The Rwandan Hostage

by Christopher Lowery

  I wonder what happened to her? He asked himself. She knew all about the bank accounts, the diamonds and the keys. Did she know about Emma and Leo? Could she be the missing link?

  Then another name from the past came to him. Vogel, Kurt Vogel. The accountant who stole a million dollars. He had an intimate knowledge of the Angolan Clan bank accounts and probably knew about the diamonds too. I always considered him to be a small time crook. An opportunist embezzler who took what he could then ran off before he was found out. Maybe I was wrong?

  Espinoza leaned across the table and kissed his wife on the cheek. “Gracias amor mio. Thank you my love.”

  “Is that so she’ll miss you when you’re away?” Laura laughed.

  “It won’t work. We’re going to shop and spend his money until he gets back,” responded her mother. “That will stop him rushing about the world like Hercule Poirot.”

  Espinoza poured some of the cold, delicious Navarra rosé. “Salud!” he said, “Enjoy the shopping.”

  Marbella, Spain

  “I’ve just had a good idea.” Jenny gave her sister a mischievous smile.

  “What’s that? I could do with a good idea.”

  “Since Leticia and Sam are joining us for lunch, why don’t I invite Patrice, her fiancé, as well.”

  “No way. I’ve told you I’m really not up to seeing anyone. I’m likely to get upset and make a mistake. Just count me out, I’ll stay in my room with a migraine.”

  “Nonsense. This way you’ll get to meet the whole group in one go, give the performance of your life and get it over with. You can’t put it off forever. Agreed?”

  “Very well, Miss Schoolteacher Jenny, if you insist.”

  “If we’re lucky, Fuente might join us too.”

  “Ah, Fuente, the famous, but as yet, invisible cat! Obviously a TS Eliot mystery cat, like Macavity. When a crime’s discovered then Fuente’s not there.”

  “Rather, when a crime’s prevented! But that’s another story. I’ll call Patrice now.”

  Jenny called the bank and was put through to Patrice’s extension. “This is Victoria, M de Moncrieff ’s assistant. Who’s calling please?”

  “Hello Victoria, it’s Sra Bishop, I’m calling Patrice on behalf of Leticia, his fiancée.”

  “I’m sorry Sra Bishop, he’s travelling on business out of the country today.”

  “I thought he was in Marbella today. Maybe I misunderstood. I’ll call his mobile. Thank you.”

  She turned to Emma, a puzzled look on her face. That’s funny, I’m positive she told me he had to return to Marbella for an important deal at the bank.”

  “Well that’s one less encounter for me to worry about today. Let’s go and give Encarni a hand.”

  She went with her to the kitchen, going back over last night’s conversation with Leticia. Why would Patrice say he was coming back to Marbella if he wasn’t?

  Phalaborwa, Limpopo, South Africa

  Leo took the dishes into the kitchen and came back eating an apple. Coetzee was still sitting at the table looking pensive. He sat across from him and said, “Why did you split up from your wife and daughter, Marius?”

  “What? Oh, it wasn’t my idea, it was Karen’s.”

  “So what was the problem? People don’t usually split up without a reason.”

  “It’s actually none of your business, Leo, but the answer is, I have no idea. Two years ago she just said she was fed up with the whole marriage bit and wanted to leave me and take Abby with her”

  “Just like that?”

  “Exactly like that, she moved out within a week and that was it.”

  “Did she have a boyfriend?”

  “Not as far as I know. She found a job and a place to live and went off with her daughter and her belongings.”

  “Why do you say her daughter? Isn’t Abby your daughter too?”

  “It’s more complicated than that and I told you it’s none of your business. Why don’t you tell me about yourself instead?”

  “I thought you knew all about me and my mom. Isn’t it part of the Abduction for Dummies manual, Get to Know your Prey?”

  “Very funny. I mean, for example, do you have a girlfriend?”

