Missing Presumed Lost

by Fred Lockwood

  ‘Let go!’ Sandro shouted as he flung himself out of reach.

  City Boy dropped back into the sea. Sandro waited until he had grabbed the fender and looked up.

  ‘Your choice,’ shouted Sandro. ‘You either let me cable-tie you to the rail or you can swim for Sicily. It’s only about fifty kilometres!’

  When they pulled him to the rail this time he didn’t resist. Just centimetres apart Sandro could now look at City Boy more closely. Clean-shaven and with very short hair, Sandro guessed he was in his late twenties or early thirties. Below the oil-covered face, he looked quite handsome until the slightly misshapen nose and scar tissue around the eyebrows became evident. Sandro decided that a cable-tie to both wrists was a good idea. Jack was sitting on the deck with his back against the steel plate of the ship superstructure. Sandro was on his haunches and both were splattered in fuel oil.

  ‘Time to clean up and make a phone call,’ said Jack as he got to his feet and headed for his cabin.

  Chapter 41

  Finessing the queen

  Julio rattled the handcuffs as Sandro and Jack entered the lounge:

  ‘You’re in deep shit, my friend,’ said Julio in a menacing tone.

  Before he could continue Sandro held up his hand to signal for him to be quiet and Jack circled behind him. As Sandro began to speak Jack slid a long cable tie over Julio’s head and then held onto the end as he wriggled the plastic hoop up and down Julio’s throat. Julio suddenly became rigid.

  ‘Thank you for the observation. It is much appreciated,’ said Sandro in a sarcastic tone. ‘Let me bring you up to date with what’s been happening. I’m afraid your boat has had an accident, a fatal accident.’

  Sandro glanced at his watch as though performing a calculation:

  ‘I’m afraid it is currently heading for the seabed. The depth of water here is over a thousand metres and so it takes a long time to get down there.

  ‘The skipper tells me that no messages were sent from the cruiser before you came on board and before the motor cruiser sank. Oh, by the way, he and his mate are cable tied to the ship’s rail along with your bodyguard. They will follow the motor cruiser in a few minutes.

  ‘So, your boss knows you left port and came to search for us but he doesn’t know you found us… ’

  Sandro was interrupted by Shaun who came into the lounge with a short length of anchor chain draped over his shoulders. The broad links were rusty and it was clear that it was heavy.

  ‘Sandro, reckon this will do the job nicely. I’ll cable tie them to it and wait for you on deck.’

  The effect on Julio was instantaneous. He went deathly pale and his jaw dropped open.

  ‘As I was saying,’ continued Sandro, ‘the cruiser has disappeared and it will be easy enough to make you all disappear. Your boss will never know if his offer was delivered.’

  Sandro turned towards the door.

  ‘Let’s get them tied on. We can come back for Julio.’

  Sandro’s hands were shaking. He and Jack had walked out of the lounge and were now leaning over the rail near the bow.

  ‘I don’t think I can do this,’ said Sandro as he held up his shaking hands.

  ‘Consider yourself lucky. My innards are shaking so much I think I may shit myself,’ Jack said with a smile. ‘I thought you were fantastic, you even had me convinced that we were going to dump them all over the side.’

  ‘It’s just that I don’t think I can keep up the act, I don’t think I can sound convincing,’ Sandro offered.

  ‘What, did you see his face when Shaun came in with the anchor chain? He’s convinced that he is minutes away from being fish food. Let’s take a walk and talk.’

  Sandro and Jack entered the lounge. The change in Julio was pronounced. The swagger and sneer had gone. It had been replaced by naked fear. He started to speak but Sandro turned, stooped and screamed into his face in Italian. Jack had no idea what he said but it worked; Julio fell silent. Sandro and Jack walked over to the armchairs and sat down.

  ‘The easiest and safest thing for us to do is to drop you over the side with the others. That chain, and a cable tie on each wrist and each ankle, will make sure nothing ever surfaces. But there could be an alternative… We could let you return home… if we have your signed death warrant!’ explained Sandro.

