by Dawn Tamayo
Romero was torn, he didn’t want to take this information to Detective Spencer but he had no choice. He wasn’t even sure how it looked to himself at the moment so he doubted it would look any better to anyone else. He watched as Detective Spencer poured himself an orange juice and walked up behind him in the kitchen at the villa.
“Detective Spencer. Can I speak with you before we start the de-briefing?”
The detective turned around, he knew the sound of caution in a man’s voice. Nodding he put his juice down on the side and waited to hear what Romero had to say.
“I think we should ask Captain Manesco to join us.” Romero said.
Detective Spencer waited as Romero asked the Captain to come into the room and closed the door behind him. When finally the three of them stood alone Romero put a folder on the table and opened it up.
“When I left you last night I managed to swim up to the yacht we followed, the yacht which the Englishman Frank was on, and Marcus Martinez boarded at Estepona.” He said making sure he was being clear, directing his words to Detective Spencer. “I managed to get the name of the yacht, it was The Princess.” Romero said pointing to a copy of the registration document. Both the Captain and the detective listened intently. “The Princess is owned by and registered to a man called Oliver Chapman who lives in Estepona.” Romero paused for a moment waiting for them to put two and two together and hoped they wouldn’t get five.
“Oliver Chapman.” Captain Manesco repeated flatly.
“Yes, Oliver Chapman. So I had a colleague in Benidorm run a check on all his employees and one name came up which I thought sounded interesting, Frank Hodges. He is head of security for Oliver Chapman. I believe this Frank Hodges is the same man that we saw last night, I am just waiting for his photograph to be emailed to me.”
“Would this be the same Oliver Chapman who reported your ‘friend’ missing whom you co-incidentally bumped into yesterday? The same Oliver Chapman who happens to be your ‘friend’s’ fiancé?” Detective Spencer said emphasising the word ‘friend’ like he didn’t quite believe they were just friends.
Romero looked across at Captain Manesco who stood shaking his head in disbelief.
“Yes, and I know it looks bad, but I am sure that Helen has nothing to do with this. You did a background check on her yourself and you can see that she has never been in trouble.”
Captain Manesco let out a string of profanities as he walked around the kitchen, pacing the floor back and forth. Detective Spencer looked like he was going to explode.
“Look I know this looks bad….” He said again but Detective Spencer interrupted him before he could get another word out.
“Bad, bad? Really? That’s an understatement! The reason you were bought into this operation was because no one was supposed to know you around here. But now it seems that one of our prime suspects is engaged to your ex-girlfriend!” He shouted.
“She is not my ex-girlfriend.” Romero said flatly; he didn’t know what he could call her because they had never given each other a label. They had just ……….. been!
“Well whatever she was to you, do you think she told this Oliver Chapman she saw you yesterday? Do you think Oliver Chapman knows who you are, and that you are here?”
“No, definitely not. I hope you take my word for it, but if that’s not good enough for you then look at the facts – if Helen was involved and told them, then they wouldn’t have gone ahead with the drug-run last night, would they?”
Detective Spencer took a moment to think about it, and he thought maybe Romero was right - drug smugglers didn’t take chances. He walked out of the kitchen and called to the other officers waiting for him in the living room. “We need a few minutes. Go and get some lunch and be back here in an hour.”
Detective Spencer waited until everyone had gone then he, Captain Manesco and Romero walked back into the living room and sat down.
“So Captain, what do you want to do?” The detective looked to Captain Manesco; at the end of the day this was his operation and he had the final say. Detective Spencer was from the Serious Organised Crime Unit, but whilst they were on Spanish soil the Captain was the boss.
“Okay Romero, talk us through everything with Helen and this Oliver Chapman. I want it from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.”
Romero leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and recited how he first saw Helen wet with a head injury coming up off the beach in Benidorm, followed by when she regained consciousness she couldn’t remember anything, not even her own name. He told his Captain and the detective how he had taken her into his home, but he left out any details apart from helping her try to regain her memory. He chose his words carefully as he told them how Helen had said that one night she had been watched by the Englishman, Frank, and then approached by him the next day. Then finally, coincidentally, she was reported missing the following day.
“Sounds like a bit too much of a coincidence for me.” Detective Spencer said.
Romero nodded his head, he had to agree with him there. Then he continued telling them how he took Helen back to her apartment but she remembered nothing, and then he handed her across to the police in Estepona, and watched as Oliver Chapman took her away.
“Did Oliver Chapman see you?” Captain Manesco asked.
“No, I was watching from a car down the road.” The two men looked at each other and back to Romero.
“So what else do we know?” The Captain knew Romero, and he knew he would have dug as deep as he could go to get as much information as possible.
“Okay, Oliver Chapman owns a collection of luxury yachts which he rents out for holiday charters or long term lets to the rich and famous. His boatyard is down at Estepona but you will find most of his boats in Puerto Banus or moored in Estepona Marina when they are not out on lease. The Princess is one of his boats, and is not leased out at the moment; I had a trusted friend phone and make an enquiry about the yacht.”