  “There’s a girl I go to the cinema with sometimes. Not a girlfriend, but she’s good company. We like the same kinds of things.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “You know, stuff like computer programming and thinking up new applications and ideas. We like science fiction films, space stories, like Matrix, Lord of the Rings, that kind of thing. She’s the only girl I know who likes football and she’s got nine ‘A’ passes, one more than me.”

  He’s smitten, thought Coetzee. “What’s her name?”

  “Alice, but don’t start spreading rumours.” Leo laughed self-consciously.

  “Sounds like a real catch and I promise not to say a word.” He picked up his mobile phone. “Time to be a film star. Come and sit here.”

  “This for the reward message?”

  “Yes it is. I want to show your mother you’re OK. I don’t want her to worry about you.”

  “You mean any more than she already is?” Leo sat in front of the lodge wall as directed.

  “Say cheese.” Coetzee took a couple of snaps. “Right, keep yourself busy for a minute or two. I’ve got stuff to do.” He went into the lodge.

  At the desk, he opened up his laptop and transferred the photos from his mobile. He chose one and attached it to his draft message. After making a couple of changes, he read the message one last time, then taking a deep breath, pressed Send.

  Leo waited until he was busy preparing the reward message then quietly extracted the newspaper from under the cushion and retired out of view of his abductor.

  It took him only a moment to find the news item. It was true! Lambert was dead, undoubtedly murdered by Nwosu. Coetzee was right, the policeman was a vicious killer. I wounded him but we let him go free. His blood ran cold. And I made it worse by killing Blethin. Shit! What’s going to happen to us if we get caught?”

  “You weren’t supposed to read that.” Coetzee was standing at the patio door, holding out his hand.

  Leo folded the paper again and handed it to him. “You told me last night, remember? When you accused the sergeant of murdering him? It didn’t register with me then. Reading it like that in the paper, it’s different. It’s a really fucked up situation.” Tears came to his eyes, but he was determined not to blab, not to show weakness.

  “We live in a fucked up world, Leo. Get used to it.” Although the South African tried to sound hard, Leo sensed a lot of emotion beneath the surface.

  He lay back in the recliner, wondering how to get hold of Blethin’s mobile again to send another message to his mother. Now he knew where they were. Not the town or area, but the name of the safari lodge where they were staying. It was written on the top of the newspaper for the delivery boy, Olifantsrivier Lodge. Now he had the advantage. He had to use it.

  FORTY-THREE

  Marbella, Spain

  Emilio was delighted to see his Aunt Jenny again. “Hola Jenny!” He cried, reaching up so she could hoist him into her embrace.

  “You’re becoming far too heavy for me. It’s all that French food. We’ll have to put you on a diet,” she laughed.

  “Je parle Francais,” he said proudly.

  “Well, I don’t, so you’ll have to talk to me in English.” She turned towards Emma. “This is your other English auntie, my sister, Emma.”

  He put his hand out politely. “How do you do, Auntie Emma.”

  “Hello Emilio, it’s lovely to meet you.” She took the little boy’s hand and gave him a kiss. “You must be very clever, speaking lots of languages.”

  “Don’t be fooled, Emma. He speaks very good Spanish, but only a dozen words of English and French. I’m Leticia. I’m so happy to finally meet Jenny’s big sister.”

  “We’re helping Encarni with the lunch, so go and sort yourselves out and we’ll se
e you when you’re ready,” Jenny instructed. Lunch was the first priority. Sam would be arriving from the airport at three o’clock.

  Leticia took her son along the hall to their apartment. “What a beautiful woman!” Emma admired Leticia’s graceful figure as she walked away. “She’s even lovelier than you described. Makes me feel quite dowdy, especially at the moment.”

  “Well, she’s just as nice as she looks, so you’ll get on well together. Now, into the kitchen, pronto!”

  “So, how was your trip to South Africa, Emma? Did Leo enjoy the World Cup?” Lunch was under control and Emilio was already in the swimming pool, under Encarni’s supervision. Sam was due in fifteen minutes and the three women were sitting on the terrace, enjoying a glass of Fino and getting to know each other. Suddenly there was an air of tension around them. Leticia was immediately aware that she’d struck a raw nerve.