  It was clear that Julio was following the conversation but was confused about the alternative! Sandro continued:

  ‘Letting you live is risky but potentially safer for us than throwing you over the side. Let me explain: if you were able to convince your boss that the Italian coast guard was already on the scene, and disembarking refugees from the Gronkowski 34, you would not have been able to convey his offer. It would be unfortunate but nothing you could do about it. There would be no reason why he should want us to have a fatal accident.

  ‘All we need then is a story about an accident at sea where the motor cruiser, and everyone except you, is lost. It was an old boat – the skipper was not a young man… and it’s obvious that you and your friend know little about boats.’

  ‘How about hitting a partly submerged container at eighteen knots? That would take the bottom out of the boat. It would go down in seconds,’ offered Jack.

  ‘That could work,’ replied Sandro. ‘We are close to the main shipping lanes and containers get washed off in storms all the time. It’s feasible that one of them was floating just below the surface.’

  Jack and Sandro certainly had Julio’s attention. His head was switching between them as they spoke.

  ‘We also need a plausible reason why he and the others were on the boat and in this area,’ offered Jack.

  He then added:

  ‘How about Julio being interested in buying the boat and wanting a test drive?’

  ‘But why would the other guy be on the boat? If they wanted to try the boat out they wouldn’t need to come this far,’ replied Sandro.

  ‘What if they were off to Malta for some reason… to buy an apartment, perhaps to buy a boat and to check out moorings? How far is it to Valletta from Syracuse, one hundred and fifty nautical miles? In these seas the cruiser could probably do eighteen knots – it’s one day of motoring,’ said Jack.

  Both Jack and Sandro were silent for a moment. They were both thinking about the alternatives.

  ‘I’ve got money,’ Julio blurted out. ‘Some of the guys have bought apartments. I’ve got contacts in Malta who would vouch for me,’ he added, desperately trying to make the story plausible.

  ‘OK, so how do we get him from swimming in the middle of nowhere back to Sicily?’ asked Sandro.

  ‘That’s the easy bit,’ replied Jack. ‘We retrieve the lifeboat that popped up, stick it on the RIB and tonight dump it back in the water with Julio inside it. When it popped up I noticed it had those flexible solar panels and radar reflectors on the canopy. At night, with the automatic lantern inside, it will glow and be seen for miles. It will also shine like a neon light on the radar of any ship within fifteen nautical miles,’ said Jack. ‘All we need to do is check the times, distances and currents and it will work,’ he added.

  By now Julio was nodding in agreement and even smiling, albeit awkwardly!

  ‘OK, it looks like we may have a plan that will get you back to Sicily rather than the seabed, but now we need your “Death Warrant”.’

  ‘If we are going to let you live we need rock solid information from you about your boss. We need information that only you would know and which is incriminating. If we were to have an accident the information could be given to the authorities and shared with your boss; naming you as the source. If we have an accident, you have an accident! You get the idea? We want you to have an incentive to keep us and you alive!’

  Chapter 42

  Death warrant

  Sandro got up and walked across the deck to the galley and came back with a pen and sheets of paper.

  ‘Ok, what’s the name of your boss?’ demanded Sandro.

  Julio hesitated as t
hough thinking through the implications of giving away any information. The pause was just for a second but Sandro leapt from the chair and thrust his face into Julio’s.

  ‘Don’t waste my fucking time!’ he shouted with spittle spraying over Julio’s face.

  Sandro grabbed the cable tie in his hand and twisted it sharply. The thin strip of plastic was biting into the soft skin of Julio’s neck and his eyes were wide open in alarm.

  ‘If I think for one minute you’re feeding me bullshit I’ll throttle you myself!’ he said as he released the tie and pushed Julio away from him.

  ‘Right, what’s his name?’ asked Sandro.

  ‘Roberto Tarranzini,’ replied Julio still shaken by Sandro’s outburst.

