.

  Stan did not pay it much heed. To Steel, it was beautiful but commonplace. He must have seen it a thousand times, and the novelty had worn off, but he had to admit, seeing it with dawn colours gave it a whole new beauty.

  As the sun rose, it draped everything with a living orange; making the landscape appear on fire. They drove down a track to a car park; large enough for coaches and buses to make their drop-offs.

  Steel parked the ageing vehicle next to a small church path that sat off to the parking area's side. To his right was the divers training area, which was a large pool of water called Inland Sea. The pool spilt out into the ocean via a tunnel the weather and ocean had carved out. Surrounding the pool was several buildings and jetties for small crafts for the drivers.

  The drop-off point's circular road held a central parking area for cars and a limestone building, the education centre and a restaurant. The car park was virtually empty but for a couple of vehicles that held people who had stayed over to see the sunset.

  Steel got out of the Land Rover and walked over to where the parking area finished, and the natural rock started. Steel was still dark enough to get the image he needed, but light enough to make out the loose ground. He looked over the Mediterranean sea, the waves crashed angrily. The surrounding area before the ocean looked like the landscape of another world. Steel had to admit in this light it had a savage beauty about it.

  Stan joined him as they watched the sun break the horizon. Steel looked over to a high craggy cliff face.

  ‘So, this is the Azure Window?’ Steel said, looking over the impressive view.

  ‘Yes…I mean, no. That is, well, that was,’ Stan said, pointing to the cliff face.

  Steel gazed over at the twenty-eight-meter wonder and gasped. ‘How do we get up there?’ Steel said, searching for a path.

  ‘Follow me,’ Stan said, sucking in a breath.

  Steel followed the cabbie up towards a small church; The kappella Sant’ Anna. It was a small smooth-sided building with very few windows from what he could see. The entrance was a single heavy wooden door, with Venetian-style stone handrails either side of the steps.

  There was a small bell tower above the entrance. It reminded Steel of the churches he had seen in the old spaghetti westerns.

  To the church's right were sets of old steps, little more than pieces of long stone rammed into the earth, to the left flat open ground that led to another cliff face.

  ‘What’s over there?’ Steel asked.

  ‘The Blue Hole, divers, use it a lot,’ Stan said.

  Steel nodded. He noted its position and followed Stan, who was heading for the church's right steps. The stone steps become sparser until they had disappeared entirely, leaving just a dusty path. Steel noticed all the way up from the church, there were arrows spray-painted on the ground, showing the direction up – possibly a safety feature for unknowing tourists. He started to notice signs tell the public there was no entry. Steel figure that the mass number of people venturing on top of the once-grand archway did not help much with its demise. Steel started to feel a saddened by the loss. He had spent so much time going around the world he had never really stopped to appreciate the landmarks, and there was one he had missed. He wasn’t sure whether he was getting old or sentimental, or both.

  Steel got halfway to the top of the hill and stopped.

  He was a fit guy, but the change of altitude and the rough terrain made him stop and look around.

  ‘What’s up?’ Stan said. He was breathing like a locomotive and resting his hands on his knees, welcoming the quick break.

  ‘Where’s the Blue Hole from here?’ Steel asked.

  ‘Over there,’ Stan pointed down, and across towards the ocean. At least twenty-feet from where they stood.

  Steel walked over to where Stan had indicated. It was an overhang that gave a perfect view of where the Azure Window had once been and the Blue Hole. Steel took out a small pocket camera and took several photos of the pool and the Azure Window's remains. Then, Steel headed back to the path and took more photographs. Stan lit up a cigarette and inhaled deeply, watching Steel as he took more pictures and made notes on his phone.

  Steel clicked an icon on his cell and opened up the crime scene photos he had saved to the device. Steel looked around and tried matching each picture with the place, always moving to see if there was one.

  Stan walked back to the parking lot and found a place to sit while Steel looked for what he needed.

  Steel looked at the Blue Hole picture where the report said Lucy’s body had been discovered and walked over to a large flat area that sat just above the pool. A safe place for tourists to take in the view. Steel looked down at the ocean-filled hole, took photos for himself, and then jotted observations in a notebook app on his cell.

  Steel walked back towards Stan; who was still smoking.

  ‘What’s up?’ Stan asked, noting Steel’s confused expression.

  Steel looked back at the view but said nothing. All Steel saw were puzzles, questions. He took out his phone again and searched for the film Lucy had made. Steel handed the phone to Stan, then pressed play.

  ‘Any idea where this is?’ Steel asked, knowing it was a long shot the half-drunk cabbie would be able to see anything, let alone recognise a view from a home movie. Stan brought the device closer and squinted at the image.

  ‘I am not sure, but it could be Hondoq Bay,’ Stan said shrugging.

  ‘Really… Hotdog Bay?’ Steel said, disbelievingly.

  ‘Not Hotdog – it’s Hondoq,’ Stan almost annoyed at Steel’s mispronunciation.

  ‘OK, sorry. So where is this Hondoq Bay, and what’s so special about it?’ Steel said.

  Stan thought for a moment; as if checking the route in his head, then looked up and smiled.

  ‘I don’t know what’s so important about it, but I do know where it is,’ Stan said excitedly. Stan stood up quickly and turned with enthusiasm, the passion that died when he saw the beat up, Land Rover.

  ‘OK, Stan, which way,’ Steel said. Grinning as
he walked past the disappointed cabbie.

  ‘We need to drive back to Victoria, I’ll tell you the way, and you can drop me off, I feel the need to stay drunk after riding in this tub,’ Stan said.

  Steel laughed and got in the driver’s seat. As Stan crawled in, Steel started the engine. The turbocharged engine gave a choking cough and a whir like a massive hairdryer, then the engine roared to life.

  ‘Oh good, there’s no aircon in here,’ Stan noted as he watched the sun come up and the sky became a light blue, he could already feel the heat warming his face.

  ‘Mr Steel?’

  ‘Yes, Stan.’

  ‘You ain’t paying me enough for this shit,’ Stan said, trying to get comfortable.

  Steel laughed and swung the car back onto the road and back up the way they came.

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Clive Denton – A.K.A – JamesCalver arrived at the embassy early, only to find an increased security level. At first, he thought it was to do with the new software, then he saw the emergency services spread out near where he and his colleagues usually parked. There was the usual guard checking identifications, along with two Marines in full tactical gear standing guard.

  ‘What happened?’ Calver asked as he handed over his plastic-covered ID.

  ‘Someone blew up Agent Foster’s car last night, the camp’s been on alert since late last night.’

  Calver checked his cell phone.

  No new messages.

  He blew out a sigh of relief. The last thing he needed was to find a missed call from the night before for him to come in.

  ‘Oh God, that’s…that’s terrible,’ Calver said, sounding like he meant it. In truth, Foster being dead would make Calver’s life less stressful, the guy was like a pit bull. With Foster gone, Calver could move about more freely. Calver could carry on without feeling Foster’s eyes permanently watching his every move. But then, he wouldn’t wish anyone dead, possibly hospitalised for a spell, but never dead.