“One more please,” I said to the barman. “I'll be back shortly.”
Feeling the call of nature, I got up and walked towards the entrance to make my way to the ablution block across the concrete patio outside.
“Sorry about earlier, Charlie,” I said as I walked past the dejected looking figure in front of the television, “I couldn't listen to that Bianchi idiot any more.”
“I know Jason,” he replied. “I felt the same.”
“Back in a minute,” I said as I walked out of the door.
The moon had turned the waves to my right into a seething grey slush as I passed the outside tables and walked down the short path to the gent’s toilet block. I stood at the urinal swaying slightly as I relieved myself. It was at that moment that the automatic flush mechanism kicked in and water began to flow from many holes on the chrome pipe above the sheet metal of the urinal. As I gazed out towards the trees through the staggered air vents, I became aware of an unusual smell. I quickly put it out of my mind as I zipped up and walked to the hand basin. The strange smell returned when I leaned over and opened the tap to wash my hands, but I thought nothing of it and the smell soon disappeared when I began to lather the sweet-smelling soap between my fingers. The fresh air on the walk back to the bar made me slightly dizzy and I debated whether to have the beer I had ordered. Not gonna make much of a difference Green. After grabbing it I walked around to the front of the bar and sat in silence next to Charlie as I drank. The situation was such that no words were necessary and there was some comfort in the mindless drivel on the screen. Fifteen minutes later the events of the day and the beer had caught up with me and I stood to leave.
“I'm out of here Charlie,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Cheers, Jason,” he replied quietly.
I crossed the concrete outside and walked into the dark area near the bougainvillea tree where I had parked the vehicle. It was when I took the right turn to reach the vehicle that I stumbled once again in the darkness on the hidden concrete slab on the sand beneath the tree. I fell forward only breaking my fall by grabbing the side of the vehicle.
“For fuck sakes!” I shouted as I pulled out the keys.
The drive back to the hotel was uneventful and once again the only person I saw was the familiar drug dealer who was in his usual spot leaning on the lamp post near the beach. I only realised how drunk I was when I stood swaying under the shower in my villa. Afterwards I filled a tall glass of water and lay back on the bed. My mind was in an acute state of confusion, fear and worry and it was only a few minutes before I fell into a deep but troubled sleep.
It was 7.30 am when I finally woke. I rubbed my eyes and frowned as I looked at my watch. The events of the previous evening came back to me as I drank from the glass of water. My head was pounding with the hangover from the beer and I quietly cursed myself as I got up and sat on the edge of the bed. With my elbows on my knees I closed my eyes and rested my head in my hands. I thought of the man from the embassy in his trendy suit and his outlandish theories. Then there was the memory of the broken Land Rover in the alley way. Finally came the vision of the two Chinese men from Imperial Dragon. Although they had tried to give the impression that everything was normal, I couldn't put the nervous darting eyes of the man with the scarred face out of my mind. You could be wrong Green. You might just be paranoid. You need to keep your fucking head straight Green. Getting pissed isn't gonna help find her.