Captain Manesco took in what he said and turned to Detective Spencer to see what he was thinking.
“I am still not convinced she is innocent in all this, she must know what is going on, she works in his office and she shares his house and his bed. For crying out loud, she is his fiancée!” Detective Spencer pressed.
“So what? We see all the time how people have no clue what is going on under their noses!” Romero stressed thinking of his many years’ experience as a policeman.
“And we also see so many times how a woman will be a fool for the man she loves, and how far she will go for him.” Captain Manesco said bluntly.
Romero took a deep breath, he knew the next bit was not going to look good, but then it was looking pretty bad for Helen as it was so he had to try anything to put things back in her favour. “I saw Helen about a week ago, just before I came out here. She paid me a visit when she came to see a friend of hers, a friend she met during her time near Benidorm. By accident she saw the picture of who I suspect is Frank Hodges on my table and she still didn’t recognise him.” Romero kept on talking as he watched Detective Spencer jump to his feet - he knew he had screwed up, the photos and information were top secret and no one other than the small unit were supposed to see them, but he kept on talking trying to salvage himself from the situation. “I’ve been thinking this is strange because she’s been back working for Oliver Chapman for a while now, yet she still didn’t seem to know who this Frank Hodges is. When she saw the photograph, that was the first time she identified the man in the photograph as being the man who approached her in Benidorm. If she had recognised him as someone she actually knew then she would not have identified him to me, that wouldn’t make sense.”
“I want him off the case!” Detective Spencer shouted, “He has compromised the whole operation.”
“Wait a moment.” Captain Manesco said trying to placate the detective, whilst finding how this mess could be used to their advantage. “If you are convinced she is not in on this, and since she is a ‘friend’ of yours, do you think s
he could be persuaded to work for us as an informant?”
“No!” It was Romero’s turn to jump to his feet this time. There was no way he was going to put Helen in danger. If this went wrong it would be like feeding a fish to the sharks. “Leave her out of this.”
“You know we can’t do that Romero, she’s right in the middle of this. Either she is with them or not.”
“She is not!”
“Is that something you are willing to stake your life on, because it could come down to that. And the lives of the rest of the unit as well for that matter.”
Romero looked at the Detective, he was serious, and he knew he was probably right too. He took a deep breath, “I believe Helen is not involved in this, but I am not prepared to try and get her to become an informant. She has to be left out of this. Surely if she isn’t already directly involved then she shouldn’t be put in a position whereby she has to choose what she must do? I didn’t think we were in the practice of getting innocent people involved when they are not already.” Romero didn’t want to think about what she would do if she had to choose between Oliver Chapman and him if the operation went sour, after all she had already made her choice once before when she walked out of his house and flew back to Oliver. He didn’t know if her choice would be any different now, not even if they told her they suspected her fiancé was involved in drug smuggling; love was a strange thing – he had seen it happen so many times before and it was too bigger a gamble to test Helen with now.
Captain Manesco nodded, “Okay, the positive is that Romero can identify Oliver Chapman if he is involved and comes onto the scene. Who knows maybe this Frank Hodges is using the yachts without his boss knowing.”
“That’s a possibility.” Romero said vaguely, but he strongly doubted it and he suspected the other two didn’t think there was much chance of it either.
The front door opened and in walked the rest of the unit with lunch bags in hand. Captain Manesco pointed to the seats and they all sat down again ready to start their debriefing. Romero took a bag from Miguel and thanked his friend. He took his seat again ready to hear what was to come.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Helen enjoyed the feeling of her little car around her and the open road in front of her. She drove to her apartment and unlocked her front door with the second key on her key-ring. She felt satisfied as she walked through the door pulling her suitcases behind her. For the first time in a long time she felt relief engulf her as she closed the front door behind her.
Helen walked around the apartment opening up the windows allowing the warm breeze to blow through the place. She set her laptop on the side and flipped the top up. Sitting down she tapped away until he finally found what she wanted; pulling out her visa card she booked her flight back to London the day after next. She wished it could have been tomorrow but that was wishful thinking, all the flights were fully booked. Nevertheless it was less than forty-eight hours away and at least this way she would have time to get everything sorted out before she handed the keys back to the letting agent and left Spain for good.
A lump rose in Helen’s throat at the thought of leaving Spain for good, of leaving anything to do with Romero behind. She knew he had moved on and that she had to too, but knowing what she had to do and actually doing it, were two very different things. For a moment, just a moment she allowed her head to fall into her hands and she felt the pain engulf her body. But then as quickly as she allowed it to engulf her she pushed it away and pulled herself upright. She was not going to allow herself time to sit and think about this, to think about Romero. First she had to get a few essentials for her apartment so she could eat and drink for the next two days, and then make sure that anything of hers was either packed or donated. She looked around and realised there wasn’t a lot of personal things, no little ornaments or pictures, apart from the one of her parents and the one of her and Oliver next to her bed. Helen decided it wouldn’t take long to sort out so first on her list was to get a little food and drink, and then she would have to head off to Oliver’s office and break the news to him. She was under no disillusion of any other way than it was going to be - she knew it would be ugly, but she just hoped that maybe he would be so annoyed with her that he would throw her out, which would make it all so much easier. But somehow she didn’t think so, otherwise he wouldn’t have fought to keep her with him all this time, even stooping to the point of lying to her and keeping her a virtual prisoner without her realising. She picked up her keys and handbag and headed out to the little shops up the road.