  Emma looked worriedly at Jenny. How did she know about South Africa? She wasn’t on the list and Jenny hadn’t mentioned it to Espinoza.

  “Did I tell you she was going to the football? I can’t remember doing so.” Jenny racked her brain, she had no recollection of such a conversation.

  “We heard you talking about it on the phone last time you were down here. You invited Emma to stay while I was away with Patrice and she told you she would be at the game with Leo. Have I said something wrong? I didn’t mean to overhear. I’m sorry.” Leticia looked mortified. Jenny was her idol and she bathed in her approbation.

  “Of course not, I had just forgotten all about it, that’s all.” Jenny looked at Emma and shrugged, just one of those things.

  “It was a very eventful trip,” Emma replied carefully.

  “Where is Leo? We can’t wait to meet him. Jenny says he’s a keen footballer, he can teach Emilio to play.”

  “Leo’s staying just along the road in Estepona,.” Jenny said quickly, before Emma could react to the question. “His friend Nigel’s parents have rented a house there, down near the beach.” “It’s a nice coincidence both of them being here on holiday at the same time. You’ll see him before they go back.”

  “Patrice keeps telling me we should go down to South Africa,” Leticia went on, “he says we should go while Mandela is still alive, because you don’t know what might happen afterwards. Was it quiet? Did you see any signs of trouble?”

  Jenny saw her sister struggling and interjected again, “From what Emma told me they saw no signs of trouble in Cape Town, but Johannesburg has quite a different reputation. Is that right, Emma?”

  “Yes. There’s a lot of problems in Joburg, but Cape Town is lovely and quiet. The football was a bit of a disappointment, but it was a very memorable holiday.” She took a deep breath. “And how was Nice? I’d love to visit the Côte d’Azur sometime, when I save up for another holiday.”

  The moment passed, apparently without provoking any suspicions in Leticia, who started rattling on about the weather in the South of France, the luxury hotels and wonderful restaurants, first class service and beautiful shops. She sounded as if she was reading from a travel brochure. “Patrice loves it down there and so do I. We’ve decided we’re going to buy a place near Nice, it’s so beautiful along that coast. My French is quite good now and I’d love to spend more time in the country.” She saw Jenny’s frown and added, “Just a small place. I couldn’t afford anything big now.”

  Jenny was thinking, she’s obsessed with all things French. I just hope she doesn’t throw away her money on some chateau in the middle of nowhere. Aloud, she said, “I phoned to invite Patrice for lunch, but apparently he’s travelling.”

  “Presupuesto. Of course. He told me he was coming back to Marbella but when he arrived he was called away again on some big transaction the bank’s involved in. He’s travelling an awful lot these days. It’s rather stressful.”

  “Do you hear that, Emma? Leticia could hardly speak a word of English when I first met her a few years ago. Now she speaks fluently and is mastering the Latin languages one after the other.”

  “I’ll invite him for the weekend when he gets back, so Emma can meet him. How long are you staying?”

  Once again Jenny stepped in. “Probably about a week or so. It depends when Leo gets back from his friend’s.”

  Leticia again failed to notice Emma’s unease at the mention of her son. “Of course. Stay as long as you like. I suppose writers can work from anywhere?”

  Gradually the atmosphere became less tense and they settled down to swapping stories about their activities. Jenny encouraging Leticia to tell them about her travels with Patrice, to keep Emma out of difficulty. It was not the easiest of conversations.

  Malaga Airport, Spain

  Laura drove Espinoza directly from the restaurant to the airport. He was travelling in economy to Frankfurt and wanted to get through check-in and security without any stress. He had only a carry-on bag and his laptop case to save time when he arrived. During his time as Chief Inspector of the Homicide Squad of the National Police Department in Malaga, he had been spoiled. When he travelled for the force, he had a privileged parking spot and a fast track route through to departures and business class. Now, he was just one of the millions of low fare passengers who had to queue to claim their uncomfortable, tightly spaced seat in the back of the plane. Sometimes he pined for the old times.

