They were parallel with each other and I saw their hand briefly brush together. I wondered if they would be able to contain their feelings now they were in a completely secluded place. There were no prying eyes. No Tintin, no Carlos, only a couple of dumb tourists brought along as tokens for their game of deception. A few times, I heard the engine of the boat above us start as it caught up to where the buoy was floating. The deck hand was doing a good job of staying near his precious cargo underwater. Obviously the current on the surface was very different to the one we were riding underwater. All around us the incredible cycle of life continued as it had done for thousands, if not millions of years. The reef was truly untouched and unspoilt and for a while my mind was taken off the shocking events of the day and the burden of my knowledge of the danger Richard was in. I glanced ahead again at Richard and Angelique. Their feelings had now gotten the better of them and they floated, hand in hand as they glided across the stunning vista below. As far as they were concerned there was absolutely no danger of being caught here. It was a clever plan of Richard's to invite me firstly to the party as a distraction and secondly myself and the Dutch girls on this day excursion. Perhaps he thought it gave him credibility in the eyes of the powers that be. But it gave me a bad feeling. I knew Richard was no fool but his love of Angelique was clouding his judgement. Those people, Tintin and Carlos were no fools either. No man acquires that much wealth by being a fool. But then how was Richard acquiring his wealth? Even underwater and surrounded by the beauty of the reef, I was still obsessing over the job. To a certain extent it had taken over my life. Completely sucked me in and caused me to act in a most unprofessional way. I would remedy that that evening and would find out what I needed to know for sure. You just enjoy your dive, Green. You enjoy the coral and the swaying breasts of the Dutch girls above and you will satisfy your curiosity later. Eventually I noticed Angelique grabbing Richard's oxygen gauge. She made some signs informing him that he was running low and looked back at me as if to ask how I was doing for air. Obviously Richard’s initial struggling against the current had caused him to breathe a lot more than I had, as I had plenty left. She made a motion that it was time to surface. We all agreed by giving the ‘ok’ sign and slowly swam to the surface. The two Dutch girls were still above, still topless. Breaking the surface was like being suddenly tossed into the real world again. Gone was the cool cocoon of the ocean with all its wondrous colours and creatures and we were all back in the glaring sunshine. Sea gulls squawked overhead and the water slapped against the hull of the boat thirty metres away. “That was amazing!” said Ineke as she removed the mask and snorkel.
“I have never seen anything like it!” said Helen, treading water, her mask in hand.
“Yes,” said Angelique, “it's a pity that Richard had run out of air, we might have had a bit longer, but it was a great dive.” The deck hand fired the motor and slowly drove the boat towards us. The two Dutch girls were the first to board using the chrome ladder to the rear of the boat. They immediately donned their bikini tops much to the relief of the embarrassed-looking deck hand who tried by all means to avert his eyes. Next was Angelique followed by Richard and myself. The deck hand removed our scuba bottles as we boarded. Once we were all on deck there was an air of exhilaration amongst the party.
“Well, thank you very much Angelique,” said Richard diplomatically as he wiped his face with a towel, “I think everyone was impressed. Such an amazing reef to dive!”
“Yes” she replied, as she pulled her summer dress over her bikini, “like I said, the best in Zanzibar.” The sun was slowly starting to descend in the sky but still packed a punch. The sea breeze helped as it evaporated the water from my skin and cooled me down a bit. The four of us sat down on the lower deck and chatted about the dive for a few minutes until Richard suggested we drink a beer. This was met with approval by all and he set about cracking open some ice cold Safaris from the cooler box. We sat, seven miles out to sea, the boat gently swaying in the swell, while the conversation flowed. Although I tried to keep a cheerful disposition, I suspect that Helen realised that there was something troubling me. She kept glancing over at me with a concerned look in her eyes. I nodded slowly at her and gave her a half smile to reassure her. But her instincts were right. I had seen and done too much in the previous few days to cover my feelings fully. I felt my role had changed from being an observer to being a protector. It was a role I didn’t want or need. It was supposed to be a fucking job, clean and simple. Instead I had been sucked into a bizarre scenario that I had little control over.
