The Malhoa Connection

by Estelle Ryan

  Colin jerked when the car doors slammed behind him. He held out his hand, his palm facing back. Manny, Daniel and Armando stopped, but Manny had to grab Vinnie’s arm to prevent him from storming towards Paulo.

  “You left us to die, motherfucker.” Vinnie strained against Manny’s hold.

  “I panicked.” Paulo failed to convey the distress he was trying to paste on his face. “I’m really sorry.”

  “The fuck you are.” Vinnie shook off Manny’s hand and walked back to the SUV.

  Colin’s mouth twisted in fury. “What could you possibly have that would help us?”

  “Access to that house.” Paulo shrugged. “I made friends with the company that installed her security system.”

  “So why don’t you go in there on your own?” Colin’s jaw was tight, his voice strained.

  I tried, but couldn’t relax my hands. My fingers tightened even more in my hair, my scalp tingling at the pull.

  Paulo’s shoulders lowered slightly, but his micro-expressions betrayed his apprehension. “Everything you want in that house is out in the open, hanging all over her walls. You only need the security access to get that. I need someone with brilliant IT skills to get what I want. And I know you have people on your team who can help me. That way we both get what we want.”

  “We don’t need your help,” Colin said through clenched teeth.

  “Hm. Maybe.” His smile held malice. “But I can guarantee you won’t get in there fast enough to stop the Collector from executing her plan tomorrow.”

  “What plan?” Colin’s fists tightened as he took a step closer.

  “Do we have a deal?” Paulo looked past Colin to Manny. “Do we?”

  I saw Manny’s answer before he spoke. But, as he inhaled, Vinnie stepped closer and whispered furiously into Manny’s ear. Manny’s scowl intensified, his lips thinning even more. Vinnie stepped back and Manny’s top lip curled. “Deal.”

  Chapter TWENTY

  IT WAS THREE MINUTES past six when I left my bedroom. I’d had a restless night, researching President Katombi and reading everything I could find about Celma Rebelo. What I’d found had been most unsettling. The few hours of sleep I’d managed to get had been filled with horrid dreams, no doubt triggered by seeing Paulo again.

  Vinnie was sitting on the sofa, reading something on his tablet. Francine and Pink were at the dining room table, both of them busy on their devices.

  “Morning, Jen-girl.” Vinnie jumped up from the sofa and followed me. “Let me make you some coffee.” He picked up a bowl resting on the kitchen counter and handed it to me. “Yogurt and fruit. Just the way you like it.”

  “Thank you.” I walked to the dining room table and sat down.

  “Hey, girlfriend.” Francine looked at me. “You might want a bit more concealer under your eyes. I needed a tonne more this morning. And it’s not because of the shiner. Don’t tell Manny, but I didn’t sleep much last night.”

  “I don’t think any of us did,” Vinnie said as he put a steaming mug of coffee down next to my bowl. “I’m still so pissed that Paulo refused to tell us what the Collector’s plan is for today. Why the fuck does he want to meet this morning and only tell us then?”

  No one answered him. I suspected it was another game Paulo was playing, trying to maintain some form of control. I took a sip of my coffee, refusing to speculate any further about the motivations of a man who’d had no qualms killing someone who’d trusted him.

  “Did you find any more information about the women?” I hoped either Pink or Francine had found something that would help me make sense of my own findings.

  “Nope.” Francine flicked her hair over her shoulder. “There are way too many Sophies and Louises to narrow it down. I’m running searches, but I’m not holding my breath. Why? Do you have something that could help me find out who they are?”

  “Possibly.” I suppressed the shudder that threatened when I thought about the article I’d read. I’d had to mentally play two Mozart sonatas to keep a shutdown at bay. My brain still felt bruised from the events surrounding the fire. The confrontation with Paulo last night had done nothing to soothe my mind. Neither had that article. Especially since I didn’t know how to fit it into what I already knew about the Collector.

