The Curious Case of the Missing Head

by Gabriel Farago

  ‘And this Teodora just turned up here at the hotel that morning?’ asked Grimaldi.

  ‘Yes, we met her in the breakfast room. Entirely by chance, or so it seemed at the time.’

  Grimaldi shook his head. ‘That’s too much of a coincidence for me.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Cesaria. ‘She only stayed one night at the hotel. We checked her room; nothing. The bed hadn’t been slept in. The reservation was made through some booking agency. She paid in cash, and the personal details provided to the hotel are obviously fake.’

  ‘What else do we know about this Teodora?’ asked Grimaldi.

  ‘She has a villa on Lake Como, appears to be very wealthy and drives a rare car, a Lamborghini Centenario,’ said Tristan.

  ‘What?’ said Cesaria. ‘Why didn’t you mention this before?’

  ‘It didn’t come up ...’

  ‘Why is this relevant?’ asked Grimaldi.

  ‘Since we located Stolzfus’s body on the Caritas, suggesting a strong link to the Giordanos, I arranged round-the-clock surveillance of the Giordano villa.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘A black Lamborghini Centenario was driven into the Giordano compound two days ago. The driver was a woman.’

  ‘That’s interesting,’ said Grimaldi.

  ‘What’s even more interesting,’ continued Cesaria, ‘is that the car is still there.’

  ‘Unless it was a present, someone is bound to come and collect it. No-one leaves such a car behind.’

  ‘Exactly. And we will be watching.’

  ‘And Izabel Santos?’

  ‘It’s a lead we are following up, but in light of what we’ve just heard, I don’t think this is the right time. We don’t want to alert Teodora that we are onto her, do we?’

  Grimaldi shook his head.

  ‘I have something that may help here,’ said Andersen, who until now had only been listening. ‘As you can imagine, the CIA has a huge database and an army of analysts and profilers. We ran the key elements of the Stolzfus abduction, including the very latest developments involving Rogan and, of course, the likely Giordano Mafia connection through the system.’ Andersen paused, collecting her thoughts.

  ‘Go on,’ prompted Cesaria.

  ‘We know that at least one woman was involved in the London ambulance attack,’ continued Andersen. ‘She was killed and her body taken away. It now seems that a second woman is involved: Teodora ...’

  ‘What are you suggesting, Major?’ said Grimaldi.

  ‘There are only a handful of operatives active in the world today who can carry out such a complex, high-risk operation like this, and one of them is a group of two men and two women. The possibility of a second woman being involved was the key here. I just received the report from Washington ...’

  ‘What do we know about them?’ asked Cesaria, becoming excited.

  ‘Very little, I’m afraid. They operate in the shadows and seem to be involved in only very high-profile, high-risk matters involving assassinations, kidnappings, mutilations ... their modus operandi is always original and highly imaginative. They are wanted in several countries and have been on the CIA’s top priority wanted list for several years, ever since an American ambassador was assassinated in Turkey a few years ago. He was the target, but his wife and daughter were collateral damage. After every assignment they go to ground and just disappear. But there are quite specific similarities in their approach, almost like a signature, and there is a common thread.’

  ‘What kind of similarities?’ asked Grimaldi.

  ‘All the cases attributed to this group – and there are only a handful, often years apart – appear to have a strong commercial connection. In short, it’s always about money and business; big business.’

  ‘What kind of business?’

  ‘Drugs mainly, and money laundering.’

  ‘And the common thread?’ asked Cesaria.

  Andersen smiled. She had saved the best for last. ‘All the cases seem to be linked to the Mafia here in Europe.’

  ‘Excellent work, Major. Great to have you on board,’ said Grimaldi. ‘So, what’s our next step? I’m sure the commander is about to call me again.’

  ‘Fabry and the Caritas. We are about to go to Malta, hopefully this afternoon, to have a closer look at both. As soon as the paperwork allows it, that is,’ added Cesaria, rolling her eyes. ‘You won’t believe what I have to go through to make this possible. The Maltese authorities are dragging their feet, and I think I know why ...’