My plan of having a quiet word in Richard's ear had been blown out of the window for the moment. Still, I had my plan for the evening and I hoped it would answer a few questions. If not, I hoped I would eventually have a chance to talk some sense into Richard. Dear Richard, dear naive, stupid, wealthy Richard. The happy chatter on board continued for half an hour as the sun slowly descended towards the steamy green land mass that was Zanzibar. It was then that I noticed a wistful look come over Angelique. Her smiles and laughter disappeared and I saw the sadness return to her eyes as she stared out towards the coast. “I wish we could stay out here all day and night,” she said softly.
“Well why don't we?” Richard said loudly to much laughter from the Dutch girls, “we could have a party!”
“I wish we could,” she said with a sad smile, “unfortunately I have to get back.” I thought I could cut the tension with a knife. It was then that I realised that it was only me who knew anything about what was actually going on. I quickly put myself in my assumed role and moved to sit nearer Helen. This pleased her no end and she duly shuffled closer to me on the seat. As we finished our beers, Angelique stood up and said something in perfect Swahili to the deck hand who had been silently sitting on the top deck. Suddenly there was movement as he prepared the boat to leave our idyllic ocean spot. “Ok my friends,” said Angelique, “I go upstairs to drive us back to Paje.”
“I'll join you,” said Richard standing as well, “you folks ok?”
“Fine thanks, Rich,” I said watching him. The two of them climbed the ladder to the wheel deck as I opened another three beers for the Dutch girls and I. The engines were fired up and we were on our way back. The deck hand came down and busied himself quietly packing away the scuba equipment. I noticed we were travelling a lot slower than we had done on the way out. I stood up to have a look at the top deck. Richard and Angelique stood alone, their backs to me, deep in conversation. Their arms were around each other’s waists. Although I couldn't hear what they were saying I could see that Richard appeared to be pleading with her. She looked ahead and then at him, shaking her head occasionally. I knew she was taking the boat back slowly in an effort to spend as much time as she possibly could with him. It was a sad sight and I felt for them. I decided to leave them to their conversation. I hoped that she would have the good sense to speed up as we got closer to the beach and revert to normal behaviour. This was something that Tintin certainly did not need to see. I sat down again with the Dutch girls who were thoroughly enjoying themselves by now. The sun was slowly setting and there was a cool breeze coming in from the ocean. “we have had such a wonderful day Jason, thank you” said Helen with a glint in her eye.
“Well it was Richard who arranged it all, girls, but yes, it was excellent. I'm glad you enjoyed it.” About a mile before the reef, the motors revved up and the boat picked up speed. I looked out to my left and once again saw the big house of Carlos da Costa in the distance. Its fortress-like wall imposing and jutting out of the beach and the jungle like a prison. It was a prison. It was a prison for Angelique. I wondered if she knew the penalties for breaking the rules of the prison.
The dead waiter certainly hadn't bargained on his punishment being so brutal. Lying there covered in blood and flies and shit. His right hand chopped off and gone. Fucking hell. What kind of gangsters were they? I was going to find out. Obviously Richard had realised the importance of the excursion appearing inn
ocent and he climbed down the ladder to be with us as we passed the reef and entered the calm waters beyond. From there, Angelique skilfully piloted the boat until we heard the sand scrape beneath us and we were back on land in front of the water-sports centre.
The crew of workers were waiting for us and they spun the boat around to allow us to disembark into the shallow water near the hard sand. I allowed the Dutch girls to climb off first, followed by Richard and then myself. I glanced up the beach towards the thatch building and saw the ominous sight of Tintin. He was standing now, his great black arms folded in boredom. A piece of straw still jutted from his mouth and he stared unwaveringly at us from behind his dark glasses.
The Hummer was parked just as it had been. He had been waiting there all along. I wondered what was going on in his mind. Did he suspect anything or was I just being paranoid? I hoped dearly for the latter. We all stood in a group on the beach and waited for Angelique. She fiddled with the sat-nav and flicked a few switches before sliding down the ladder and jumping off the back of the boat to join us.