The twenty-minute run up the beach did nothing for my pounding head and I swallowed three paracetamol tablets with my coffee when I returned dripping with sweat and regret. The first cigarette of the day tasted like shit and I stared out at the sea beyond the Casuarinas as I smoked. By the time I had showered it was too late for breakfast, so I decided to watch the news and check my emails until Charlie's opened at 10.00 am. I realised I hadn't been eating properly in the past few days and I was starving. As usual I checked my phone automatically every few minutes but there was not even a message or call from the crew. The smiling image of Gabby standing in front of the boat on the island was still showing on my laptop and it pained me to minimise it. It was 9.45 am by the time I was ready to leave and after a few calls to Klaus and Charlie I locked the villa and headed up the path to the vehicle. The heat of the day had set in and the steering wheel burned to the touch as I started the engine and reversed. Charlie arrived as I parked at the pub and we both walked in together and ordered coffee from the barman who was cleaning up and tallying receipts from the previous day. The rest of the staff busied themselves sweeping the floors and setting up tables while Charlie turned on the television and I browsed the menu. We were sitting in comfortable silence and halfway through our coffees when I first heard the commotion near the ablution blocks. There were at least three men shouting at each other. Charlie and I turned on our barstools to see one of the waiters sprinting towards us across the concrete floor outside. The young man burst into the cool interior of the bar with wide terrified eyes and almost slipped as he reached the smooth floor at the door. Immediately he broke into a rapid outburst in Portuguese directed at Charlie who sat listening and firing quick questions back at the man. Not understanding a word my eyes flicked between the frightened man and Charlie as I waited to find out what all the fuss was about. It was then I saw Charlie's jaw drop and the small china cup of coffee fall from his hand and smash on the polished floor below. When he turned to look at me, I saw the colour had completely drained from his face and there was true fear in his eyes.
“You better come with me Jason. We have a serious problem” he said with a shaky voice as he stood up.
“What is it Charlie?” I said placing my cup on the bar counter, “What's going on?”
“Please Jason, he said. “Please just come with me. They have found something.”
I followed Charlie and the man, out into the sunlight and I noticed that Charlie's legs were shaking uncontrollably as he walked. The waiter led from the front and repeatedly turned to look at us as he walked. We followed him past the toilet blocks and into the car park where we turned right. It was then I saw the rest of the staff standing in the shade under the Bougainvillea around the concrete slab I had tripped over the previous night. As we approached, I noticed that although the steel trap door in the centre of the slab was closed, the thick wire normally used to secure it had been removed and was lying on the concrete surface nearby. I also became aware of the smell. It was the same putrid stench I had noticed in the toilets the previous night. It was the smell of death. I felt a cold sliding sensation in my stomach as we approached.
“They said the water was smelling bad,” said Charlie, “so they opened the storage tank to have a look.”
The waiting men were silent as we came closer and Charlie and I stopped in our tracks when we arrived at the heavy steel trap door.
“I can't do this Jason,” said Charlie. “Please open it.”
I leant over and grabbed the handle. As I lifted it the hinges to the right squeaked loudly and the heavy steel thudded on to the concrete as I dropped it open. Daylight filled the gloomy interior of the huge subterranean tank and floating face down in the water, a metre below ground level was a body. Although the exposed skin of the arms and neck had turned white in death there was no mistaking the identity. The white shirt and khaki shorts were a give away. At that precise moment the bottom fell out of my world. The body was that of Gabriella Bonjiovanni.
Chapter 21: Cyclone
I staggered backwards and almost lost my footing once again at the edge of the slab. Charlie stumbled to the left and vomited loudly near the passenger door of his car. The smell was overpowering and instantly there was a swarm of green and blue flies humming in the air above the trap door. My mind and body were completely numbed from the shock but in some far away corner of my mind I knew I had to preserve what was left of her dignity from the awful buzzing of the flies. I stepped forward and slammed the heavy steel door shut. By that stage Charlie had dropped to his knees i
n the sand and was coughing and spitting yellow bile into the pool of vomit below. I walked over and helped him to his feet.
“We need to call the police now, Charlie,” I said.
It was as if my voice was not my own but some distant narrator who still had some vestige of sanity.
“Stay here!” I shouted at the men who had made the discovery. “Don't touch a fucking thing.”
The men nodded in understanding as I led Charlie away from the scene and back towards the bar. Once again everything appeared distant from me. The sound of the waves crashing to my left and the crunch of the sand beneath my shoes on the concrete surface near the bar seemed quieter than normal. Through the shock and confusion, I sat Charlie down at a table and made a call to Rodrigo.
“We have found a body,” I recall saying, “yes it's Gabby. Yes, she's dead. Get here as soon as you can.”