  He sat in the departure lounge near to gate D 53 and settled down for his sixty minute wait. Taking out his mobile he called Marcel Colombey, his friend at the French National Police. “Salut, Marcel. I’ve another little job for you, if you don’t mind.” Although Esther Rousseau hadn’t been heard of for two years, there might be a trail he could follow. Even if it just meant eliminating her as a suspect.

  Next, he called Inspector Andréas Blaser in Geneva, one of his Interpol contacts who had followed Vogel’s trail two years ago. The search had been fruitless, but it might be worth opening up the investigation again. At this point he had to follow up every possible link, however unlikely.

  He made a couple more calls then looked at the South African Broadcasting Corporation website again. The front page had a new item which jumped out at him.

  Latest News: Murdered White Man’s Corpse

  Discovered in Polokwane.

  Another death. This time a definite murder. And in Polokwane! This is not a coincidence. Espinoza’s mind was whirling. But who is the unknown victim? And who is in charge of cleaning up? He decided that he was obliged to share this information with his employer before he left, in case she changed her mind about his trip. He called Marbella.

  Jenny saw Espinoza’s number appear on her phone and walked away from the others. She listened in silence as he related his latest report, her mind numbed by the announcement of another death.

  “What do you think? Should I change my plans? I’ll do whatever you decide.”

  Jenny tried to think clearly. She took a deep breath. “You have to go down, Pedro. It’s even more important now. We don’t know who this victim is and we have to find out immediately. It’s clearly not Nwosu, but what if it’s Coetzee? It would mean that Leo is in the hands of that despicable police sergeant. My God! I just can’t tell Emma about this. She’ll fall apart completely.”

  “Agreed. Now we have two murders to help us in our investigation and that could be of vital use to us. Let’s see what I find there before we tell her. We’ll talk tomorrow evening. I’m going to call back CS Hendricks. He’ll be keen to get me involved if I can show the two deaths were connected. His resources will be valuable to my investigation.”

  Jenny mumbled her agreement, her brain still trying to cope with this latest revelation. In the back of her mind she was blaming herself again.

  Espinoza was still speaking. “There’s another thing, Jenny. Can you bring to mind anything about Esther Rousseau or Kurt Vogel? They knew all about the money and diamonds and they disappeared off the radar when d’Almeida was killed. There could possibly be a slender thread there, perhaps?”

  A shi
ver ran down her spine. Schneider’s assistant at Klein Fellay, d’Almeida’s lover. And Vogel, Charlie’s crooked accountant. More links to Charlie’s fortune and to the diamonds! It was like a poison to her. That’s why the diamonds were hidden away in Geneva, where they could do no further harm. No one, including Espinoza, knew she had both keys so she avoided the subject. “What do you mean, Pedro? Has something happened to implicate them?”

  “Not as far as I know. Someone reminded me that bad pennies tend to turn up again and I’ve lived that experience before.”

  “I’ve heard nothing more about Esther since the night d’Almeida died. From what he said, they were going to meet, but I don’t know where. She just disappeared. And so did Vogel, I have no idea what happened to him after he embezzled the Angolan Clan’s funds. I agree they knew all about the Angolan fortune, but I can’t believe they somehow managed to find out about Emma and Leo and their history. It’s too far-fetched.”

  “Well, I’ve put out some feelers just in case. We don’t have many suspects, so we need to examine them all with a microscope.”

  This remark jogged her memory. “Pedro, there’s been another unexpected development. We just found out that Leticia knew about Emma’s trip with Leo. I hate to say it of Leticia, but your list of suspects has now doubled!”

  “Or perhaps trebled or quadrupled,” he replied.

  Phalaborwa, Limpopo, South Africa

  “Ah, Mr Coetzee again. Good afternoon” The Voice tried to sound friendly and relaxed but he didn’t quite succeed, especially with the acoustic distortion. “The good sergeant still isn’t available?”