Last Witness

by Glen Carter

  “And?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve spent most of the night wandering through Sevier’s bank account.”

  “You’re serious,” Jack said.

  “Of course, my friend.”

  The account was full of cash, Mesner told him. It was clear that Sevier had more money than he would ever need. But there was also something else, which had drawn Mesner’s suspicion because of the numbers involved. “And the timing.”

  “Two things, actually.” Mesner said. “Wire transfers of a ton of cash.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “A hundred and fifty grand to an account at Great Florida Bank in Little Havana.”

  “When?”

  “A day or so.”

  “The account holder?”

  “That’s going to takemore work. Right now all I have are transit and account numbers for the Miami bank.”

  A day or so. That meant something. He’d discuss his theories when he briefed Malloy. For now, he filed it away. “And?”

  “Sevier wired three and a half million dollars, which was without doubt, the largest transaction showing in the account for as far back as the records are accessible.”

  “When?”

  “Very recently.”

  Jack knew the answer but he asked anyway. “To whom?”

  “More work there too. But I do know to where.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Russia, Jack, or more specifically, Moscow. It works out to about a hundred million rubles, give or take a few kopecks.”

  38

  So much money.

  Poole gazed at the glowing screen and repeated the number in his head, rolled it across his tongue, savoured it. He wasn’t obscenely rich, but rich enough. He’d worked hard for it as an instrument of greed, or fear, or vengeance. There was no end to the despots, the corporate princes. And, of course, the intelligence agencies. He was paid well, though eventually he’d retreat to a quieter life. Maybe now would be a good time. Much more money was coming.

  The laptop was connected to his satellite phone, the light blinking in a steady rhythm. Poole thought about Siena. A hundred acres of land upon which a farmhouse stood. It needed work, but how else was a gentleman widower to spend his days. Maybe he’d find a good woman, someone who wasn’t interested in his past. He imagined her with a son in her belly. Poole was still a young man with a physique the envy of men half his age. Touches of grey at the temples and deep-set dark eyes added an aura of mystery that made him desirable to brazen women.

  Poole logged out of his account and powered down his equipment. Lying there, he wondered what the night might hold. Possibly a walk through Old Havana where the whores were thick as flies. Maybe the old sea wall where the scent of salt air was heaviest and made him think of the Black Sea. He pulled himself up and after a moment stepped quietly into the hallway. He would walk the maze of narrow streets that crisscrossed the old city. He would cling to the shadows, avoiding the bars and restaurants of Havana Veija. Though he knew the whores would find him. Their hands tugging. Lips parting with offers of sex. When he found one who didn’t make him sick, he would allow her to pull him into some dark place. Then he would satisfy the urges that could distract a man. Poole smiled faintly. In truth, he had no concerns about being able to focus when the time demanded it.

  39

  They were long-legged beauties with gleaming smiles and dark seductive eyes. Jack didn’t know how the lanky Texan had fit into their lives, but it seemed to be a happy reunion. Even Seth had managed to cleave one off.

  Maria shook her head in disgust, said goodnight, and without a backward glance boarded the elevator for a good night’s rest.

  Jack collected Malloy from the bar and by the time they got to the sidewalk outside the hotel, Kaitlin was being helped into a horse drawn carriage.

  “How about it?” she said. “He says we can see everything there is to see and it’ll take less than an hour. Malloy, you sit up front.”

  At first, Malloy resisted.

  “Come on. You can keep the driver company.”

  “Yes,madam.” Malloy surrendered. He struggled onto the rickety seat next to the horseman who had to be no more than sixteen.

  Jack hopped into the back and wrapped his arm around Kaitlin.

  The kid clucked his tongue and the horse was off at a steady clop. The carriage crossed two lanes of traffic and a moment later they were rolling along a narrow cobblestone street.

  The kid wore baggy black pants and a white shirt. A monstrous tie swung from his neck to the seat. Dark round eyes beneath a shock of black curly hair. He spoke pretty good English, gesturing grandly at points of interest.

  Kaitlin was enjoying the ride. Snuggling into Jack, she said, “Next time, Doyle, just you and me, no deadlines, definitely no entourage, just sunshine and white sand and lots of umbrella drinks. We need the break. I want you to promise.”

  “I promise,” Jack replied, meaning it. “Let’s just say getting the time off shouldn’t be a problem.”

