“Are you comfortable?”
“I just need to shuffle a bit. Ah! Ooo. It is okay, I am all right now.”
“While I am driving you can tell me exactly what happened to you, Amelia. I know the memory will be painful.”
“With no boat, where are you staying?”
“I am staying at the Pestana Grande, I only arrived this morning. I went along to the Real Canoa to have some lunch, that was when I heard from Bruno about the attack.”
Feeling slightly mollified, Amelia described what she could remember of the attack. “Had it not been for the paramedic who was with the ambulance and the wonderful Dutch couple who came to help me I may have been killed by them.”
“Did they say anything, like why they were attacking you?”
“No, they just hit me and kicked me and stamped on my arm, breaking it.”
She was crying now, the trauma of the last few weeks had destroyed her resolve to be brave.
“It must have been terrible for you. Did they steal anything?”
“No, they appear to have been stopped before they could. It happened so quickly, one moment I was leaving my office building and the next I am unconscious on the pavement.”
Vaughan reached into his pocket and, giving her a clean handkerchief, waited until she had dried her eyes.
Whilst Amelia had been telling her story Vaughan had driven to Ribeira Bravo then north as far as the turning that led high up onto the Brian da Serra, where he had found a quiet place to park a little off the road with a view of the serra stretching out before them.
“It is very beautiful up here, Amelia.”
“You have not been here before?”
“No, the previous times I have visited here I hardly moved out of Funchal.”
“While you are here I hope you will take the time to see more of our island,” said Amelia, in the form of a rebuke.
Vaughan was very aware now of the hurt he had caused in leaving without a goodbye. The way she sat in the car just looking forward, not turning her head when she spoke, even the tone of her voice.
He gave a much adjusted account of the attack north of Muxia and his escape, but now Vaughan was presented with the problem of giving a reason for his return to Madeira.
“You have not told me why you have returned.”
“When I eventually got back to England I thought that it was all over and started to find out if my yacht insurance covered that type of loss.” “No, Vaughan, you have to come clean now, you can’t keep the lies going.” “Amelia, forget what I have just said, there is something you must know and once you do know maybe you will understand. You see, I am a British Secret Intelligence Agent.” She gasped looking at him eyes wide. “My cover is that of a maritime author. I was only sent here originally to make contact with Walid al Djebar in connection with the North African Unification Conference. This time however, I have been sent to track down a British rogue agent who is on the island, we think to complete an illegal arms deal. I think he was also behind that attack on me.”
“No, no I don’t believe you.”
“Sadly, Amelia, it is the truth and I only tell you this because I really do care for you and would not want you to think that I do not. When this man is caught, I will have to leave, and after that I will probably be sent somewhere else in the world on some other little mystery, though probably still calling myself a maritime author.”
“Since my husband died men have told me many lies but none have been as good as this.” Vaughan could see her anger rising and hurriedly pulled his badge from his pocket.
“Here, take a look at this, Amelia.” She took the leather fold from him and opened it. “Now do you believe me?”
“Oh… oh, now I see, you are who you say you are. I am sorry I accused you of lying but you must admit I would never have expected to meet a Secret Agent in my life. I think I understand now how, er, what is the word, ah yes, er, pivotal it was that you save the life of Zeferino, for had you not, we would not have met and maybe the coup would have been achieved.”
Vaughan did not respond.
“Of course you would not wish me to share this information.”
“It would be much better if you kept it to yourself. If it got out, I am sure the Colonel would be wanting to ask you many more questions.”
She nodded. “You said that you really cared for me, yet not enough to give up this life of yours.”
“I have a duty to perform, one that I must complete.”
“This is the real reason that your wife left you.”
“No, not exactly, Amelia. We were just starting off to deliver a yacht across to France and I saw a yacht in trouble and went to help. It was manned by a gang of terrorists who took my wife and daughters hostage and coerced me into sailing the attack section of the gang across the Atlantic. Whilst she was hostage she endured some considerable suffering. When I returned to England she held me responsible for becoming involved and listening to her so called ‘best friend’ and her parents she insisted that we divorce.”
“That was an extreme reaction I think, Ian.”
“Her suffering involved a miscarriage, Amelia, she was expecting our son. She had wanted a son so badly, then to lose him that way, well.”
Amelia sat silently for a while and appeared to Vaughan to be relaxing a bit, then she asked. “When you join this SIS?”
“Shortly after the first run in with this terrorist gang they came back and by an unfortunate coincidence I got involved again. After that SIS approached me by which time the divorce was very much underway.”
She had turned now to look at him, her expression one of concern, “What if he sees you first, this person you are searching for, he could kill you?”
The change of subject caught Vaughan by surprise, “He thinks he already has, I’m sure of it, so he won’t be expecting to see me.” Vaughan reached into the glove compartment and pulled out Staunton’s photograph. “Think back to the meetings that Esteves held with his friends, did this man ever attend one?”
Amelia took several seconds looking at the picture, “No I don’t think so, I’m sure it was always just the same group.” She handed the photograph back, “Is this the man you are looking for?”