  ‘Good luck,’ said Grimaldi and stood up. ‘Let’s find Jack Rogan, and please keep me informed.’

  As soon as they left Grimaldi’s office, Tristan took Cesaria aside while they waited for Andersen, who had gone to the bathroom. ‘I didn’t want to say this in front of Grimaldi or the major, but Fabry is dead,’ he said, looking worried. ‘And I’m only telling you this because I know you will take this seriously and not just laugh and shrug it off ...’

  ‘Come on, Tristan, how can you possibly know this?’

  ‘I heard the music again ...’

  ‘What kind of music?’

  ‘It’s difficult to explain.’

  ‘Try.’

  ‘I had a similar conversation with Jack just before he disappeared,’ said Tristan, ignoring the question. ‘Unfortunately, I couldn’t quite finish what I had to say. You know I sense things; I have visions, I feel ...’

  Cesaria put her hand on Tristan’s arm. ‘I know, and I am taking this seriously, but ...’

  ‘There is more, a lot more, but I cannot tell you now because it would be too big an ask for you to believe it,’ said Tristan. ‘I’m having trouble believing it myself because it goes against every piece of logic and against everything we know, especially now that we have found Stolzfus’s body.’

  ‘Can’t you tell me anyway?’

  ‘No. But I tell you what. We are about to go to Malta to investigate Fabry. If we find him dead, as I believe we will, then I will tell you the rest because by then you will be ready to listen. And you never know, I may find out a little more about all this in the meantime ...’

  ‘All right. Let’s do that.’

  ‘Fabry died a horrible death and Jack is in great danger,’ said Tristan, looking anxious. ‘We must hurry!’

  The final approvals came through from Malta just after noon. With all the necessary warrants in place, Cesaria, Andersen and Tristan, together with two senior forensics officers, headed for the airport to catch the two o’clock flight to Valletta. By four-thirty, they were on the Caritas. Accompanied by two detectives from the Malta Police Force Criminal Investigations Department, they began to inspect the vessel. Cesaria expected to be met by the captain, only to be told that the captain and most of the senior officers and crew had gone on leave. Apparently, the captain had left the island earlier that day for an unknown destination. When they tried to contact Fabry at his clinic, they were told that no-one had seen him that day or knew where he was.

  ‘This is odd, don’t you think?’ said Cesaria as she followed Tristan down to the laboratory where they had found Stolzfus’s body during the coastguard raid four days earlier.

  ‘I agree,’ said Andersen. ‘The captain and all the officers on leave. Sounds a bit like rats leaving the sinking ship.’

  ‘Exactly. Or trying to be out of reach. Someone doesn’t want us to talk to them. At least not now.’

  As soon as Tristan entered the dimly lit laboratory that smelled of chloroform, he was once again assaulted by frightening images suggesting mutilated bodies and unspeakable pain. For a while, he just stood in the shadows and watched the forensics officers go through their paces. They began by examining the steel table in the middle of the room.

  Suddenly, Tristan could hear that music again. Softly at first but becoming louder by the second. That symphony again, he thought, Tchaikovsky, and closed his eyes. Moments later, he covered his ears with his hands and opened his eyes.

  ‘It happened right there!’ he cried ou
t and pointed to a spot next to the steel table. Cesaria walked over to Tristan and put her hand on his arm to calm him. Shaking all over and with his eyes wide open and staring into space, Tristan was looking at something only he could see.

  ‘What happened right there?’ asked Cesaria quietly.

  ‘Death. At first I thought it was Jack, but it’s not him, thank God. It’s Fabry! He died right there.’

  ‘Calm down. What are you talking about?’

  Slowly, Tristan walked across the chamber like a necromancer and stopped in front of a large vat. It was the same vat in which the remains of Stolzfus’s truncated body had been discovered. Then he lifted his right arm and pointed to the vat. ‘He’s in there,’ he whispered.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Fabry.’

