by Susan Lewis
His heart leapt as he heard the muffled echo of a satellite link. It was her. It was her!
‘Hello?’ he shouted, but after a faint buzzing the line went dead.
He turned as Stirling came to stand in the bedroom doorway, drawing on every ounce of self-control he had to stop himself smashing the receiver into the wall.
‘It might have been Pierre,’ Stirling said.
David nodded and put the receiver back on its base. Yeah, it might have been, but it was rare to get a satellite delay from Hong Kong. Not from Manila, though, so it might have been Penny. It might be that the floor attendant had done what David asked: had slipped a note under her door telling her to stay right where she was, not to try to get away until he got there – and to call him if she could. He’d tried to reach her only minutes ago, but there’d been no reply. She should have been there, though; the boy, Teddy, had told him she was alone in her room. So why hadn’t she answered the phone?
Shaking his head, he turned and walked back to the bathroom. There could be any number of reasons why she hadn’t answered then and even more why she hadn’t spoken just now, but to torment himself with them would serve no purpose. Besides, there was every chance he was fooling himself here. The call might not have been from Penny and, even if it had been, what was there to say that she’d been calling for help? He still had no idea what her feelings were for Mureau, but since she had made no attempt to turn him in he could only conclude that she loved him so much she was prepared to overlook everything just to be with him. That was presuming, of course, that she knew the truth about Mureau. But no, that couldn’t be the case. He was sure, he would stake his life on it, that Mureau had not divulged his connection with David. Maybe it would make no difference to Penny were she to know, but David just couldn’t bring himself to accept that. OK, maybe he was fooling himself again; loving her the way he did and being so god-damned afraid for her, it would be easy to lose sight of his judgement. But he couldn’t just stand by and watch her ruin her life. He had somehow to get her out of there, whether she wanted it or not, and the price he would have to pay for doing so was something he’d think about later.
Turning back, he looked across at Stirling.
‘Do you want to make the call or shall I?’ Stirling asked.
David stood still, tensing with the revulsion of what Stirling was referring to. He knew he had little choice but to go ahead with it now. ‘Do it,’ he said shortly; then, kicking the door closed behind him, he returned to the shower.
Penny looked across the room at Christian. He was standing at the door, reading a note he had just picked up from the floor. Her hand was still on the receiver; her heart was crying with the torment of having heard David’s voice only to have been forced to cut the call short. She slid her hand carefully into her lap, before Christian noticed where it was.
When he’d finished reading the note he pushed it into his pocket and looked up. Penny’s heart turned over as she saw how pale he was.
‘What is it?’ she whispered.
Briefly he shook his head, but as he tried to force himself to smile his mouth twisted and he averted his head.
‘Christian!’ she cried, moving swiftly across the room. ‘What is it? What’s happened? Oh my God,’ she murmured as she took his hands from his face and saw the tears. ‘Christian, please, tell me what’s happened.’
‘It’s no good,’ he said brokenly as he pulled her into his arms. ‘I can’t do this to you. I can’t go on making you suffer like this, I love you too much.’
‘What are you saying?’ she said, gently pulling back to look into his face.
‘You know what I’m saying,’ he answered, trying again to smile. ‘I know you don’t love me, at least not the way you thought you did, and I . . . well, I guess I’m having a hard time coming to terms with it. But I will. I’ll go on alone from here—and you . . . you must go back where you belong.’
Tears were starting in her own eyes now as she looked back at him and felt all the devastation in his heart. ‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know what else to say . . .’
‘Hey,’ he said, forcing a laugh as he pulled her against him again. ‘Come on, don’t you cry too. We’ve known for a little while now that this was going to happen, so let’s both of us try to be brave.’
They walked quietly over to the bed together and sat down facing each other. Endless minutes ticked by as he looked at her, tracing her face with his eyes as though imprinting it on his memory. When at last he spoke, his voice was choked with emotion. ‘There’s a plane that will take you directly to London,’ he told her. ‘It leaves Manila four days from now. Will you stay until then?’
She reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek.
He caught her hand and squeezed it tightly. ‘Don’t say no,’ he whispered. ‘Please, don’t say no.’
Right at that moment she wasn’t sure she could leave him at all. ‘Won’t it make things harder if I stay?’ she said, knowing it would for her.
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘But . . .’ He looked down at their hands and linked her fingers through his. ‘I can’t lie to you, Penny,’ he said, ‘not any more. If I let you go now the people Benny Lao works for will catch up with you before you even get to the airport. The only reason they haven’t taken you so far is because the threat of them doing it is enough to make me do as they’re asking.’
‘And what – what are they asking?’ she said.
He laughed mirthlessly and turned his face to the window. ‘One more shipment,’ he answered.
When she didn’t speak, he brought his eyes back to hers and lifted a hand to stroke her cheek.
‘I lied to you,’ he said, ‘about everything. There have been other heroin shipments too. Not many, nothing like the marijuana, but they were there. And the Triads? You were right, Lao is . . . No, it’s better you don’t know who he is. His superiors know the risk they’re running by using me this time when the DEA is closing in on me, but they’re prepared to take it in exchange for getting me to a place where no one will ever find me, where I can never tell what I know.’
‘Is that what you want?’ Penny said, her heart aching with pity. ‘I mean, isn’t that just a prison of another sort?’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. But in time, with a new identity, a new face, I can start a new life. That’s got to be better than twenty-five years in any prison, even a federal one.’
Penny looked away, moving her eyes over the delicate cane furniture and glass-topped tables. ‘Is that what you were doing out on the pier?’ she said. ‘Organizing the next shipment?’
‘Yes,’ he answered, showing no surprise that she’d seen him. ‘The crew are flying in from Stockholm in three days’ time. We’ll sail on the fourth.’
‘To where?’
He smiled. ‘It’s better you don’t know that either,’ he told her. ‘But I won’t stay with it for long. Another ship will be waiting for me to take me . . .’ Again he smiled, then closed his eyes to hide the pain.
‘Oh God,’ Penny groaned, pulling him into her arms. ‘This is all my fault. I should never have led you—’
‘No! Stop!’ he said sharply. ‘None of this is your fault, Penny! Remember that. The crimes were committed before I met you and the decision not to go in was mine and mine alone. So, please, don’t ever blame yourself. Promise me you’ll never do that.’
Swallowing hard, she stroked his hair and held him close. She couldn’t make the promise, but to tell him that would only serve to make his guilt worse.
‘I love you,’ he said, tears fracturing his voice again. ‘Letting you go will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face, but—’ He stopped suddenly and wrenched himself away. ‘Shit, what am I doing here? Don’t listen to me, I’ll have myself together . . .’
‘It’s all right,’ she said softly. ‘I understand. It’s going to be hard for me too.’
He walked to the window and stood there, staring out at the ves
sel that even now was being prepared for its next voyage.
‘If you stay,’ he said quietly, ‘there will be no question about your safety. I’ve done everything they’ve asked of me and will continue to right up to the end. Once I’ve gone, Benny Lao will return to Hong Kong and you will be free to board the plane to London.’ He turned to face her; then, unable to meet her eyes, he looked to one side. ‘There is just one thing I have to ask you to do,’ he said. ‘On Sunday evening, the night before your flight, I need you to take a telephone call for me. It will come here, to the hotel, and it will be followed by another. The first will be Benny Lao giving the go-ahead to sail. The second will be from the skipper of the—’ He stopped, realizing he had almost given the name of the ship. ‘Will be either from the skipper of the boat taking the shipment or from me,’ he said. ‘All you have to do is relay Lao’s message, then as far as you are concerned it will all be over.’
‘But why can’t Lao call you direct?’ she said, unable to disguise her reluctance to play any part at all.
