Deadly Deceit: Jess Turner in the Caribbean (Diplomatic Crime Book 2)

by Jean Harrod

  “Looks like it.”

  “Not before time,” he snapped.

  “It cost him his life,” she said, simply.

  She saw a fleeting look of panic in Charles’s eyes that she didn’t quite understand. She had to find out what else he knew. “How did you find out about the sloops?” she asked.

  “The US is just across the water. Do you think we’d let this Territory operate without knowing everything that goes on here?”

  Jess wasn’t surprised, but a question hung in her mind that needed an answer. “Did you tell the British Government?”

  He hesitated. “It was sensitive, with the Governor... implicated.”

  She frowned, unable quite to believe what he’d said. “If you’d told them, they’d have stopped this madness.”

  He shrugged. “For all we knew, they might have sponsored it. No country can cope with thousands and thousands of migrants pitching up on their shores.”

  “Oh come on!” He couldn’t be serious, could he? “Our Government couldn’t get away with that. Not with our media and NGOs on their case all the time.”

  He looked at her, unconvinced. “That’s not what brought me down here in a professional capacity, not at first anyway. We were worried about shady financing being laundered through your British tax havens, and its connection to terrorism.” He stood up and pushed the chair under the table. “Now I have to go and find Brad.”

  “And what about Sally?” Jess said, crossly. “All your brother cares about is that bloody sunken galleon. He was so angry with Sally for telling me about it, he wouldn’t speak to her. That’s why she’s been running around in this hurricane looking for him.”

  Charles started pacing around. “Brad’s obsessed with that shipwreck. Not that he told me about it. My colleagues found out.”

  “He’d have needed a lot of money to find that wreck,” she said, pointedly, “and a whole lot more to get the bullion off the seabed.”

  Charles stopped pacing and stared at her. “I haven’t given him any money, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

  “So, who’s bankrolling him, then?” Immediately she asked that question, she knew the answer.

  “Oh my God! You think Brad’s involved in all this, don’t you? That’s why you’re so upset. You think he was being paid off, and using the money for that shipwreck.”

  “Yes. It’s what I’m afraid of,” he said, quietly.

  There was a pause.

  “Tell me honestly, Charles. Do you have any idea who killed Mrs Pearson, or why?”

  He shook his head. “I really don’t know.”

  But she could see the fear in his eyes. He was terrified it was his brother. She took a deep breath. “The Governor’s housekeeper, Maggie, was murdered last night... in the same way as Mrs Pearson.”

  “Jesus!” His face crumpled.

  Jess could hardly speak the words. “I found her in the attic in the Residence. She was hanging by her bound feet from the beam.”

  Charles turned ashen, and sank down onto a chair.

  “Her throat was cut too.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jess,” he whispered. “Have you told the police?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Tom’s back at the Residence with them now.”

  Charles got up slowly, like an old man rising from his chair. “I must go and find Brad.” He turned to her. “If you have any idea where he might be, please tell me?”

  She nodded. “I followed his truck up here in the hope of finding Sally, but I lost him before I turned in here.”

  Charles stared at her. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

  There was a pause. “I think I know where he was going,” she added.

  “Where? Please! My family are everything to me.”

  “The lighthouse.” She jumped as a clap of thunder reverberated overhead. “Quick. We don’t have much time.”

  40

  Jess glanced over at Charles’s face as he gripped the steering wheel. Did she believe everything he’d just told her? She certainly believed he loved Rebekah, and cared deeply for his brother. But there was something about him that made Jess wary. Intelligence officers always had their own agenda.

  Jess glanced over her shoulder for that motorbike. No sign of it.

  Charles drove fast towards the lighthouse, talking as they went. “The Islanders are terrified of voodoo, especially with all this talk of pets being sacrificed, and Mrs Pearson’s murder.”

  “So terrified, they daren’t talk about it.”

  “Ah. So you think it’s all nonsense too? A means of silencing everyone?”

