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Operation:UNITY (John Steel series Book 2)

Page 20

by p s syron-jones


  Tony raised a hand to calm him. “Please, Mr. Shaw, I wasn’t implying that at all. You said yourself he went downstairs and when he returned he seemed different, as if he was upset. We are only trying to establish what happened and who he met.”

  Shaw sat back and opened one of the bottles of water on his desk. “Forgive me, Detective. Like I said, it’s been a tough week.”

  Tony raised a smile. “You mentioned a new deal and something about losing a lot of money?”

  Shaw nodded as he took another sip from the water. “Yes, the Callan deal. A small company who manufacture engine parts were looking to spread their wings—they needed to launch abroad. So all the workers pitched in everything they had to raise the capital it would cost to hire us. Quite a touching story really.”

  Tony tapped his pad with the blunt end of his pen. “How did he lose the money?”

  Shaw’s face fell as he said the words. “In this business we provide a service of import and export of everything from elastic bands to heavy vehicles. If a company wants something we get it. If another company wants to sell something, and we find a buyer. We make it easy because we handle all the paperwork for customs and so forth.”

  Tony looked at Shaw and smiled. “So you’re like a smuggling eBay?”

  Shaw grinned. “No, Detective. Everything we do is legal and we have a customs officer on staff that checks everything in and out. In fact what we have created has actually cut down a lot of illegal imports.”

  Tooms’s mind wandered, thinking that Shaw’s business was only as legal as he wanted it to be.

  “So what happened?” asked Tony, placing down the pen next to his notebook.

  Shaw looked angry. “We do business with lots of firms. Some new, some old established. When we were looking up a buyer for the Callan sales we came across one company that gave a generous offer. We dealt, and we lost. The company was bogus and the engine parts were lost.”

  Tony still looked confused. “But it was only engine parts, what’s the big deal?”

  Shaw rocked back and forth in his chair. “These were prototype engines for tanks, Detective! All a company would need is just one, and Callan would be out of business. He went through a sales group in Britain. They seemed genuine enough, but they were bogus. Callan arranged for the engine to be sent over on a ship for the company to test. A representative from Callan went with it. He must have been bought off by the company, as both engine and the rep were never heard of again.”

  Tooms looked at Tony, who wore the same calculating expression. “Who is in charge at Callan and where can I find them?”

  Shaw reached to the centre of the table where there was one of the five intercom systems. He pressed the button and waited.

  “Yes, sir?”

  Tooms recognized the voice that came over the loudspeaker as being that of the dark-haired receptionist.

  “Elisabeth, can you get me the details on Callan, please.”

  “Not a problem, sir,” she answered before the line went dead.

  Shaw looked back to the detectives. “If that will be all, Detectives, I have much to do. However, if I can help in any other way, please don’t hesitate to ask.” He stood up and shook their hands before disappearing down the corridor to his office. Tony switched off the recorder and put it into his jacket along with the notebook.

  “What are you thinking, man?” asked Tooms, who noticed his partner’s worried frown.

  “If this was a murder, how the hell did they get out before everyone came in?”

  SIXTEEN

  Steel poured himself a glass of the golden liquid from the half-empty bottle of whisky. He had to admit that this had turned out to be one hell of a trip, that was for sure. He picked up the glass between his fingertips in a claw-like grip then moved to the balcony. The fresh ocean breeze made the delicate net curtains flow like sheets on a washing line in the morning wind. This night was the first night of the six-day crossing and he had found out nothing so far, nothing he had expected anyway. His suspects were definitely up to something but he felt it had nothing to do with a major event. He still had the nagging feeling that what he had been looking for had not been on the ship until now, and that’s why he had not found it.