  Kaitlin searched his face. “I think we have to talk.”

  “We have talked.”

  “I mean really talk.”

  The kid was jabbering on about some building along the route. An old rum distillery.

  Kaitlin squeezed Jack’s hand. “You’re a star reporter and even if the network doesn’t see that, somebody will. It makes no difference to me what you decide to do. I’ll love you nomatter what.” Kaitlin smiled devilishly. “The Emmys are nice, but they don’tmean squat between the sheets.”

  Jack grinned. She was right. Thankfully, he’d never defined himself by his public persona. Still, he felt a bit like a priest with a calling but no flock.

  The carriage suddenly stopped. Kaitlin climbed out. A vendor smiled at her, surrounded by bamboo cages full of tiny colourful birds. They were making quite the racket and Kaitlin was cooing right along with them, poking fingers through the cages, trying to touch their bright feathers. Jack stepped down, too. Even Malloy seemed to be getting a kick out of it. He joined them. “Wife had a budgie once. Thing never shut up.”

  “These are bee hummingbirds,” the vendor said. “The smallest bird in the world. Those are todies and peewees. You can buy them if you like. I can have them brought to your hotel.”

  Kaitlin pouted.

  Jack shook his head. “By the time we busted them out of quarantine, they’d be dead of old age.”

  “But they’re so beautiful.”

  The birds suddenly erupted. Chirping madly, wings whipping.

  Something was wrong. Jack heard the crack of a whip and turned to see the horse dashing away. Within seconds their carriage was gone. Malloy shouted after the kid, shaking his fist in the air.

  Strangely, the vendor was nowhere to be seen.

  The street was empty. No people. No cars. Except for one. Parked on the other side of the road. Jack hadn’t noticed it before. Why would he? Except now, they’d been abandoned. On a dark street in a maze of dark streets. The birds chirped and tweeted and ruffled their tiny features, safe in their cages, stacked one atop the other in rows along the sidewalk. The bar music from Obispo Street no longer reached them. Kaitlin moved closer, her eyebrows bunched, a question on her lips that the three of them had no answer to. What the hell was going on?

  Then the car doors opened.

  There were three of them. Dark shapes that shifted as one like a shadow rolling over light. They moved as a unit towards them.

  Kaitlin gasped.

  Malloy quietly swore.

  They drew together as if suddenly magnetized. Jack moved Kaitlin behind him. “Recommendations?” he said tightly.

  “Don’t panic,” Malloy whispered. “I think all they want is that shiny watch and your cash. Keep a close watch on the body language. The guy on the left, the big one. He’s in charge.”

  Behind his back, Jack grasped Kaitlin’s hands. They were shaking. Her hot breath on his neck. At that exact moment, Jack was trying to remember what she
was wearing on her feet. Not so stupid a thought because if it were heels, she’d be at a big disadvantage. Jack prayed it was the runners she sometimes wore with her jeans.

  The three of them stopped. The large one looked like a steroid monkey. Black greasy hair on a head that was too small for his body. His two accomplices were much smaller but meaner looking. Probably took as many beatings as they gave.

  “Ola,” the big guy said, deep and resonant. Like it was coming directly from his balls.

  Malloy said hello back.

  “American?”

  “Canadian.”

  Malloy was remarkably calm. Jack guessed he’d faced a lot of scumbags in his years at the Bureau.

  “No. American, amigo.”

  “Canadian,” Malloy repeated.

  One of the small scumbags broke off and began to circle.

  Jack watched him.Any movement to wards Kaitlin and they’d be into it. Jack stole a glance at Kaitlin’s feet. Thank God. Runners. She’d been a track athlete in college. Jack was sure none of these skin sacks could match her speed.

  The guy walking the circle was grinning now. Apparently waiting for some kind of cue.

  The big guy opened a mouth full of blackened teeth. “Your horse and buggy took off. Did he rob you? Tourists get robbed. Sometimes they get hurt. Did the little driver take your purse, lady? Did he hurt you?”

  Kaitlin shivered.

  Jack squeezed her hands.

  “We’re fine. No damage done,” Malloy said evenly.

  “We can drive you back to your hotel.”

  “We’ll walk. Thanks.”