“Well my friends, thank you for a wonderful afternoon once again!” She said gaily. There was a chorus of thanks from the three of us. She stepped towards me and kissed me lightly on each cheek and then did the same for Richard. Good thinking Angelique, I thought. Kiss me first to keep Tintin from thinking too much. Then she did the same for the Dutch girls who couldn't stop thanking everyone from the staff to the deck hand. “I must go now” she said calmly, “goodbye!” She started off up the beach. The two Dutch girls were busy talking and I noticed Richard staring at Angelique as she walked up the sand. “So Rich,” I said, desperately trying to snap him out of his lovesick daze, “what are you doing now?” He turned to me suddenly. “Oh, umm,” he said, “I'm not sure, shall we go for a beer somewhere?”
“We can do,” I said, “but I have a lot of work to catch up on tonight so I can't have too many.”
Chapter Fourteen - A Nocturnal Foray
Later that night I was finally alone in my room. The breeze of the fans was a relief as the night was hotter and more humid than it had been previously. I took a cold shower and walked back into the room with a towel around my waist. Although the events of the day were fresh in my mind, I felt a sense of relief that I was eventually going to take back some control and hopefully get some answers to the many questions I had to answer. There had been too much fooling around and too much uncertainty. I had to actually do my job. When the knock on the door came, I knew it wasn't Helen or Richard. I opened it to find a waiter standing there with my dinner on a tray. I signed for it, thanked him and took the tray inside. I had time to kill, so I browsed the internet and checked emails as I ate. There was nothing of great urgency to attend to so I spent the time catching up on news. When I had finished, I closed the curtains and emptied and sorted the contents of the bag from the trip to Stone Town on the bed. There was a fifteen metre length of heavy duty nylon rope. It was black in colour. It had been a job to find black rope but Hassan had been right, anything and everything was available at that market. Next there were three small tins of black shoe polish and brushes, and a small black rucksack. There was a black tracksuit top as well as a black woollen skull cap. The skull cap had the name of a popular rap artist woven into the front but I would turn that inside out when it came time to use it. Next there was a pair of trainers. I sat quietly as I brushed the thick black polish onto the shoes. The polish held well and instantly they became dark in colour. The next item from my shopping trip was a foot-long section of wooden pole. It was 3cm in diameter and was made from hard pine. I used the panga I had taken from the muggers on the beach to cut it in half. The blade was surprisingly sharp and cut through the wood easily. I was left with two equal length sections of wood and around the middle of each I carved a circular groove. Next I picked up a one-metre section of heavy duty fishing trace. It was similar to the trace we had used on the boat with Richard. It was made from thick but extremely flexible steel wire, and was covered with a smooth layer of plastic. I wound the end of the trace around the groove I had carved in one of the sections of wood. Then I twisted the wood at least ten times to give a tight immovable fit. Using my lighter I burned the twisted trace near the wood. The plastic melted immediately and the wire trace was fixed for good. I repeated the exercise with the other section of wood till finally I was left with what was a highly effective and silent killing machine. I had made a garrotte. It was a bit extreme but I was fully aware of the potential danger I would face later. These were dangerous men. Killers. I looked at myself in the mirror briefly when I had finished making it. Pray you don't have to use this Green, I thought grimly. I held a section of wood in each hand and pulled at the wire violently.
It made a twanging sound as the tension hit the wire but there was no way it would break. The wire was of at least 300kg breaking strain. Slowly and methodically I packed the black rucksack with my supplies. Then I went to my main travel bag and retrieved a pair of night vision goggles, my camera, and some tracking devices. The goggles were an expensive bit of kit I had only needed to use twice before during insurance jobs in London. I tested them quickly in the bathroom to make sure they were working. I tossed the kit into the rucksack along with a pair of black jeans. I did a quick mental checklist of the equipment and then buckled the rucksack closed. My plan was simple. I would walk out of the hotel dressed like any other tourist and take a slow walk up the beach in the moonlight. There would be no suspicious movements or behaviour. Nothing out of the ordinary. I would have a look at Richard's hotel and hopefully his room. Finally I would take a walk up the beach to the big house. I needed to get inside the property and have a good look around. My main worry was the armed guards, but I had extensive experience in such activities and I felt sure I could move around unseen and unheard.