  As he took a sip from his glass he looked out across the great expanse and gasped as the large and majestic moon rose over the horizon like a morning sun. The blackness of the night’s cloudless sky was suddenly illuminated by the night’s sun. The ocean was calm and still, the night’s air was cool and soothing. Soon he would be back in the dining room, listening to more pointless stories from dull people. He hoped to be on the captain’s table but he knew there was a rotation of invitations to that prestigious dining place. He took another hit from the glass and closed his eyes as he sorted through the data in his mind, as if he was sorting through the files in his office.

  Suddenly his eyes sprang open and he finished the rest of his drink, as he moved to the mirror to make a final check. He cursed himself, realising that he had forgotten to put in his coloured contact lenses. His disquieting green eyes looked deep and disturbing even to him. He slipped into the bathroom and put them in place. Steel blinked several times then inspected the blueness of his eyes, and gave a small smile as he remembered how he used to look before the tragic massacre of his family at their ancestral home. He smiled as if smiling to someone else, then, turning on his heels, he left for the dining hall, ready for the night’s extravaganza.

  His walk was slow and deliberate. He was taking his time getting there. As he walked inside the dining hall he noted new faces in the assembly who were busy exchanging stories about what they had done onshore and the things they had bought. The orchestra was playing a slow waltz as guests made their way in to find their tables. Steel manoeuvred himself towards the bar. He perched himself onto one of the bar stools and looked out across the mass of people, but his interest was more in anything that stuck out, rather than in someone who might annoy him.

  For he was on the lookout for someone or something unusual, something to give him a lead on what was about to take place. He had gone over every theory he could think of regarding what could be happening, some being logical and some downright strange.

  “Good evening, Mr. Black, can I get you a drink?” Steel looked over to his left to find Grant standing talking to him there in a cheap tux.“Good evening, Mr. Grant, sure, why not?” Steel replied.

  The two men shook hands and leant against the bar top waiting for service. “So have you learnt anything new?” Steel asked the reporter.

  “No, not really. Just that we took on new boarders in Vigo as well as losing some.”

  The pair looked out across the passengers in the room.

  “And you, Mr. Black, did you get anything?”

  Steel shook his head and turned at the sight of one of the bar staff approaching. He ordered two whiskies before turning back towards the crowd.

  “No, not really. But something had better show up soon or I am going to be disappointed.”

  Grant nodded in sympathy at Steel’s comment.

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  John Steel took the two glasses from the bar and gave one to Grant.

  “Cheers,” Steel held up his glass and tapped it against Grant’s one, and they both drank before heading for their tables before the captain arrived.

  Steel was on the same floor as the captain’s table but Grant found himself on the floor above. Three friendly couples, including a pair who were in their eighties, joined John Steel at the table. Everyone talked mostly about their lives before the cruise, each having their own personal history, but the elderly couple were the most interesting by far. With stories of the war and the years after it, even as Steel sat there, politely nodding and laughing, he could not help but wonder where Tia was. The loadmaster had assured him that everyone was aboard, including Tia. Steel had the idea that she might be held up in her cabin—perhaps laying low for a while, in view of the drama over the past couple of
days.

  The captain’s table had new personalities to entertain him, and it was obvious to Steel that they had just boarded at Vigo because they were impressed by the decoration of the dining hall. Some were evidently in awe of Captain Long, and his seagoing tales upon the waves—stories of pirates, storms and sea monsters.

  Steel smiled as he cast his mind over the old sea dog’s tales and how outrageous they were. But they were fun, and the captain was a true entertainer. However, he didn’t seem quite himself tonight—somehow he seemed more formal and serene; even his stories didn’t have the same verve and kick as before. Steel’s mind was elsewhere, perhaps the worry was getting to him.

  “So, Mr. Black. What do you do for a living?” asked the pretty red-haired woman who was opposite him. John snapped back to reality and looked around to see the enquiring faces of the others at the table.

  “I am so sorry, I was miles away,” he apologized. “What did you ask?”