  She thought of the woman in the Provo restaurant who’d tried to warn her. “You can pull the wool over people’s eyes for a while, but some brave soul will always step forward.”

  He went on: “It must have been a terrible shock, finding Maggie like that?”

  “It was.” Jess rubbed her eyes as if trying to erase the vision of Maggie hanging from the beam. She wouldn’t tell Charles about the children’s nursery and sedatives in the attic. Not yet anyway. She refused to believe Maggie was harming children. “I don’t think we can dismiss voodoo completely,” she went on. “I saw what looked like a ceremony on the beach the other evening, just along from the Governor’s Residence. An ideal spot. Very isolated.”

  He glanced over. “Was my brother there?”

  “Why would Brad be there?”

  There was a pause. “I found a book about voodoo in his house.”

  “Really?”

  “I know Brad can be impressionable. It got him into trouble when he was younger. Drugs. Gangs. That kind of thing. He put that all behind him when he came down here. Seemed happy at last. That’s why I put up the money for the dive business.”

  “I see.” Jess’s mind turned back to the Governor. She wanted to find out if Charles knew anything more. “Tell me,” she said. “Why do you think the Governor allowed that Inquiry to determine that the sinking of both of those sloops was accidental?”

  “Around two million dollars, we think. We’re still tracing the transactions.”

  “Oh God.” Jess sat stunned for a moment before getting her head around the wider issues. “Do you think the officials who carried out the Inquiry were taking... incentives too?”

  He shook his head. “No, but they would rely heavily on the testimony of the Governor and his Ministers. And any local witnesses come to that.” He paused. “And it’s difficult to determine foul play, particularly when the weather’s bad, and no other vessels are involved.”

  “But two million dollars?” she repeated. “Where does that kind of money come from down here?”

  “Selling off land to foreign developers to build luxury hotels and condos on Provo. Some outlying islands too. It’s big money.” He pulled a face. “Tourism’s where the money is. The islanders want to become an exclusive destination.”

  “From what I’ve seen, they already are on Provo.”

  “Yes, but thousands of migrants turning up uninvited isn’t part of their plan.”

  “No, I suppose not.” Jess’s heart felt heavy as she sat thinking about the Governor. Why would he do something like that? Did he think he’d get away with it? Did he really believe it would just be those two sloops? That it wouldn’t happen again? Her mind went back to the money. “Who controls the sale and revenue of that land?” she asked.

  “The Governor and his local Ministers,” Charles replied. “We don’t think they were involved in the scuppering of sloops, just in the conspiracy of silence.” He went on: “We believe one influential local man instigated all this. He’s very charismatic. He persuaded everyone the migrants had to be stopped from reaching shore. It wasn’t difficult. People are afraid of being overrun, of losing their homes and jobs. Of course once this man had drawn the Governor in, he got bolder and the violence escalated.”

  Jess didn’t need Charles to tell her who that local man was. “You’re talking about Roger Pearson, aren’t you?”

  �
�Ah, so you know about Roger, then?”

  “I’m just putting the pieces of the puzzle together.” She hesitated. “I can’t believe he’d get his hands dirty though. Not his style.”

  Charles’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

  Jess could feel his tension and understood why. “You think Roger’s drawn your brother into his plot too, in return for money to salvage that shipwreck.”

  Charles pulled up outside the lighthouse fence and pointed to a parked truck. “That’s Brad’s!” He jumped out, ran over, and opened the passenger door. There was no-one inside. He slammed the door shut again and raced over to the lighthouse. The door opened when he turned the handle. He beckoned to Jess, and disappeared inside.

  As Jess went to get out of the car, the wind almost pushed her back inside. It was fierce now. Steeling herself, she ran over to the lighthouse, and went inside. A black, cast iron spiral staircase greeted her. It was a long way up to the observation tower.

  “Brad?” Charles called out from the foot of the staircase. “You up there?”

  No reply.

  “Anyone up there?” he shouted again.

  “Let’s go and take a look.” Jess started up the stairs. “If Brad’s here, Sally will be too.” She could hear Charles clumping up behind her. She didn’t look round, or say anything else. She needed all her energy to climb up there.