“Yes, that’s Leonard Staunton, ex senior agent.”
“He looks to be a very hard man so I am not happy that you take such risk to track him down as you say. If you find him then what?”
“I have a Special Branch Policeman working with me, he will arrest him.”
“Oh yes, and you will just point to him and say arrest that man. No, I think you take too much risk, if he sees you coming you will die. I am really not happy you involve in this thing.”
“And I am not happy that you are attacked and I understand abused in the street and Zeferino bullied at school,” replied Vaughan wanting to switch the conversation over to his concern for her, “You deserve proper protection, you did a great service for your country and it is their duty to now keep you safe. When we get back I am going to phone the Colonel and tell him to arrange protection for you,” said Vaughan wanting to take her mind away from his search for Staunton knowing that mention of the Colonel would achieve that.
“No, Ian, no no no. I do not want the army around me or my family and friends anymore, ever,” she protested loudly. “It will start that Colonel Castelo-Lopez asking those same cunning questions again trying to trick me.”
Vaughan went to say more, but she shouted, “No, no, I won’t hear of it!”
They sat in silence for a while, “Is there anything else you want to tell me?” she asked.
“No, Amelia, there is nothing more.” He waited for her to say something but when she didn’t he asked, “Have you sold the old apartment yet?”
“No, I have been too busy trying to recover my health and repair the damage to my business.”
“Susie and Luz still work for your?”
“Oh yes, Ian, they have both been great support to me but there are things they
cannot do.”
They talked for a while longer mainly about Zeferino and her fear that he would forever be cursed by the association of being related to the Esteves name and the stain associated with it. Then Vaughan drove back to Cämara de Lobos and helped her back into the house.
***
On leaving Amelia’s house he drove up to Capo Giräo and, finding a quiet spot away from the crowds of tourists, sat and thought hard about his future probably for the first time since his ex-wife Sarah and daughters were kidnapped at Bosham and held hostage. So much had happened since then, his wife’s reaction to the miscarriage of a son, the second run-in with Murata’s wing of the Japanese Red Army, the divorce and recruitment to SIS, and the mission that had first brought him to Madeira. On the island again alone, with orders to find and bring to justice a very dangerous man who would undoubtedly kill him given the slightest chance, he now stood tempted, so so tempted, to turn away from the task and seek a normal life with the very beautiful Amelia. What he had to decide was whether it was genuine love and affection or sympathy and a sense of responsibility.
As evening approached and the tourist crowds thinned Vaughan walked out to the glass floored platform and stared down towards the thin strip of cultivated land five hundred and eighty metres below, fascinated by the scale of it all. Surrounded by deep ocean the island of Madeira is not much larger than Britain’s Isle of Wight, yet in the centre the mountains rise to a little over eighteen hundred metres, just a huge volcanic plug that now provided soil for the most amazing gardens, vineyards, banana plantations and abundant fruit and vegetables. A paradise, remote in the Atlantic Ocean.
Returning to the hotel he walked through the foyer and lounge then out into the gardens, still churning over in his mind what path to follow. It was well after dark when he found Conway in the lounge bar.
“I guessed you had got held up somewhere. I was about to turn in, with only two and a half hours sleep last night I feel pretty shattered.”
“Sorry about that,” replied Vaughan, “But the afternoon became… very interesting shall we say, more on a personal level than business.”
“Oh. I won’t ask.”
“We had better make a plan for tomorrow, Brian. Breakfast at seven I think, then go into town, there is a house there I think we should visit.”
“Sorry I can’t do that,” replied Conway. “I can’t start an investigation here without it being cleared with the Portuguese authorities. The CPS has issued all the request letters from London and I am here as the Case Liaison Officer under Europol arrangements. My orders are to make contact with the local police and work with them on finding this man. It’s all tied up with ACPO rules, so my afternoon’s reading has been ‘Practice Advice on European Cross Border Investigations’, just to make bloody sure that I don’t make a mistake that some clever lawyer can spring him on.”
“Which of his crimes are you investigating, gun running or his possible connections with the coup here?”
“The coup?”
“Yes, his little abduction operation in Gibraltar used a powerboat and apartment owned by a private banker who the Portuguese SIS think may have connections with the coup leadership. Also, Staunton did his best to deflect my interests in anything other than my mission orders when I was last here particularly when I started asking questions about a Russian named Reshetnikov and Amelia de Lima’s uncle Olavo Esteves.”
“I see. No, I am definitely not interested in the coup, that is a Portuguese matter, and your little den of darkness of course. I’m just here regarding the illegal arms trading and abduction of a British national.”
“I’m glad we cleared that up, Brian, as I said before, this was arranged so damn quickly they had to skip my briefing in order to get me out here in the hope of finding the man before he moves on,” said Vaughan. “The house I mentioned earlier is the one previously occupied by Sarkis Kasakov.”
“Ah, I see, he’s the arms dealer who was shot.”