  “I was wondering what you did for a living. Everyone else has shared their life stories, and I thought it would be polite to involve you.” She had the smile of an angel and the body of a goddess, and her deep red hair was long and lustrous. She looked like a million dollars in her red-sequined dress and the man next to her knew it. He was a large stocky man in his late twenties, the sort of guy you would expect to have played college football and been head of the ‘I don’t like anything different’ kind of mind-set. His blond hair was neatly trimmed and styled.

  The man looked like what Americans call ‘a jock’—an outgoing manly, sporty type—and Steel assessed the redhead as a ‘daddy’s little girl’. He was looking at beauty and brains, but unfortunately the man, whose name card read Brad Sherman, had neither. The more Steel looked at him the more he came to think he looked more like a 1930s mobster. Steel noticed how Brad was constantly touching his girlfriend.

  “So, are you guys on your honeymoon or something?” Steel noticed that her name was Lisa Hamilton, and wondered if she was one of the famous Boston Hamiltons.

  She shook her head and beamed with delight. “No, we’re not married. Not yet anyway.”

  Steel’s smile faltered as Brad bust in on the conversation with some crass remark. Certainly, he was a big powerful man, but Steel was confident that he could have him on his knees screaming in one swift move if he so chose.

  John had seen couples like this before and in his experience the relationship never fared well for the woman. She had all the money and his only function was to give her pretty, healthy babies. Brad would no doubt end up working for Daddy’s company, screwing every woman around. And when daddy dies, he goes for half the daughter’s wealth before dumping her.

  “So, Mr Black what do you do for a living?” Lisa asked again. “I can tell you come from a moneyed background—this rich girl has a nose for that kind of thing. We are bred to sniff like-minded people out.” Lisa laughed. Her ocean-blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight as she leaned forwards, ready for John’s tale.

  “Well, I after I left Cambridge I joined the army for a while,” John told her. “After I left I decided to travel see the world on my own terms.”

  Lisa sat with her head cradled in her hands and her elbows locked on to the table as she listened to the stories of his travels. “Wow, did you become an officer or something?”

  Steel shook his head modestly. “No, I wanted to be one of the boys. I was a sergeant when I left.”

  Brad nodded with a smug look on his face. “So what unit were you in? Infantry? Artillery? A chef in the cookhouse?” Brad laughed but no one else did.

  “No, I was in 22 Regiment,” Steel replied, then as he took another sip of water he looked over to see the blank expression on Brad’s face and it felt good.

  “What the hell regiment is that, mechanics?” Brad jeered.

  “It’s the SAS, you dumbass,” the man in his eighties interrupted. “He was in the SAS. The Special Air Service.”

  John Steel raised a glass to the old man, who reciprocated the gesture. He grinned with delight as Brad’s jaw dropped at the revelation.

  “Oh, shall we eat?” Steel announced as the waiters brought the first course. Lisa smiled at Steel but this time she had a different look in her eye, one that he knew all too well.

  The conversation became livelier as the evening progressed. Brad had relaxed and had joined in by talking about some of his antics at college while he was on the football team. All the while Steel took time to scan the room without making it obvious. He was looking for two things: firstly anything wrong or out of place and secondly, he wanted to see if Tia was there.

  Suddenly the phone in his inside pocket began to vibrate, and he took it out and noticed it was a text message from Tooms, telling him about the fingerprint he had sent. Steel stood and excused himself while he took the message. He made his way to a group of seats outside the restaurant in a large congregation area, where brown marble flooring complemented the burgundy red chairs. Potted palms sat between the lines of back-to-back chairs. He looked down and opened the attachment he had been sent. As it opened up it turned out to be a photograph and information on the assassin, such as his name, background and rap sheet. Steel returned a text thanking him for the information then slipped the cell phone back into his inside pocket. He looked at his watch. It was late, and so he decided to skip the dinner table conversation and hit the hay.