Charlie too regained some modicum of composure and made a call to the officer in charge of Macuti police station. He also instructed the guard to close the entrance and allow no one inside except the police and the crew. I watched his pale face as he spoke on the phone and a terrible feeling of helplessness came over me. I wanted to open the tank, go in and retrieve her. To bring her out of that dark, dank tomb and restore some kind of dignity for her. That is a job for the police, Green and you may well be destroying critical evidence if you do. It was only ten minutes before the police arrived. There were eight of them in total who arrived in an unmarked open pick-up truck soon followed by the officer in charge who arrived in his own vehicle. There was a good half hour of confusion and shouting as I insisted that the tank remain closed until the arrival of the actual homicide unit of the police and the fire service who would retrieve the body. Like before, the events seemed distant to me, almost mechanical, as if they were a dream and there was a strange buzzing sound in my ears.
It was 11.45 am when the homicide unit finally arrived. They were followed soon after by the fire service in a bright yellow truck equipped with ladders and a hoist. By then a large crowd had gathered at the perimeter fence and were jostling among themselves for a peek at what was going on. One of the homicide officers sent an armed policeman to disperse the crowd and keep them at bay by guarding the fence. Thankfully the homicide unit set up a barrier of plastic sheeting around the water tank so the operation to remove the body would be done in private. By then the crew had arrived along with Bianchi from the Italian Embassy. Still sharply dressed he quickly lost some of the colour from his tanned face when he approached the water tank. He left soon after and joined the rest of the crew in the bar area. The sense of loss and shock was palpable amongst the crew who sat huddled together drinking coffee while making call after call, on their mobiles. I sat on the periphery feeling strangely disassociated from proceedings and keeping to myself. Every ten minutes I went with Charlie to check on the retrieval of the body. It was just after 1.00 pm when the hoist was positioned and with the assistance of a police diver, the body was finally lifted from the tank. Although Charlie could not bear to witness this I stood and watched proceedings from inside the wall of plastic sheeting that surrounded the tank. The image burned a hole in my mind. There was massive bruising to the side of her face, but thankfully, her eyes were closed and the police were quick to cover the body once it was laid down on the concrete surface of the slab. Soon after, a government ambulance drove up and an aluminium body box was brought in. I watched as Gabby's body was lifted and carefully put in the box. The strange feeling of detachment continued as I watched the dented lid as it was placed on the box. I stepped backwards out of the line of plastic and stood at the corner of the ablution blocks in the shade of the overhanging Bougainvillea tree. It was as I lit a cigarette that I saw the vehicle. The cream Toyota sedan approached from the left on the sand road driving slowly as it came. On the driver's door, clear as day, was the emblem of a dragon. It was the same car I had photographed that night outside the Imperial Dragon yard in Ceramica. There was no doubt. I backed further into the shade of the tree for cover and watched as it drew parallel with the armed policeman at the perimeter fence. It was then I saw the tinted window open slightly and the pock marked face of the driver peer out. He turned and spoke to his colleague in the passenger seat briefly before closing the window and accelerating. The vehicle passed out of my line of vision and was gone. What the fuck? I stood in stunned silence as I absorbed what I had just seen. Slowly the reality of the events of the morning began to clear in my mind and I started seeing the bigger picture. I knew my brain was in a state of shock but the sight of the two Chinese men had the effect of awakening me somewhat. That is no coincidence Green. I crushed out the cigarette and emerged from the shade of the tree as the body box was loaded into the government ambulance and the plastic sheeting barrier was removed. By that time there were at least twenty homicide and uniformed policemen hovering around taking notes and speaking to the staff. The armed policeman was still doing a good job keeping the hordes of curious onlookers away.