He looked at her for some time; then, sliding his hands into his pockets, he turned back to gaze out at the bay. ‘He could,’ he said finally. ‘But this is his way of getting you involved, to make sure that you’re never tempted to go to anyone with what you know. I’m sorry,’ he added. ‘It was the best I could do. If Lao had had his way, then . . . Well, you don’t need to know what he wanted you to do.’
‘And if I say I want to go now?’ she said.
‘Then I’ll do everything in my power to help you,’ he answered, turning back to her. ‘It would be a risk, one hell of a risk, and we’d both very likely end up losing our lives. But if that’s what you want, to go now . . .’
He left the sentence unfinished and watched as Penny got up and walked into the bathroom.
She was gone for some time and when she came back she found him slumped in a chair, his head buried in his hands. As she came to stand beside him he looked up and her heart tightened with pity when she saw the utter hopelessness in his eyes.
‘I’ll stay,’ she said, reaching for his hand.
His eyes closed and he circled her waist with his arms. ‘Oh God, Penny,’ he sobbed, ‘how am I ever going to let you go?’
Chapter 20
MORE THAN FORTY-EIGHT hours had gone by since Penny had cut short her call. A few well-placed pesos, dished out by Stirling’s contacts at the American Embassy in Manila, had got David the confirmation he was seeking: that his number had been dialled from room 1514 early on Wednesday afternoon – seven in the morning French time.
During those interminable two days David and Stirling had taken little time out for sleep as they’d made endless calls around the world, striking one deal after another, sending millions of dollars in cash and assets back to the United States in their negotiations for David’s downfall. David was resigned to it now and only wished it could be over. The bitter irony of it was that the only thing that would be left at the end of it was Penny’s magazine. That was how he thought of it now, as her magazine. But would she ever come back for it? Would she even want it if she did?
He almost laughed. That he could be thinking that way in light of the disaster he was facing was incredible. Even more incredible was the fact that it was for her that he was doing it all. His fists clenched as a bolt of anger passed through him. Who was he kidding? He was doing it because she’d left him no choice. He loved her, damn it, but were he to see her right now he’d be more likely to wring her neck than wrap her in his arms.
Wearily he got up from the sofa and wandered over to the window. There was no point in venting his fury on Penny, for the only one to blame here was himself. He should have been straight with her from the beginning, should have told her who Stirling really was and why he was here in France. But he hadn’t, so it was just a question now of striking the right deals in order to salvage something that would make his and his sons’ lives worth living when it was all over.
He’d spoken to Gabriella the night before. It had been a difficult conversation, fraught with accusations and fear. He was sure the money meant more to her than he did, though she’d denied it. She’d sworn she still loved him, that she was prepared to start over if he’d give them the chance, but he hadn’t committed. He was in no position to commit anyway, not until he had sorted out this mess with Penny. After that he would be in Stirling’s hands.
He looked across to where Stirling had planted himself on a hardbacked chair. He looked the way David felt, just about all in. They’d been waiting for this one call for over four hours now and it could be that they had another four to go. It was a call that David wouldn’t mind waiting the rest of his life for, even though it was one that, ultimately, might just bring Penny to her senses. He wondered what she was doing now. He knew she was still at the Manila Hotel and the idea that she might be making love with Mureau made his stomach churn with jealousy and frustration. In truth he’d never been more furious with anyone in his life, but it didn’t stop him loving her. He doubted anything was going to do that even though he knew there was no future for them. But he wasn’t going to let himself think that way, for who could say what the next few days would bring?
It was early the following morning when the telephone finally rang, rousing Stirling from an unsteady and noisy slumber. As his head came up from his chest his bleary eyes fixed themselves on David’s. David held the look, then turned to the phone.
‘David?’ a scratchy male voice demanded.
‘Yeah, it’s me,’ David answered, moving his eyes back to Stirling.
Stirling leaned forward and stabbed the button to turn on the speaker.