***
Miguel pulled his dark brown cap further down over his face. He walked up the gangplank of the yacht as if it was exactly where he was supposed to be. He had been watching The Princess for just over an hour now and in that time he had ascertained there was only one junior crew member on board, probably just to keep the yacht secure. So it was going to be now or never - he needed to get on board and find the logbook which was normally kept on the bridge. Miguel held his briefcase firmly in hand and walked through the yacht until he was stopped by the young crewman dressed in white.
“Who are you?” The young man asked Miguel uncertainly.
Miguel noticed the young man couldn’t have been more than twenty years old and looked more surprised than concerned.
“English?” Miguel asked trying to put the young man at ease and get to where he needed to as quickly as possible.
The young man nodded.
“A problem has been reported from your computer on the bridge. I need to give it a diagnostics check. Can you take me directly to it? Señor Chapman said he needed it fixed urgently.”
The young man nodded again, he didn’t want to get into trouble with the boss.
Miguel followed him through the yacht up to the front and onto the bridge. “Gracias” he said and waited for the young man to leave. For a moment he didn’t think the young man would go, but then he obviously remembered something he should be doing and turned around and left Miguel alone on the bridge.
Quickly Miguel searched around but he couldn’t locate the logbook. He put his briefcase down next to the computer making it look like he was working on it. Looking around the small room with large glass windows looking out to sea and an impressive panel of electronic buttons for sailing the ship, he noticed a cabinet next to the wheel. He pulled the cabinet door but it was locked. Reaching back into his briefcase he pulled out a small ice pick and tiny flashlight. He bent down and positioned the flashlight so he could see inside the small lock and pushed the ice pick in until he felt it touch the plunger mechanism. He pushed the plunger down and the cabinet door sprang open. To his relief he saw the logbook in front of him and he quickly took out his phone. Miguel opened up the logbook and paused for a moment when he saw that it was new. Instead of being completely full of entries the logbook was only weeks old. He photographed the log page for last night and then put the book back into the cabinet closing it up and locked it again. Closing his briefcase Miguel took it off the side pausing to place a tiny black listening device the size of a small pea on the underside of the Captain’s big black leather swivel chair, and quickly walked back through the yacht admiring its expensive cream interior as he went. Just as he reached the main deck he heard voices. Quickly he sidestepped to the winding stairway and headed downstairs away from the voices as he saw Oliver Chapman come on-board. Miguel mulled over his options in his head, should he take the risk of walking out right in front of Oliver Chapman pretending he was supposed to be there? He decided against it, thinking it was far too risky and decided to stay hidden for the time being; there were no signs that the yacht was taking off and hopefully Oliver was there just checking on something. Miguel tried to keep his breathing low as he strained to hear what Oliver was saying on his mobile telephone but he couldn’t make it out. Then he heard a vaguely familiar voice and he silently cursed.
“Oliver, are you in there.” Helen called from the gangplank.
“Yes, come on in I am just looking a
t something. Actually this is good timing, I’d like to get your opinion on it too.” Oliver called back from the living room on the upper deck.
“No thanks, this is as far as I go. You know I don’t want to go on a boat anymore.” Helen said fixed to the gangplank; as time had gone on she realised she didn’t ever want to set foot on a boat or yacht again for as long as she lived.
“I know Helen but you have got to get over this. Yachts are our business, you can’t never board one again! Besides this is my favourite, my baby. You used to love this yacht.”
Helen stood back looking at the marvellous cream and coffee coloured yacht and she had to agree it was beautiful, but that didn’t change anything. “Look Oliver I need to talk to you, it’s important and it can’t wait.” Helen said wanting desperately to speak to him now when they were both alone.
“If you want to talk to me that urgently then you had better come on board!” Oliver called.
“Okay let’s compromise. I’ll come on board if you promise you will meet me at the gate, and we talk by the gangplank. Deal?” Helen called back thinking this would have been mildly funny if she wasn’t about to have such a serious conversation with Oliver.
Oliver walked down from the upper deck and held out his hand for her to take it and come on-board.
“And we don’t go anywhere, we stay moored here.” Helen added as she felt her knees shake at the mere thought of getting on the yacht.
“Deal.” Oliver said.
She took his hand and stepped onto the main deck following him to a comfy seat close by.
“What is so important that it can’t wait until tonight Helen?” Oliver asked as he watched her take her hand out from his.
“Well that’s just it Oliver, I won’t be coming home tonight. I know this is not what you want to hear, and I am truly sorry, honestly I am. But I am not the Helen you knew and I am not in love with you anymore.”