  At first, the forensics officers were unable to open the lid of the vat, which appeared to be firmly sealed, with blue lights flashing on a control panel. It was only after a technician could be located on the ship and came to enter the security code on the panel that they were able to open it. The forensics officers took turns to climb the ladder and look inside. Both recoiled in horror. ‘Good God,’ said one of them, covering his nose, and looked away.

  ‘Is it Fabry?’ asked Cesaria. The technician climbed the ladder, looked inside the vat and nodded, looking shaken. ‘It’s him,’ he said and climbed down, ‘but most of his face is gone.’

  ‘What did I tell you?’ said Tristan quietly to Cesaria.

  ‘I don’t know what to think right now,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘This changes everything.’

  ‘What do you think happened here?’ asked Andersen, looking quite pale.

  ‘I think the Mafia is mopping up. Fabry had become a liability. I am certain Jack’s disappearance and this here are connected. In fact, it’s all classic Mafia. You stuff up, you pay for it. That’s what happened to Fabry. You keep poking into hidden corners and disclosing confidential information, you have to be silenced. That’s what’s happening to Jack.’

  Tristan was staring at a corner of the empty steel table and was tracing something with his fingertips. ‘Jack was here,’ he said quietly. ‘Not that long ago.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘He sent us a message.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘This here; look.’ Tristan pointed to the table.

  Cesaria walked over to the table and had a look. She could just make out a cross with a tick just under the cross bar on the right-hand side.

  ‘The Southern Cross and a tick.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Jack uses the Southern Cross with the slightly askew cross bar as a logo on all of his books. You would have seen it.’

  ‘Come on ... and the tick? What about the tick?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Tristan, a hint of a smile creeping hesitantly across his troubled face.

  ‘The tick represents the logo of the Nike brand, of course, right here where the fifth star of the constellation would be. Jack was here, most likely on this table, and scratched this into the surface with some sharp object, most probably a knife,’ said Tristan. ‘It could be done very quickly with only three short strokes. You could even do it blindfolded. Jack is on the Nike.’

  ‘Come over here and have a look at this,’ said Cesaria, turning to Andersen.

  Andersen came over and had a look. ‘What are we looking at?’

  ‘Tristan, please tell her,’ said Cesaria and stood back.

  38

  On the Coatilcue, on the way to Colombia: 3 July, afternoon

  The Coatilcue, a rusty old workhorse owned by the H Cartel, had done countless trips between Colombia and Morocco, primarily to transport coffee, but also to smuggle large quantities of cocaine into Europe, cleverly concealed in hessian coffee bags. Over the years, the cartel had acquired several large coffee plantations and was gradually moving its drug money into the lucrative – and legitimate – coffee business. The captain and his six ‘security guards’ were the only Colombians on board. The rest of the crew were African, mainly from poor, war-torn countries, who worked under appalling conditions and were kept in check by the armed guards, who terrorised them mercilessly.

  The captain had received specific instructions from Cordoba himself about the Stolzfus transfer arrangements and had allocated a sealed-off area at the stern of the ship for Stolzfus and his doctor. It was only an hour before leaving port that he was informed by Rodrigo that one more detainee would be coming along: Jack.

  The segregated area consisted of three cabins, a shared bathroom with a shower desperately in need of a thorough clean, and a small outdoor deck space. Jack was allocated a cabin next to the doctor. The rest of the ship was strictly off limits. Jack was a prisoner on the ship, with no passport, no access to a telephone or the internet, and no freedom of movement apart from the designated area.

  During the trip from Malta to Tangier on the Nike, Jack had also been segregated and locked in a tiny cabin without access to the rest of the vessel or contact with the crew. He therefore had no idea where he was or where he was being taken. And, of course, he had no inkling that Stolzfus could be alive. But all of that changed when Teodora paid him a surprise visit in his cabin just before the Coatilcue was due to leave port.

