‘We will be back in a few minutes to collect the parcel,’ said Fuller, and he hung up.
Cole drove them both back to the hotel. They collected the package from the front desk and headed up to Hedge’s room. He let them in after they banged loudly on the door for the second time.
‘Someone’s in a rush,’ he said as he answered the door.
Cole explained what had happened and laid the package on the bed. It was a brown cardboard box about twelve inches square. He tore off the tape holding down the lid and opened it. Inside was a plastic bag, and within that was what looked like a small leg of pork. There was some blood on the end of the meat, and a sharp, white bone stuck out from one end of it.
‘Someone has sent us our lunch,’ said Fuller, somewhat nervously. He hadn’t quite worked out what exactly he was looking at.
‘What is it?’ said Hedge. ‘It smells a bit like salted bacon.’
Cole turned the bag over and pointed at an area that still had some skin covering the meat. The surface of the skin appeared to have some bite marks clearly showing, and there were ink markings also visible.
‘I don’t know many pigs that had a tattoo exactly like the one that Angel had on his left arm. No wonder he didn’t show up at the bank just now,’ said Cole.
The three of them went quiet. They now knew what they were looking at.
‘Oh shit,’ said Hedge. He turned his gaze away from the bed. His face had turned pale and he looked like he was going to be sick. He took a few deep breaths and then turned back to face the others.
‘These guys will now know what we are planning, don’t you think?’
‘They’ll know shit,’ said Cole. ‘Anyone other than Angel would have given away their life story, but not him. He wouldn’t reveal his collar size, let alone anything of use. Not even to bastards like this lot.’
Fuller was about to put the lid back on the box when he noticed a small envelope under the plastic bag. He picked it up. It wasn’t sealed, so he pulled out the contents. It contained a folded sheet of paper and several photographs. He studied the photos and then passed them to the other two.
The first one was a picture of the tall building they had seen when they first drove into Dubai – The Burj Khalifa. The second was a view of the city, seemingly from high up the same building. Next, was a picture of an arm holding an object out of an open window. It was difficult to make out what the last photo was showing. It looked like a pizza had been dropped onto a clean pavement, except the pizza seemed to be spread out over a large area – possibly twenty feet wide.
Hedge and Fuller looked perplexed. They both turned back to face Fuller as if expecting an explanation.
The answer came when he read the words on the folded paper.
‘It seems your friends head didn’t bounce very well, although that’s not surprising when it has been dropped from eight hundred metres high. Go home. Leave Dubai on the next available flight. Or you will be next.’
Fuller looked up from the paper. He had a serious expression on his face, but there was also a hint of deep sadness.
‘Whoever did this is going to pay. I guarantee it.’
Cole looked angry, and grim, but said nothing. Hedge had tears in his eyes, as he turned and headed for the bathroom. He closed the door behind him.
A short while later, they all went off to do their own things, and to get some sleep. They were all still deeply shocked. Cole took the box and its contents away to see if he could dispose of it somewhere. They agreed to meet up the following morning.
The next day was hotter than ever. It must have been close to forty degrees and Cole was feeling a bit pissed off. Things weren’t turning out quite as he had expected, so he decided to try a different approach.
They drove back towards the bank and parked the car in a street nearby. Cole and Hedge headed into the bank, leaving Fuller to keep an eye on things outside. Once in the building, Cole walked over to the information desk and asked to speak to the manager of the branch. The assistant explained that the manager was rather busy, but would be free in maybe twenty minutes time.
‘We’ll wait,’ said Cole. His voice indicated that he was still in a bad mood.
It was over half an hour later that the two of them were shown into the manager’s office. He was a short man, with a pale complexion. Cole was expecting someone Arabic looking, but this guy looked like a European. He ushered them into some chairs and offered glasses of water, before moving round to sit behind his desk. The surface of the desk was clear, with no paperwork showing anywhere. All that was visible was a telephone, a calculator, and a picture of what looked like his wife in a silver frame.
‘My name is Brandt. How may I help you today Mr. Cole. I’m afraid I don’t have much time though,’ the manager said.
‘That’s good,’ said Cole. ‘I will be brief then. I have two pictures to show you, and I need some information. This is the first picture. I need to know who this man is and if he has made any deposits into your bank recently.’
Cole held up the black and white photograph of the man they suspected was Anna’s boyfriend – the German. It seemed possible that he could have been the one who would have deposited the blackmail proceeds.
‘I am afraid I am unable to help you with this matter. We cannot give out confidential personal information such as this,’ Brandt responded.
‘Look at the photograph please,’ Cole persisted.
‘It is a waste of time looking. I am not able to help you. We operate under very strict confidentiality guidelines. Now, I really am very busy, so if there is nothing else then I would please ask you to leave.’
‘Then I need you to look at the second photograph,’ said Cole.
He held up a smaller black and white shot. There was a young woman in the picture. She was attractive, maybe aged around mid-thirties. She looked Arabic.
‘Do you know this woman,’ said Cole.
‘Again, I must stress that we operate under very strict …..’
‘Look at the photo,’ Cole shouted at him.