  Colin walked in and went straight to the kitchen. Within three minutes everyone had joined us and we’d moved to the sofas. Everyone sat down with their breakfast, most of which were sandwiches. There was a gravity to everyone’s demeanour that weighed heavily on me.

  “We’re meeting Paulo and the other two in an hour,” Manny said.

  I inhaled sharply, pulling my coffee mug close to my chest.

  Vinnie looked at me. “There’s a park nearby. Dan and I think it’s better to meet Paulo away from our hotel. We’re meeting them there and that fucker is telling us what the Collector is planning.”

  “That’s the only reason I would make a bloody deal with that criminal.” Manny shook his head once, then turned to Colin. “It’s time, Frey.”

  Colin froze, then nodded tightly. He put his plate with a half-eaten ham sandwich on the coffee table and rubbed his hands on his thighs. A self-soothing gesture. “I met Paulo the first time thirteen years ago. I was dealing with a tricky case.” He glanced at Manny. “I had to retrieve intel on a CEO who was also a suspected paedophile. This man had two children and a beautiful wife. He was highly respected and had powerful connections in the corporate and political worlds. And was suspected to use those connections for trafficking and other repulsive crimes.

  “Interpol wanted me to break into his house and download everything he stored on the server onto a drive they gave me. They didn’t have the expertise to break in or the evidence to get a court order for the server. So I broke in.”

  A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “It was a fun challenge. This guy had impressive security. The server was in a room not unlike the panic room Paulo had in the church. But I got in and plugged in the drive. Then I had to wait for Interpol’s IT guys to connect and do their thing remotely. I couldn’t leave the drive there—we didn’t want the CEO to find it and know he was being investigated.

  “While I was waiting, I took a look around the room. All the footage from the security cameras in this man’s house was displayed on a bunch of monitors. It was two in the morning, so I was surprised when I saw movement in the house. We’d watched them for weeks to make sure their routine would give us this time window to do the download. They were always asleep at that hour, the house quiet.

  “Not that morning. Paulo was in the house. He had someone else with him and they’d tied up the whole family in the parents’ bedroom.” Colin swallowed, his face losing all colour. “The little girl was about three years old, her brother nine or ten. Paulo’s partner was torturing the father. They had already cleaned out both safes and could’ve left. To this day I don’t know why Paulo didn’t leave. Or stop his partner.”

  Colin’s voice wobbled and he cleared his throat. His nostrils flared and his lips were thin lines. “This man killed the little girl first. Shot her point blank in the head. Then laughed when the mother lost her mind about this. The boy was hysterical and the CEO had lost his voice from screaming. Paulo just stood there. He didn’t even react.”

  “What about Interpol?” Francine asked softly.

  Colin shook his head. “When they gave me a job, I was on my own. They would never step in because it would implicate them. They wanted whatever it was I was stealing, but without anything pointing to them.”

  He took a deep breath. “After the little one, Paulo’s partner killed the mother, viciously kicked and punched the father a few times before killing the boy and finally the CEO. Only then did Paulo confront his partner. Apparently, this guy had taken off his mask, then realised the family would be able to ID them. Paulo accused him of doing it deliberately so he had an excuse to kill them. Mind you, Paulo was also standing there without a mask or any disguise. Then—without any hesitation—Paulo p
ulled out his own weapon and killed his partner.”

  “Holy hell, Frey.” Manny’s sandwich was forgotten on his plate. “What did you do?”

  “Waited until Interpol gave me the go-ahead, took out the drive and left.” He pushed his hands through his hair. “Logically, I know I wouldn’t have reached the family in time to help them. I didn’t have a weapon or real means to help them. Not by myself. Even calling the police would’ve been too little, too late. But... I will never get that little girl in her pink Barbie pyjamas out of my mind. That’s the kind of person Paulo is. A cold-blooded murderer.”

  “Did you confront that motherfucker?” The scar on the left side of Vinnie’s face stood out like it always did when he experienced strong emotions.