  ‘Jack, please listen to me. There isn’t much time,’ said Teodora as soon as the guard closed the door behind her, and she was alone with Jack in his cabin. Exhausted and disorientated after his horrifying ordeal on the Caritas and an uncomfortable two-day sea journey locked in a dark cabin the size of a cupboard, Jack just looked at her and shook his head.

  ‘I certainly didn’t see this coming,’ he said, referring to his abduction in Florence. ‘And I certainly didn’t suspect you. I saw you as Izabel’s friend. Someone she trusted and was very fond of. How could I have been so mistaken? I must be losing my edge. What do you want?’

  ‘Jack, believe me when I tell you that none of this is personal.’

  ‘So, being abducted at gunpoint during breakfast, then locked in a tiny cabin for days just to find myself lying naked on some operating table on a hospital ship, being prepared for vivification by a madman standing over me with a scalpel, wasn’t personal?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’

  ‘What was it then?’

  ‘A job. I’m sure you must have worked that out by now.’

  ‘One hell of a job.’

  ‘But killing Fabry and saving your life wasn’t a job. That was personal. A moment of destiny.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘You heard some of it, but there isn’t time to explain it all now. Perhaps one day … Now listen. There are a few things you need to know.’

  ‘What kind of things?’

  ‘Stolzfus is alive—’

  ‘What! What are you talking about?’

  ‘Hard to believe, I know, but true nevertheless. In fact, he’s right here on the ship in the next cabin with his doctor.’

  ‘You can’t be serious!’

  ‘I am. You’ll meet him soon enough.’

  Jack looked at Teodora in disbelief and shook his head. That’s when he began to hear that music again – Tchaikovsky – and could hear Tristan’s words: I firmly believe Stolzfus isn’t dead … and the word danger ringing in his ears.

  ‘Why?’ was all Jack could utter.

  ‘I don’t know exactly why either, but what I do know is this, and you better listen because it may help you.’

  ‘Help me?’ said Jack? ‘Help me in what way?’

  ‘Survive.’

  ‘Why are you doing this? After all that’s happened?’

  ‘It’s complicated. I’m doing this for Izabel and for you, her friend she thinks so highly of.’

  Teodora sighed heavily and looked pensively at Jack. ‘And for myself,’ she added quietly.

  ‘All right; I’m paying attention,’ said Jack and sat up.

  ‘Good. We are in Tangier right now. You and Stolzfus are on a
ship bound for Colombia. It’s about to leave.’

  Jack looked astonished. ‘Colombia? Why?’

  ‘Ever heard of the H Cartel?’

  ‘Sure, run by Hernando Cordoba, the Colombian drug baron with a son on death row in the US. Who hasn’t heard of him?’

  ‘Exactly. He’s behind all this. I don’t know why, but he and the Giordanos in Florence arranged everything. The entire Stolzfus saga, including your abduction. It’s all related.’

  ‘This is crazy! I still don’t understand. What’s the connection?’

  ‘Money, big business, drugs; what else?’

  ‘And Stolzfus and I somehow fit into all this?’ Jack shook his head. ‘I cannot see it.’

  ‘You will soon, trust me. You are obviously important enough to them to keep you alive, and you must use your knowledge and ingenuity to stay that way. I had specific instructions to make sure Fabry didn’t harm you. I also had specific instructions to kill him after you were interrogated in such a colourful manner on that table. To cooperate and not resist was smart. It made things a lot easier, not only for you, but for me as well. I believe it’s all about information. What you know and certain contacts you have, especially in the media. I’m certain they want to use that in some way.’

  ‘And Stolzfus? What about him?’

  ‘Not entirely sure, but that too will become clear soon enough, I suspect.’

  Teodora stood up and walked to the door. ‘I must go,’ she said. ‘Take care of yourself, Jack.’ Teodora opened the cabin door and was about to step outside when she stopped and turned around. ‘I really like you …’

  ‘A favour?’ said Jack.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Could you contact Tristan and tell him I’m alive?’

  ‘I will. If I manage to stay alive that long myself,’ she added softly.