I sat quietly on the bed and smoked a cigarette. All my feelings of guilt and fear for Richard and Angelique were gone. They were replaced by a low and constant buzz of adrenaline and excitement. The stakes were high and the danger was very real indeed, but I was ready. I crushed out the cigarette in the ashtray and looked at myself in the mirror once again. “Right Green,” I said quietly, “let's go.” I stood up and slung the small black rucksack over my shoulder. It was heavier than I had expected. I made my way out and locked the door. The old Masai security guard saw me from a distance and gave me a nod. I waved at him and made my way through the palms and down to the beach front. I would have used the pathway past the restaurant but I didn't want to run into any of the guests. Helen was already upset by my insisting that I needed time alone to work. I felt bad but there were far more important fish to fry that evening. I made it down to the hard sand of the beach unseen and turned right. The lights of the Paje beach resorts curved out to the left in the distance. There was not much of a breeze that night and beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I walked through the darkness. I passed the hotel bar unseen. There was light music playing but I couldn't make out if there was anyone there or not. The next door resort was quiet as well and all I heard was the soft repetitive crunching sound of the damp sand underfoot as I walked. I carried on at that pace until eventually I approached the water-sports centre. As expected it was closed and boarded up. I glanced up the sand track that led to the main tar road. I was half expecting to see the crouching figures of the muggers Richard and I had run into. But there was no one and the area was dark and quiet. Eventually I arrived in front of Richard's hotel, the Eden Beach Lodge.
The beach in front was all quiet but there was a fair amount of activity in the main grounds. I paused in the relative darkness near the ocean and gauged the scene. There were a few lights on in the rooms that stretched out on either side of the main hotel building but Richard's room was dark. I wondered if he was eating dinner or perhaps having a drink in one of the bars. I could see the pool bar clearly from where I stood. There were a few figures there but none that resembled Richard. I decided I would stash my rucksack and walk into the hotel l
ike any normal tourist and have a look around. People were free to walk up and down Paje beach and I imagined there would be no problem in doing so. I opened the rucksack and removed the torch which I put in my pocket. I decided that if I was unlucky enough to run into Richard I would merely say that I had finished my work and had decided to take a walk and stop in for a drink. I approached the hotel from the right knowing that there would be very little chance that Richard would venture to that wing of the premises. As I walked up the slope of the beach towards the rooms I noticed a security guard. Unlike the Masai guards at my hotel he was dressed in dark overalls and wore a peaked hat. Around his waist hung a black rubber truncheon. I walked straight towards him and smiled in the dim light of the tiled pathway. “Good evening,” I said.
“Good evening sir,” came his reply.
“Can you tell me where the bar is please?”
“Yes sir, there is one near the pool, and one in the main building at the restaurant.” I Thanked him and moved on. My presence was not going to be a problem. Feeling relieved by this I made my way towards the pool bar. I had been unable to find a hiding place for the rucksack but I guessed it was small enough to look like any other day bag. I took a seat at a table in a dark area near the pool and motioned to the barman. Immediately I was approached by a young waiter in full uniform. I ordered a bottle of mineral water which arrived promptly. I sat there watching the scene around me as I drank. There were a few stragglers still sitting waist high in the water near the bar. They were deep in conversation and not interested in what was going on around them. I looked to my left and saw that there was still no lights on in Richard's room. It was time to make a move. I stood up and waved at the barman. He acknowledged and I moved on. I decided I would walk past the main building and down the left wing past Richard's room. If I ran into Richard whilst doing so I would just have to deal with it. The reception on the lower level of the building was plush and well fitted. Various guests and staff were moving around and talking inside as I passed but there was no sign of Richard.
The Jason Green series Box Set Page 26