  Sandro was methodical in his questioning. He quickly discovered the basics. Tarranzini lived in Villa Spellio, an isolated mansion on the coast due west of Palermo. The grounds were protected by armed men but it was possible to simply leave a message with a guard at his gate!

  ‘OK so far, but this is all stuff that I guess is well known. It’s not going to convince anybody. Tell me about the trafficking and the money,’ he demanded.

  Again Julio hesitated for a moment and Sandro started to stand with a grim expression on his face. Julio continued with his account.

  Over the next hour an elaborate picture emerged. Their men in North Africa trawled for would-be migrants wanting to get to Europe. They only wanted the ones who could pay with the price depending upon the country they wanted to go to. The cost was competitive. They only charged fifteen thousand US dollars for the boat trip to mainland Italy with a guaranteed transfer to an inland town. The cost would go up to be taken along the coast with a transfer to a town in France, Spain, Holland or Germany. A one-way trip to Germany cost US$ forty thousand per person, adult or child.

  He had been sent to check on the Gronkowski 34 because the captain was holding over US$ three million in cash. He had missed the rendezvous and the last message said he was in this area. Further questioning revealed that during the first transfer of migrants to mainland Italy, Maz, the guy cable-tied to the rail, would collect this money from the captain and return to Palermo. A substantial amount of cash would remain on board to be paid to others in the network at transfer time.

  Once Julio started answering the questions it seemed the reluctance was ended and he seemed to reply readily to the questions Sandro posed. Sandro then changed tack:

  ‘OK, if that ever got out your boss would be pretty pissed off but my guess is that the authorities have a good idea of what you do. They just can’t catch you! Even if all of this was written down and given to the cops I doubt it’s anything like enough to bring charges. They would need the evidence. So where does the money go? How is it handled?’ asked Sandro.

  ‘Ask Maz, he can tell you about deliveries,’ he replied with some of the former confidence returning.

  ‘Afraid that’s a little tricky, ’cos Maz is probably on the seabed by now. He was giving us some trouble and so we tossed him over the side,’ said Sandro. It was said in such a casual way as though this happened every day!

  The confidence that had started to return evaporated. Julio then described how Maz, with a car full of armed men, would drive to the banker, Aaron Kline, to hand over the money. There was no schedule; the trips were made on different days and different times. Sometimes there would be a few days between trips, sometimes two or three weeks.

  ‘Did the money always go to Aaron Kline, the banker?’ asked Sandro.

  ‘No, replied Julio. ‘Most of the time the trips were to the banker but earlier this year we took a bag of cash to a lawyer in Rome.’

  Sandro made a note of the name of the lawyer, the street in Rome and the approximate date.

  ‘How much was in the bag?’ Sandro asked.

  ‘I’ve no idea. The boss said it was a wedding present for his daughter. One of the guys told me it was to buy her an apartment in the city.’

  The interrogation was becoming more like an informal chat between old friends. It seemed Julio was relaxed and happy to describe how he was a trusted lieutenant.

  ‘Did you drop off any other bags of money?’ asked Sandro.

  ‘Not often. Maz was the one to carry the cash. I do know he flew to the US because the boss was investing in property. Maz told me the boss was buying a massive place in Palm Beach and a condo in California; I think he said it was in Santa Monica.’

  Then, without prompting, Julio dropped a bombshell.

  ‘To show I’m cooperating I’ll tell you about the book keeper!’

  It seemed that whilst Maz was the link to the banker Julio was the link to the book keeper. He would ferry the man from his home on the east coast of Sicily to Palermo for irregular meetings. He knew the address but even after six years of escorting him didn’t know his name!

  It was now dark outside and Sandro was getting tired. They decided to call a halt.

  ‘I’m going to call a few people to see if any of this holds up. Don’t worry, I will not give the game away. But if I find you have been feeding me bullshit you will be joining Maz!’ threatened Sandro.

  ‘I need a piss,’ shouted Julio as Jack and Sandro reached the door.

  Sandro turned and walked back to the galley and rummaged in the rubbish bin until he found an empty orange juice pack. He walked over to Julio and dropped it in his lap.