  What he needed now was peace, quiet and heat. He looked over at the wall and found the interactive map board displayed on a forty-inch touch screen. He examined the diagram of the ship and pressed the ‘option’ button, and as he touched it a menu came up with places and activities on the ship. He scrolled down with his finger and searched for saunas and gymnasiums. The screen blinked and it showed three gyms on board, each with a sauna. He pressed the icon of the one on the top floor—this one seemed quiet and out of the way. Steel reckoned that most people would go to the larger better-equipped ones on the lower decks.

  As he walked away a shadowy figure came from the restaurant: it was Lisa. She walked up to the screen before it had time to reset and saw what he was searching for and where he was going to be. She smiled wickedly and bit her thumbnail, her imagination conjuring up wild thoughts of illicit assignations.

  The gymnasium was spacious, with enough equipment for thirty to fifty people, and with lines of bike machines next to running machines. There was a small area at the back for the free weights and all the weight machines were in the middle of the floor space. Given the lateness of the hour, it was quiet, giving Lisa the perfect opportunity to sneak in unseen. She moved quickly and quietly and with purpose through the area. Lisa was alone there apart from one of the gym staff teaching some young busty brunette how the equipment worked. Neither of them saw her enter.

  Lisa looked round quickly to make sure she had arrived there before Steel, and she smiled at the thought of what she was about to do. Next to the gym was the sauna room. This had white tiled walls and wooden slat flooring, on which six small wooden cubicles sat in two lines of three. Each was large enough for ten people to sit comfortably, the doors being a smoked brown colour, making it hard for others to see inside.

  She knew she was taking a risk, but that just excited her more. For Lisa was a rich girl who never really had to work for anything, nearly everything was given to her on a silver platter. However, John Steel was different. She knew she would have to work to get what she wanted from him, which made this project exhilarating. As she sneaked into the room, she checked the thermostat to make sure that the sauna room heating was turned on, she began to curse as she saw that they were all switched off for the night.

  Then, as she approached the last one in the far corner, she grinned broadly as she saw that it registered ‘hot’. She peered inside but the steam and smoked glass made it difficult to see anything. She looked round before trying the door handle, all the while her gaze fixed on the entrance to the sauna to ensure that nobody apart from John Steel was coming in. As she reached down s
he felt something sharp, and looked down to see that the handle was broken. She peered inside again just in case someone was in there.

  That was when she saw what she believed to be a hand near the bottom part of the glass. As she looked closely she noticed that the glass had been slightly cracked, as if someone had tried to break the door open. Lisa rushed through to the gym area to find the instructor.

  “Help! For God’s sake, there is someone trapped in the sauna!”

  The instructor ran with her to the next room. He followed her direction and tried the door to no avail. Crouching down, he peered inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of what Lisa was screaming about.

  Then he saw it. A hand that lay flat near the door. He grabbed the handle only to find it broken. Sweat began to cascade down his brow as he began to panic. “Oh God, I can’t believe this!” he mumbled as he tried to use his nails to get some sort of grip to prise the door open.

  “Can’t you call anyone?” Lisa yelled at him.

  He grabbed for his radio and called for assistance: “Hello, this is Derrick in Gym Three. I need the doctor and some engineers. We have someone stuck in the sauna, the door handle’s broken, so tell them to bring crowbars.”

  The woman at the other end told him to sit tight. The radio went quiet and he knew he could do no more. He looked at the thermostat, which read that the temperature was below the normal 194 degrees Fahrenheit, and he looked slightly relieved.

  “It’s not hot enough to kill whoever is in there, they have probably just passed out,” he explained.

  Lisa looked over at him in disbelief. “Are you worried about her or your job?”

  He looked away and said nothing. All the time Lisa had visions of Steel being in there, gasping for breath on the floor, and her heart pounded in her chest as they waited for assistance.

  Soon the door to the sauna room swung open and in rushed the doctor and two engineers with crowbars, who immediately got to work on the door. The sound of metal scraping on wood filled the room as the two men attempted to get some leverage on the door.

 

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