‘We’ve found the sister,’ the voice announced into the room. ‘She’s working charter boats out of Antigua.’
‘How soon can you get there?’ David asked flatly.
‘Couple of hours.’
‘OK, you know what you’ve got to do. I’m trusting you on this, so don’t blow it.’
‘When did I ever?’ There was a smirk in the voice. ‘I’ll keep in touch,’ and the line went dead.
David’s face was white as he put down the phone.
‘OK,’ Stirling said, stretching. ‘It’s gonna be a while yet, so I’m gonna get something to eat. Care to join me?’
‘No,’ David responded. He wasn’t proud of what he was doing; his appetite was dead.
When Stirling reached the door he turned back. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ he said gruffly. ‘It could work out.’
David’s eyes were hard as he looked at him ‘For whom?’ he said.
The corner of Stirling’s mouth pinched in a smile. ‘I reckon maybe all of us,’ he said.
The ambiguity of that remark sat with David for a long time after Stirling had gone. In the end, considering all that Stirling already had and given his current mood of compliance, David decided to allow himself a quiet optimism. It lasted only as long as it took the telephone to ring again, bringing him the very news he didn’t want to hear.
‘They checked out late last night,’ the DEA agent in Manila told him.
‘What do you mean, checked out?’ David cried. ‘I thought you were watching them.’
‘We were,’ the agent confirmed, ‘but they managed to give us the slip.’
David’s head was spinning. ‘So where did they go?’ he said through his teeth.
‘We’re still working on that. I’ll get back to you as soon as we know more.’
David banged down the phone. Then, out of sheer fury, he slammed it against the wall. Everything, just everything, had depended on them staying at the Manila Hotel and the fact that they hadn’t could only mean that Mureau had got wind of the DEA’s presence.
‘Hey,’ Christian said, pulling Penny into his arms, ‘you’ve gone quiet on me. What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking,’ she said, smiling sadly as she gazed out at the sunlight dancing across the lake, ‘that I’m going to miss you. But I guess I shouldn’t be saying that.’
‘No,’ he sighed, ‘I guess you shouldn’t, but it makes me feel good to hear it.’ Dropping his forehead against hers he rested it there a while, then he too turned to gaze out at the lake.
From where they were standing, at the end of a small, concrete jetty, they couldn’t see where the Laguna joined the Pasig River. But neither of them had any trouble imagining the boat that would come for him that night to ferry him, under cover of darkness, along the winding stretch of the Pasig and out into the vast South China Sea, to rendezvous with the waiting ship.
‘Are you sure it’s going to be safe?’ she said. ‘I mean, if the DEA were watching us in Manila . . .’
‘Shh,’ he said softly. ‘Let me worry about that.’
Penny turned to look at him, moving her eyes over the gentle contours of his face and feeling her heart fold around the anguish and uncertainty. ‘What time will you leave?’ she whispered.
Leaning forward he kissed her gently on the lips. ‘Don’t let’s think about that now,’ he said. ‘We’ve only got this short time left to us, so why don’t we at least try to enjoy it?’
Penny gave a wry laugh. ‘That’s a tall order,’ she said, linking hands with him as they turned back down the jetty towards the remote, decrepit little fishing village it served.
The sun was beating down on them and the air was thick with flies buzzing around the rotting debris of dead fish and sewage that lapped the eroded edges of the pier. The stench of burning garbage carried on a listless breeze over the narrow, squalid streets, where thin, leathery-skinned fishermen and their families went about their business. They were no more than an hour or so’s drive from the noisy, overcrowded metropolis of Manila, but it could have been another country, another world even.
‘It’s hard to imagine what it must be like to live like this,’ she said, pausing to watch the unloading of an outrigger that had just come in from the fishing pens. A line quickly formed as the fish were dumped into baskets and carried to the waiting lorries. ‘I wonder how often they see Westerners out here?’