  ‘Use this,’ he said and walked away.

  Chapter 43

  Into a spider’s web

  Jack and Sandro were sitting on the bunk in Jack’s cabin. Sandro was holding the satellite phone in his lap and waiting for the connection. The connection was finally made.

  ‘Hi, Jack and Sandro here,’ said Sandro in a detached tone. ‘Have you been able to contact your colleagues?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, I have set up a conference call,’ replied Penny. ‘Contrammiraglio Lorenzo Conti, a senior officer in the Italian coast guard is in Naples. He is on the line. Also, on the line is Matteo Lombardi from the public prosecutor’s office in Palermo. A police officer is also on the line but merely recording the conversation. If that is acceptable we are ready,’ she added.

  Sandro said it was all fine and started to read from his notes and over the next twenty minutes or so recounted all the information, names and addresses, dates, sums and networks that they had finessed from Julio. There were few questions and even fewer requests for clarification. When he had finished he asked:

  ‘Is that enough? Will you be able to check on any of this and tell if it is genuine, if it will help you?’ he asked.

  The coast guard officer was first to respond. In a fairly low-key manner he thanked Sandro and Jack for all their help and confirmed that one of his ships, the Donatello, was on route to their position and would take off all the refugees and take them to Syracuse for processing. He also asked for confirmation about the seaworthiness of the Gronkowski 34 and the state of those on board. He knew that a tug was en route to tow the Gronkowski 34 to Syracuse but said the vessel would be impounded pending a detailed search. When he had said all he wanted to, he invited others to speak.

  Unlike Lorenzo Conti, Mateo Lombardi was effusive in his praise for the action they had taken and the information that had been obtained. He confirmed that his colleagues in the police were currently analysing the information and would act as soon as possible. However, he was confident that the information, plus the chance to question Julio and Maz, could be critical in their attempts to dismantle a major trafficking network and criminal organisation.

  Perhaps they should have anticipated the request but it came as a shock. The public prosecutor asked if they would be prepared to travel to Syracuse to give formal statements to the Italian police and coast guard! Penny also asked if they would be prepared to travel to Split to give similar statements to the Croatian authorities.

  After the dramatic last few days the morning arrival of the coast guard and trip to Syracuse seemed like an anticlimax. The Donatello was one of the largest ves
sels in the Italian coast guard. At well over three thousand tonnes she dwarfed the Sultano and dominated the Gronkowski 34. During previous encounters with coast guard vessels they had been boarded by armed men, restrained and searched; it was different this time! They discovered later that Penny had spoken to Peter Annington, her boss and acting director of the British Border Force. It seems he had spoken to his counterpart in Italy who had relayed a message to the captain of the Donatello!

  It was the Donatello that called on the marine radio to ask permission to come alongside to transfer refugees. Whilst Julio and those cable-tied to the ship’s rails were taken into custody and the refugees transferred, they were all invited on board the Donatello. Once on board it was broad smiles and handshakes, cappuccino and cakes. It was whilst they were chatting in the officers mess that the captain explained that he had been ordered to transfer four of his crew to the Gronkowski 34. They would stay on board and assist the tug during the tow to Syracuse. The captain had recognised the Sultano as an old Italian patrol boat and was keen to hear of the alterations that Jack and Sandro had undertaken. However, it seemed the good weather had encouraged hundreds of would-be migrants to attempt the hazardous crossing from North Africa. Once the transfers were complete the Donatello had to return to Syracuse at full speed! He did relay one piece of news. It seemed that the captain and crew of the Gronkowski 34 had chugged into the main harbour in Syracuse and tied up close to the harbour master’s office. The captain had made a statement about hitting floating debris, a subsequent engine fire and having to abandon ship. He and the crew were just about to be transferred to a local hotel, pending further enquiries and instructions from the owner of the ship, when the authorities were alerted to the attempted scuttling of the ship and drowning of the refugees. They were transferred not to a hotel but to police cells!