  Her leg muscles were burning when she reached the top. She bent over double to get her breath back.

  When Charles arrived, panting and puffing, Jess was already looking out at a staggering sight. On the horizon, an angry violet, red and black sky encircled the island, with streaks of lightning flashing all around. Through windows blurred by rain, she saw waves pounding the north-west reef. Nearer shore, the water was calmer, but grey.

  On the observation platform, two camp beds were folded up on one side, with a black bin bag next to them. Peering inside the bag, she saw two sleeping bags. “Someone’s being staying here.” She went over and opened some cupboards. Tins of food, candles, and other provisions were neatly lined up.

  Charles’s hand shook as he held up a waterproof jacket. “It’s Brad’s.”

  She nodded. “This needs no explanation, does it?”

  He shook his head. “I can’t believe Brad would switch off the lights, and allow sloops to run aground on the reef.”

  Jess couldn’t believe Sally would either. Was her love for Brad that blind? She walked over to a telescope and looked through it. The sight of the hurricane coming was menacing, yet strangely beautiful. She moved the telescope over the reef, back to the cliff and to the rocks below. Tom must have been crazy to try and get down there, she thought. Now, through the scope, she could see a path running along the cliff top, and further along, a small trail that led down to a beach.

  A movement caught her eye. Two figures were hurrying along the cliff path, carrying large boxes. She magnified the lens. “There they are!” She swivelled the telescope to the beach below, where a boat was moored to a wall built out into the sea, like a jetty. The boat was much bigger than Brad’s usual dive boats. “They’re going down to the beach.”

  “Where?” Charles elbowed her out of the way and looked through the telescope.

  “They’re on that cliff path. There’s a trail leading off it, down to the beach.” Jess stared out the window. “Is that Brad’s boat moored along the sea wall? Looks sea-going, with a cabin and everything.”

  Charles swivelled the telescope from Sally and Brad, to the boat. “For Chrissakes! They’ll be killed out there.” He turned, and started running down the stairs.

  “Wait!”

  “I’m going after them!” he shouted back.

  Jess followed.

  He was well ahead of her as they ran round and round the spiral staircase. She was getting dizzy going down at such speed.

  He reached the door first, flung it open and ran outside.

  The sound of two rapid gunshots rang out. Jess froze. She pressed her back against the wall, shuffled along to the door, and peered round to see outside.

  Charles lay motionless on the ground.

  Roger Pearson stood over him, gun in hand. He looked up at Jess, and raised his arm...

  “Drop the gun!” a familiar voice barked.

  Dexter! The Police Commissioner stood a few yards behind Roger, pointing a gun at his back. Jess held her breath.

  “Throw the gun on the floor, Roger!” Dexter shouted. “I’ll shoot you if I have to.”

  Jess could see the sneer on Roger’s face, as he turned to face the Police Commissioner. “You don’t have the guts, Dexter!”

  “It’s over, Roger.” Dexter’s voice was clear, but calm. “No-one here supports you any more. We’re all ashamed of you. And even more ashamed of ourselves for not standing up to you before.”

  “Huh! You won’t shoot me, Dexter. You’re as gutless as that Governor.”

  Dexter continued in his calm voice. “I know you drove that truck into his car. You wanted him dead because he was about to have you arrested. But you drove away too quickly.”

  Roger’s arm slackened and he lowered his gun.

  “Who do you think pulled him out of that burning car alive?” the Police Commissioner went on.

  “You?”

  “After you’d driven off.” Dexter paused. “He’d already confessed to me earlier that day, you see.”

  “You’re lying!”

  Dexter shook his head. “The Governor asked to be allowed to tell his wife and to make arrangements for his family, before handing himself in. I agreed to that. His mistake was having the decency to warn you what he was about to do. So you killed him. But what he didn’t tell you, is that he’d already told me.”

  “The fool!” Roger spat.