Brandt looked. His eyes gave him away immediately. His mouth opened a little, but no words came out. A nervous twitch had developed just under his left eyebrow, and small beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.
‘I don’t know who this is. How should I know this?….’ Brandt started to say.
‘Let’s cut the crap,’ said Cole. ‘As you say, you don’t have much time. Now the Sharia authorities would be very interested if I gave them this picture. Just remind me, what is the punishment under Islamic law for adultery? I think the woman would be stoned to death. Whereas you, well you might just get away with fifty lashes. So, you decide. Which of these two pictures do you want to talk to me about?’
Twenty minutes later Cole and Hedge were back in the car.
‘How did you get on?’ said Fuller.
‘The manager was surprisingly cooperative,’ said Cole.
‘As were your mates at MI5, I’m guessing,’ said Hedge.
Cole winked at him in response.
Cole then explained to Fuller what he had learnt. The manager did know the man in the photograph, although the name he had used to set up the accounts was likely to be false. However, Cole would send the name over to a colleague in London anyway, to see if they had any further information on him. He had also volunteered some additional details, maybe because the photo of the woman that Cole had showed him had made him very anxious. He informed them that there was another man who had previously come into the bank with the German. The manager knew him as Tariq, that’s all. Cole sent this name over to his contact in London also.
It turned out that a large part of the blackmail proceeds had in fact been deposited in this particular bank, but two days ago all the accounts had been cleared completely, and the money electronically transferred to a set of numbered accounts in the British Virgin Islands. That was where they needed to go next.
‘I like the idea of that. All those virgins just waiting for us
,’ said Fuller.
They all laughed. Humour took away some of the stress of working on a job like this. They were all still in shock after receiving the parcel containing one of Angel’s body parts. They could only imagine what might have happened to him.
Fuller fired up the car and drove them back to the hotel.
Chapter Thirty Six
They boarded an Emirates Airline flight from Dubai to Florida the following morning. There were no direct flights to the British Virgin Islands, so instead they had to change planes at Miami and then again in Puerto Rico. The last two legs of the journey were on flights operated by American Airlines.
Cole had arranged with the British Embassy in Dubai for their baggage to be given diplomatic status for the journey. When this request was initially queried by a nervous looking official, he had simply called a Downing Street number and had his authority sanctioned. This meant that their luggage would not be searched during the journey. They would hopefully be the only passengers on the plane carrying firearms.
Cole again sat next to Hedge on the flight to Miami. He was stressed and needed something to distract him. ‘So tell me some more about this boarding school of yours. Did you meet any interesting girls during your time there?’
Hedge laughed. ‘Yes a few,’ he said. ‘None very serious though. There was one particular person, but she wasn’t actually a student at the school.’
‘So a proper girlfriend, by the sounds of it then,’ said Cole. ‘Do tell me more,’
‘Not a girlfriend, rather just a special lady who gave me some lovely memories. No, I am not going to tell you about her, so give it up.’
Cole let it go. ‘Ok, tell me some more about these senior boys then. Got any more of those bullying experiences? The last one was pretty hilarious.’
‘Not very funny if you were there at the time,’ said Hedge. ‘There is one story you might like, knowing now what a sadist you are.’
‘Start talking then,’ said Cole as he leant back in his seat.
Hedge relayed an episode from his third year at Upperdale. One particular morning, he had drunk more than his fair share of milk at the breakfast table. The senior boy on the same table had punished Hedge by making him drink all the remaining milk, and then locking him in a cupboard for the rest of the morning. The senior had even tied a handkerchief tightly around Hedge’s penis to prevent him from pissing. Hedge had been in terrible pain. It had felt like his bladder was going to explode. He had eventually been released from his torment, but not before he had broken down in tears.
He never put milk on his cereal for the rest of his time at Upperdale. In fact, since that day, he had rarely drunk milk at all. Over the next few years, several people asked him why, but he just shrugged and said he didn’t like the taste.
Cole listened to the story with great interest. When Hedge had finished, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand it was quite funny, but he sympathised with the pain, which must have been unbearable.
‘There were some very pleasant boys at your school,’ he said sarcastically, and laughed. ‘Now I need a piss myself.’ He unbuckled his seat belt, stood up, and headed off down the aisle in search of the toilet.
Chapter Thirty Seven
They finally arrived at the small airport in Tortola – the main island in the group known as the British Virgin Islands, or BVI for short. The airport was basic, and the arrivals hall was essentially a large shed. In the nearby, dusty car park they found a smiling taxi driver and allowed themselves to be ushered into his ten year old Mercedes.
The capital of Tortola was a small place called Road Town. To call it a capital was overstating it, as the whole island population was only around thirty thousand souls.
The BVI was well known for two things.
Firstly, people came here from all over for the world for the excellent sailing that was on offer. There were top class yachts available for rental, and the cruising between the many islands in the group was simply exquisite. The only caveat was that hire craft were not allowed near the large island of Anegada, as it was surrounded by fierce coral reefs, and many novice sailors had lost boats in this area. In recent times this rule has been relaxed, due to the availability of good quality satellite navigation systems.