  “Paulo disappeared for a year. Believe me, I searched for him. I was going to do anything and everything I could to find a way to set him up. It’s one thing to steal from others. But this?” He shook his head, his fists pressing against his thighs. “When I couldn’t find him, I did the next best thing. I was trusted in the crime community and when I warned them about Paulo, people listened. So, when he finally resurfaced the next year, he wasn’t welcomed with open arms.

  “I don’t know what he learned in that year, but he never went back to burglaries. That’s when he started dealing in intel. He was and is very good at it. He likes to play games, keep people off balance. Promising access codes to a nuclear facility, but delivering intel on FSB agents like he did with Armando is typical for him. He never does what he promises, but does enough to maintain the upper hand.”

  “Why didn’t Interpol go after him?” Daniel asked.

  “I have no idea. I pushed until I was threatened with jail time if I continued to confront them about Paulo.”

  “Maybe Paulo had some dirty secret on your superior,” Francine said.

  Colin looked at her. “I went through all the possible reasons for them stopping me from interfering and then blocking me from doing anything about Paulo. I gave up trying to make sense of that a long time ago. And”—he raised one shoulder—“I had to move on with my own life.”

  “What does he have against you though?” Daniel asked. “Does he know what you witnessed? Or is there another reason for his hostility towards you?”

  “He doesn’t know what I saw.” Colin’s smile was unkind. “But I wasn’t subtle when I discredited him with everyone on my contact list. Our paths crossed once and he told me... well, not me—he told my alter ego George Herbert that I was the reason he was so successful dealing in intel. If I hadn’t discredited him, his usual fences wouldn’t have turned their backs on him and he wouldn’t have considered any other options.”

  “You know you can’t take any blame for this,” Francine said. “Not for the CEO’s family or for him dealing in intel.”

  “Had I pushed Interpol harder, he might be in jail and Jake would still be alive.”

  Francine’s smile was sad. “What did you tell me about would’ves and could’ves?”

  “Now you bloody listen to me, Frey.” Manny moved to the edge of the sofa, shaking his finger at Colin. “Stop trying to be the bloody hero all the time. Paulo is the one who pulled the trigger yesterday. Not you. And he won’t get away with it. Not while I have breath in my body. Do you hear me?”

  The tension in Colin’s face lifted as he nodded slowly. “Loud and clear.”

  “Good.” Manny looked at Colin for another long moment, then glanced at his watch. “We need to get going.”

  The seven-minute walk to the park wasn’t pleasant. Even though it was another beautiful sunny spring morning, I couldn’t enjoy it. My mind kept stumbling over elements of this case that didn’t fit well together. It was unlike me to blindly follow someone, but if anyone had asked me to walk back to the hotel, I wouldn’t have been able to find my way, such was my distraction.

  “Jenny.” Colin’s hand tightened around mine. “You okay?”

  No, I wasn’t. I blinked and took notice of my surroundings. We were already in the park. I inhaled deeply. “I’m here.”

  Colin’s smile was gentle. He turned his attention back to the tables and benches grouped under trees a hundred metres from us. Each table could seat six people with comfort. Under one tree, two tables had been pushed together. Inge and Armando were sitting next to each other.

  As we neared, Francine groaned. Inge was wearing oversized jeans and a sweater that looked like all the shape and colour had been washed out of it. Her blonde hair was held back with an old-fashioned clip and her sneakers were torn. She was back in persona.

  Francine and Manny sat down across from Inge and Armando. Francine looked at Inge’s outfit with undisguised horror. “I really don’t like this you. Nope. Not at all.”

  Inge laughed softly. “I would rather not introduce Paulo to the other me.”

  “Yeah.” Francine’s humour disappeared. “You’re right.”

  I stared at the available space on the bench. It was dusty. I took a step back.

  “I got you, Jen-girl.” Vinnie shook out a white towel and with flair put it on the bench. “For you, m’lady.”

  “Is that a hotel towel?” Inge burst out laughing.

  “I’m taking it back.” Vinnie looked at Manny. “This is not stealing.”

  Manny glared from Vinnie to me, then shook his head and turned away.

  “Thank you.” My words came out strangled. Whenever gestures such as these reinforced the affection my friends had for me, I found responding hard.