  Dexter shook his head. “He was a decent man before he listened to you. Like poor Clement, he was racked with guilt afterwards. He’d taken to driving up to the lighthouse every night to make sure the light was on. He couldn’t live with any more deaths on his conscience.”

  “Listen to me, Dexter,” Roger shouted to be heard over the wind. “With me in charge of these islands, we could be independent. A great nation for the whole world to come and enjoy. We’ll have jobs, wealth, a good living for our people. Your family will be rich. Back me now, and you’ll be powerful. I promise you that.”

  Jess held her breath, wondering if Dexter could be persuaded. He was the only one who could stop this now.

  “No, Roger,” Dexter said, firmly. “I don’t want to live in a country with you as President. No-one does. People here know you only care about getting power and money for yourself.” Still his voice was calm and even. “Now, drop the gun!”

  Roger’s whole frame tensed. “You’re a spineless fool, Dexter,” he shouted as he raised his gun.

  Dexter fired first. The bullet hit Roger in the middle of his forehead. He spun round with the force of the impact to face Jess before collapsing to the ground. The surprise on his face was matched by the anguish on Dexter’s, as he walked over to where Roger lay, picked up the gun, and bent down to look for any sign of life. He shook his head after a moment and stood up.

  Jess ran over to Charles, and knelt beside him. When she pressed her fingers to his neck, she felt a faint throb. “He’s still alive,” she shouted.

  “I’ll radio for back-up.” Dexter started back to his police car.

  Jess saw a motorbike lying close by. So, it was Roger who’d been following her. He must have shot at Tom from the cliff yesterday. He would have killed her too, if he’d had the chance.

  She shouted back to Dexter: “Sally and Brad are heading down to the beach. There’s a boat moored down there. I’m going to stop them. They’ll be killed out there.” She turned and started running along the gravel path towards the cliff.

  “Jess!” Dexter shouted. “It’s too dangerous...”

  But Jess carried on running. The wind and sea-spray were blowing her backwards, but she battled on. She could see
Sally and Brad nearing the jetty. “Sally!” she shouted. But the wind just carried her words back to land.

  The going was wet underfoot on the cliff path, and even more treacherous on the trail down to the beach. She slipped and slid her way along, holding her arms out for balance. Suddenly, her foot twisted and she tumbled down the rest of the track, onto soft sand. She lay on the beach for a few moments, dazed, then she sat up. Sally and Brad were just stepping onto the boat. Ignoring her sore ankle, she pulled herself up. “Sally!” she shouted again, as she part ran, part hobbled along the beach.

  This time they heard her, and turned to look.

  Sally waved.

  The punch from Brad came from nowhere, sending Sally reeling back onto the deck.

  Jess gasped with shock. She ran along the jetty wall and clambered onto the boat, where Sally was struggling with Brad.

  Jess tried to pull him off, but he lashed out, winding her.

  Suddenly the door of the cabin opened. Carrie stepped out, gun in hand. “Stop!” she shouted.

  Jess froze. “Carrie?” she whispered in disbelief.

  Carrie smiled. “Get in the cabin! Both of you!”

  Sally looked from Carrie to Brad. “What’s going on?”

  Brad responded by pushing her and Jess roughly through the cabin door.

  “Sit on the floor!” Carrie barked, as if shouting at her school kids. “Hands on heads!”

  When they were on the floor, Sally moved her hand to her cheek and looked at Brad in bewilderment. But she had the sense to stay quiet.

  Carrie smiled at him. “Are you going to tell her, or shall I?”

  Sally looked from Brad to Carrie. “How long have you been carrying on with her?” she asked.

  Brad smiled at Carrie. “For ever!”

  While Carrie and Brad were tormenting Sally, Jess was desperately looking around. They appeared to be on a sea-going cruiser. There were two berths, the sitting area where they were, and a tiny kitchen. She looked along the surfaces for any knives. None. It seemed their only escape would be back out the door Brad had pushed them through. She studied the door. It seemed to fold into four segments that would open up the entire rear of the boat if needed.