The second, and arguably the most important thing that the BVI was known for, was offshore finance. There are literally hundreds of thousands of companies and trusts set up in the BVI jurisdiction, largely because of the tax benefits of doing so. The manager of the bank they had visited in Dubai had told them that the funds his organisation had been holding had been transferred here. He was unable to say which particular institution the money had been sent to as the transfer had been to the BVI central clearing bank, and from there it would then pass it on to its final destination. Everything was done with specific codes, as secrecy was of the utmost importance. So tracking down where the money had ultimately been transferred to would be a difficult challenge.
They spent the first two days in Road Town going round some of the larger Trust companies to see if any of the staff recognised Anna or the German from the photos they were shown. Hedge had a few contacts from his work back in London, and he looked these people up first. Not surprisingly perhaps, they got no positive responses. Banking is a confidential business at the best of times, but these offshore tax havens operate on another level entirely. The people they approached were reluctant to give them any information at all.
On the morning of the third day they were all getting a little frustrated. The weather didn’t help as it was over thirty five degrees and incredibly humid. They were constantly stopping to get drinks, as every time they walked for more than ten minutes they seemed to become completely dehydrated. They decided to stop for an early lunch at a small cafe overlooking a marina at a place simply called the Fish Bar. Cole ordered a swordfish dish, but the other two settled for the classic BVI offering of chicken and rice.
The wind was blowing onshore and it cooled them as they sat and enjoyed the view. The smell of salt, fish, and ripe mangos wafted onto the terrace where they sat. It would have been a perfect place for a holiday Hedge thought to himself as he tucked into his fried chicken.
Fuller looked like he was in a bad mood and he ate without saying very much.
‘How about we take tomorrow morning off and have a little fun while we’re here,’ he eventually suggested. ‘We could go sea diving, it’s supposed to be very good in these waters.’
‘Good idea Fuller. You go too,’ Cole looked at Hedge as he replied. ‘You can keep an eye on him and make sure he stays out of trouble. I’ve got a few more leads to follow up in town here, and I need to make contact with London again.’
He was going to make a joke about keeping clear of sharks, but then he remembered seeing the terribly mutilated body part belonging to Angel, and he stopped himself.
Hedge nodded, and agreed to go along. He had completed a basic diving course while on holiday in Egypt a few years earlier. He still had his PADI diver’s card.
Fuller seemed to cheer up a little. He was a keen diver and was looking forward to the experience tomorrow. They agreed to all meet up again later in the day, after the diving.
First thing next morning Hedge and Fuller found a local dive operator, and managed to get a place on a vessel going out at ten o’clock. They stood together near the front of the boat as it headed out to sea from Road Town. The craft bounced gently as it cut through the waves. It was another hot Caribbean day, and their fellow divers that morning were, like them, dressed simply in shorts and T-shirts. They would change into wet suits once they had reached the dive site.
The trip leader today was a man called Joe Jackson. He was a native Virgin Islander, or at least he had been ever since his distant relatives were brought over from West Africa in a slave ship. He was a tall man with well-toned limbs. When he smiled his mouth seemed to overflow with clean white teeth, in stark contrast to the dark colouring of his face. He had told them that he
had completed over two hundred dives, mostly in this area of the Caribbean, but also in other parts of the world.
They were heading for an area known for having several old shipwrecks. One of these was of particular interest as local rumour said it was believed to have been carrying a large cargo of gold back to Spain during the period of the conquistadors. It had sunk in a fierce storm, apparently with no survivors. Many divers had explored the wreck of course, but no gold had ever been found. Hedge thought that maybe it was just a story to attract tourists to the site.
The boat stopped and Joe pressed a button on the console to put down the anchor. He then raised a small pennant at the top of the aerial mast which indicated to other nearby craft that there were divers in the water.
There was a small island about two hundred metres away from the boat. Joe had explained that this was known as Dead Chest Island. It was here that Captain Hook had buried a box of treasure, according to the book Treasure Island. Apparently the song ‘Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest, yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum,’ relates to this same place.
There were three other men on the boat along with Hedge, Fuller and Joe. They appeared to be Americans, two middle aged and one in his mid to late twenties. The younger guy was well tanned and wore large framed, designer sunglasses, presumably to protect his eyes from the fierce glare of the sun. He said very little, apart from telling them that his name was Jack. Hedge didn’t pay his fellow divers much attention as he was starting to get nervous about going underwater. It had been a while since he had last dived, and he now wished he had taken a refresher course before heading out to sea with these more experienced guys.
Joe instructed them all to get changed into wet suits and start to sort out their diving equipment. Hedge and Fuller unpacked their gear. Fuller was an expert diver, and he helped Hedge with his kit. Hedge, Fuller and Jack were to dive together for the first thirty minutes. Joe would wait on board the boat with the other two Americans and go underwater when the first three returned.
The Palindrome Cult: A gripping, page-turning, crime suspense thriller, its fast pace takes you from London to New York, via Dubai and the Virgin Islands. (Hedge & Cole Book 1) Page 14