  “Pah! It’s just a towel, Jen-girl. A pretty white one, but just a towel.” Vinnie winked at me and walked around the table.

  I sat down on the towel, Colin next to me, Vinnie and Daniel across from us. Thierry and Bianca were nowhere to be seen. Daniel had reassured us they would watch over us.

  “So, Inge.” Vinnie leaned over to look at her. “We know why Armando wants to stop the Collector AKA Wraith AKA Celma AK—”

  “You want to know why I’m here?” Inge smiled. “Or do you just like saying ‘AKA’?”

  Vinnie chuckled. “Both.”

  “I suppose it’s only fair.” She glanced at Armando. “I’m here because he asked me.”

  “Wait, what?” Armando stared wide-eyed at Inge. “What about the revenge you talked about?”

  “I never said anything about revenge.” She raised both eyebrows. “Think carefully. What did I tell you?”

  “I don’t remember word for word.” He frowned. “Really? You joined because I asked you?”

  “Yes.” She shrugged, then looked at us. “Armando and I... worked together before. I trust him. If he needs my help, I’ll help. He told me he was working with Paulo to take down the Collector.” She looked back at Armando. “And you told me about your cats.”

  “And that’s why you said yes?”

  She nodded. “I don’t have time or patience for someone who preys on vulnerable beings.”

  “But you told me—”

  “That I will help you take down the Collector to get revenge.”

  “For my cats?”

  “And the other people who’ve suffered under that evil scumbag’s hands.” Inge looked at me. “I’d heard rumours about the Collector maybe three months before your run-in with him in Croatia. I really couldn’t find much about this person, but the things I’d heard made my hair stand on end. It wasn’t difficult to decide to help Armando stop the Collector.”

  Armando continued to express his surprise and soon Vinnie was teasing him about being the most unobservant thief in the world. I took this time to study Inge and Armando’s nonverbal cues. Despite the lighter note of this conversation, their mood was also more subdued today. Seeing Paulo last night had brought home again the violence of his actions and the loss of someone they’d come to care about.

  I turned my attention to the park. On the paths leading around the park, I saw at least twenty people walking their dogs, jogging or cycling. One person stood out. No sooner had I noticed him than I recognised his b
lack attire hanging off his frame.

  Paulo was walking towards us. As usual, he was wearing black trousers, but this morning he was wearing a black jacket zipped closed. It was the first time I’d seen him wearing a cap. He’d pulled it low over his eyes, but it didn’t hide the discolouration caused by Colin’s fist.

  A group of joggers drew my attention away from Paulo, less than twenty metres from us. Had it been their gait that had caught my eye? I took a closer look. The nine men were all dressed in tracksuits, wearing high-end sneakers, the hoods of their sweatshirts pulled low over their faces.

  Not one of them was a jogger. A few might be bodybuilders, but it was indeed their gait that was off. There was nothing relaxed about their movement, nothing that indicated a rhythm developed over years of jogging. Instead, I noticed their arms away from their torsos, curled lips and a disconcerting intense focus.

  I froze.

  I willed my body to respond so I could warn Daniel and Manny, but I couldn’t look away from the men speeding up. My breath hitched.

  That was when Daniel noticed them. He knocked on the table and started rising from the bench when three of the joggers broke away and ran full-out towards us. They reached us before Daniel had straightened fully.

  “Sit down.” The tallest man stopped in front of Daniel, pressed up close. “Our business is not with you.”

  Another man moved behind me, standing so close I could feel his body heat. “If you try stop us, we kill this one.”

  Their English was halting, but clear. They knew we weren’t Portuguese.

  Vinnie and Manny were arguing with the men. My attention was on the other six men who were closing in on Paulo. One of the six was wearing a dark blue hoodie. He sped up and stopped in front of Paulo just as the latter reached into the back of his jacket.

  The blue hoodie man was faster. He raised a gun and shot Paulo twice in the chest.

  The shots rang loudly through the early morning, my mind screaming with each discharge.