The officer in charge signalled me to follow him into the bar where Charlie, the crew and Bianchi were waiting. As I walked towards the outside seating area, I turned to see the government ambulance trundling over the sand towards the exit. That's it Green. She's gone. The briefing from the senior policeman was translated for me by Rodrigo who sat next to me mumbling as the man spoke. The speech was disrupted constantly by phone calls and messages on the crew's mobiles and it was a full half hour before it was over. It was 2.30 pm when the police finally departed the scene and we were left to deal with the aftermath. Klaus, Alec and Rodrigo paced the interior on their phones while Bianchi sat, seemingly composed, drinking cappuccinos and typing on a tablet computer. Charlie sat in a state of fearful confusion and it was only when I ordered two double whiskies and took him to one side that he finally calmed down. A local plumbing company was called to drain and scrub the interior of the water tank and the staff were instructed to flush all cisterns and boilers with sea water in the meantime. The bar and restaurant were officially closed for the day and finally it was decided that we would all meet at the Yacht Club at 7.00 pm that night. The last of the whisky burned my throat as I drained the glass and put my hand on Charlie's shoulder.
“I'll see you later Charlie,” I said. “I'm gonna take a walk up the beach to my hotel. I need to clear my head. I'll pick up my vehicle on the way to the Yacht Club later.”
“Okay Jason,” he said in a weak voice.
“You gonna be alright?” I asked.
“I will,” he replied. “I'm sorry.”
The old man looked at me with tears in his eyes and I squeezed his shoulder.
“I'll see you later mate,” I said.
My mind was spinning as I walked out into the afternoon sun past the parked vehicles and the now abandoned water tank. The security guard nodded at me grimly as I left the gate and made my way up the sandy road that ran parallel to the beach. Most of the crowd of onlookers who had gathered earlier had left with the police and the road ahead was clear. To my right a row of mature Casuarinas grew from the mounds of yellow sand and the ocean stretched out to the horizon beyond. I fought to gather my thoughts as I walked on to the tar road and up to the pedestrian walkway near the sea wall. Ahead of me the street life and traffic carried on as if nothing had happened. Across the street to my left a group of small children laughed and kicked a rusty tin can around like a football. To my right, on the beach, a young couple sat leaning into each other listening to music from a small portable radio.
It was as if no one knew that my world had changed for ever and I was left alone with my thoughts and memories. The sun moved steadily down to my left and and I gazed at the pebbles in the concrete walkway below as I walked. It was some minutes later when I lifted my eyes to see the familiar figure of the drug dealer, I had met that first night in Beira. He stood leaning against the lamp post in his usual position ahead of me. Our eyes met as I approached him and he nodded at me in recognition.
�
��Hi,” he said as I passed him.
“Hello,” I said quietly without thinking.
It was when I was five metres past him that he spoke again.
“I saw what happened,” he said quietly.
I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him.
“What are you talking about?” I said through gritted teeth.
“I was here that night,” he said in perfect English. “It was very misty, but I saw what happened”
I looked into the young man's eyes and through his bravado I saw fear. I had seen it a thousand times before. Realising I might spook him I forced myself to be calm and reasonable. I relaxed my jaw, sauntered back towards him and leant casually on the sea wall nearby.
“So, what did you see?” I said quietly.
“The two men,” he replied, “the Chinese men. They were waiting over there in their car.”
He pointed up the tree lined avenue that led to the city centre.
“They parked their car in a dark place, but I could see them waiting there. They were smoking cigarettes,” he said proudly.
“Waiting for what?” I said keeping my voice low.
“They were waiting for the woman,” he replied. “I think they were going to follow her but her car stopped just before. There was smoke coming from the engine. It's a very old car.”
Suddenly I felt a tingling sensation in my arms and legs and the periphery of vision began to turn red. I forced myself to remain calm and control my voice.
“Cigarette?” I said pulling the pack from my pocket and putting one in my mouth.
The young man looked at me suspiciously at first then took the offered smoke. I lit them both cupping the lighter from the wind. I leant back on the sea wall and blew a plume of smoke into the breeze.
“What happened then?” I asked.
“Are you a policeman?” the man asked cautiously.
“No of course not,” I replied. “But I am interested and if you tell me the truth, I will pay you.”
The Jason Green series Box Set Page 65