“The very same, currently his daughter lives there in the care of Kazakov’s ex-minder. We know that Staunton has made contact with the minder and I now believe that it was in order to do a deal on any stock of weapons that Kazako had stashed away.”
“Stashed on the island, here?”
“A most unlikely place possibly, Brian, but one never knows. The deal would have to be done here though, which is why I suggested the visit.”
“Right, thanks for the pointer, it means that I can go to the locals with some intelligence as a basis to the man hunt.”
“You’ve got the details of what passport Staunton is travelling under and all that?”
“Oh yes, that is all in hand,” replied Conway. “Like you, London could not give me the full briefing so now I know why you came along.”
“Didn’t they tell you anything?”
“Not much, it was a rush to get me out here like you. In fact when you sauntered off this afternoon I was beginning to think you were here on a jolly.”
CHAPTER 12
The rendezvous with the ship was days away and the arms were safe enough where they now were, so, in the meantime Staunton decided to sweet talk Alice Morgan into making a trip to London to deliver the notebook and collect the diamonds promised as payment for its recovery. He picked up his mobile and called her.
It rang several times before he heard a nervous, “Yes?”
“It’s me, sweetie, where are you?”
“Oh, it is you, Leonard, I’m frightened out of my wits.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m hiding in the holiday home of family friends and thinking that I am going to be arrested at any moment.”
“Whereabouts is that, sweetie?”
“In Wales, and I am not your sweetie.”
“In Wales, whereabouts in Wales, Alice, not too near to your parents’ home I hope.”
“No, it’s just outside Lampeter, I’m not that stupid to be near to home when my face is on every TV News broadcast,” she replied in a contemptuous tone, “It’s over, Leonard, I don’t want any further part in this grand plan of yours.”
“Oh, Alice, now come on, this is only a little hiccup in the plan, we’ll come out of it all right you will see.”
“I don’t want anything more to do with it, Leonard Staunton. Nothing, do you hear me.”
“But, Alice, you have Vermeulen’s notebook and believe me he won’t like it if you don’t give it back to him,” Staunton said with a slight hint of menace in his voice.
“He can go hang for his sodding notebook.”
“Well, Alice, don’t say I didn’t warn you. He will find you.”
There was a silence at the other end but the threat had been realised. “You mean you will tell him where to find me, you fucking bastard.”
“Now did I say that, Alice.”
“You didn’t bloody have to, Leonard, it’s now obvious to me how your mind works, I should have woken up to you months ago.”
“All right, Alice, if you want out from the prize giving so be it, all you have to do is deliver the notebook, then you will be free to hide where you want until the heat’s off. SIS will give up looking in a month or two; they’ll have bigger problems to deal with, but Vermeulen won’t.”
Again there was silence while Alice Morgan considered her options. “Oh sod you, all right, Leonard. Where do I meet him?”
“I’ve thought of the most public place I could think of that he would wish to go to and that is ‘The Rivoli Bar’ in Piccadilly, you know, on the ground floor of the Ritz,” Staunton replied, trying to hide the relief he felt. “I chose it for your safety, if you dress up in that Valentino dress of yours and the blue high heels, plus of course the Ascot hat, with sun glasses and make-up you would not be recognised by the normal clods looking for you.”
“And how am I to get there?”
“Train to Paddington and a taxi, Alice. I’ll tell him to pay you two thousand pounds in cash which you can keep to tide you over for a bit.”
“Okay I will tell him you want five thousand pounds for it. How will that do?”
“When?”
“What is the weather like?”
“Pardon?”
“I said what is the weather like, is it going to be sunny tomorrow or the next day?”
“Tomorrow I think. Why?”
“Well, Alice, that will be the day, can’t have you all summery on a rainy day can we.”
“What time?”
“Say midday for cocktails, he might even treat you to lunch.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
“Relax, Alice, it will be okay, I will tell Jan to be nice to you.”
“You really are a bastard, Leonard Staunton, leading me into this hole. You owe me, you really do, but I doubt whether you will ever think of paying for what I have done for you.”
“Oh, Alice sweetie, I had a really wonderful plan worked out that I am sure you would have been delighted with.”
“Don’t bother really, Leonard, don’t. You’ve caused me enough problems, I really don’t want any more.”
“Okay, sweetie, your choice. Give my best wishes to Jan when you see him.”
“Oh, go fall down a hole, Leonard.”
The phone went dead and Staunton looked at it frowning. Then dialling again, a smirk spread over his face. “Put the phone down on me will you, you little tart.”
“Evet,” said the gruff voice of one of Turkey’s finest criminals to operate in London.
“Emre Yilmaz?”
“Evet.”
“Leonardo, remember me?”
“Huh, yes, what have you got to sell today?”
“Nothing, Emre, a gift in exchange for a Chilean passport.”
During the next five minutes Staunton explained where the pretty Alice Morgan would be a little after midday the following day and where his new passport was to be delivered. “I will text a photograph or two, I am sure you will find her… most enjoyable.”
In Treacherous Waters Page 30