  Jack knew that if things got physical, Malloy was well past his game. Even if he managed by some miracle to take the big one down, there were his two sidekicks to worry about. Both of them were lean and appeared battle ready. The walker took up a position directly behind them. He could sense the creep sizing up his wife. “Ed. Lets go.”

  After another uneasy moment, Malloy began their retreat. Two steps back. Jack and Kaitlin were moving as well. No one was doing anything stupid.

  Then the blades came out and the big guy lumbered towards them. Malloy was the first to react. A slender black object slipped from his sleeve. He swung in a wide arc. There was a muted thud as he connected with the big guy’s face. A knife clattered to the pavement. Blood gushed from his nose.

  Jack pushed Kaitlin hard and shouted at her to run.

  She stood stone still.

  “Now!”

  Kaitlin ran.

  The first punch caught Jack between the shoulder blades. He winced with pain. He spun and swung, but missed. The attacker was one of the smaller guys, but Jack was more worried about the other one. He was already gone. After Kaitlin. Jack drove his fist into the bastard’s guts. The man buckled, but was quickly up. Unleashing a flurry of swings. Only one connected, but it was enough to make Jack see stars. The side of his face went numb. He shook his head. Malloy was bent over the big guy, striking him again and again. The blackjack made a sickening sound. Jesus, did Malloy carry that with him every where? Concentrate. What if the other guy had taken Kaitlin down already? Pumped with adrenalin, it felt like his fingers were breaking as he hit the guy. Then with all his strength coiled along the right side of his body, Jack spent everything he had. The prick dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, and cradling his ribs. The guy was out of commission, for now anyway. Jack gulped at air.

  Wheezing heavily. Swinging the blackjack, Malloy shouted, “Go!”

  Jack took off. As fast as he could. His feet slapping a desperate cadence that was swallowed by the warm Havana night.

  So dark. A hundred ways to turn. She was alone.

  Kaitlin brought a hand to her racing heart and crouched within the shadows of some lost alleyway.

  Should she go back? No. She’d hunker down. Stay hidden. Jack had more to worry about right now.

  Kaitlin shivered hard. Cursed her stupidity. The kid with the carriage had picked her out of the crowd, gently pulled her to the buggy, smiling so cutely she couldn’t resist. She was sure those men had been waiting for them. She was worried about her husband, tried to shake it away. The alleyway where she was hiding was empty. Low windows were crisscrossed by bars of iron. Somewhere an air conditioner rattled. When Jack told her to run she hadn’t looked back, though she was certain the man was close behind. There was the pounding of his boots and moments later a shouted curse when he fell. It was the break she had needed.

  Kaitlin struggled to control her fear. Jack could take care of himself, but those men had knives.

  A cat howled nearby, causing her to jump. Slowly she stood and inched her way along the wall. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck. For a brief second she clamped shut her eyes and listened. Then she froze. A man breathing. She couldn’t tell how close. She fought panic and the urge to bolt. She could outrun him, she was certain, but what about that knife? Her heart pounded.

  She heard a muted cough, followed by a laboured breath. She could stay where she was and risk being cornered or go, now! She made her decision. Three. Two. One. Head down, she pushed off the wall, and sprinted onto the street, crashing into a form that suddenly materialized in front of her.

  They were knocked to the ground. Rolling madly. A blur of confusion. The weight of him on top of her. Kaitlin kicked and clawed and screamed. A frenzy of arms, legs, and teeth. Then cocking her knee for an assault on his crotch, their eyes met.

  “Jack!” she screamed.

  “God,” Jack said, between gasps. “Am I glad to see you.”

  40

  Jack checked his watch as he paced. It was just after one in the morning. The two cops had their noses buried in notebooks. They’d asked some of the right questions, but overall, Jack wasn’t impressed. Seth returned with coffee refills, one for Jack and another for him. The officers from the National Revolutionary Police looked up briefly and then returned to their notes.

  “Tick tock,” Seth said, quietly into his cup.

  Jack blamed himself for taking off the way he had, leaving Malloy to fend for himself. He drained his cup, placing it noisily on the table. He was about to say something.

  A radio crackled. One of the cops, whose name Jack had already forgotten, jumped on his mic. A few words were spoken. The man jotted something down then said, “I’m sorry to inform you there has been no sign of your friend.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “I’m afraid it is. They’ve searched the area. Twice, in fact.”

  “Search again,” Jack demanded.

  Reluctantly, the cop keyed his mic and barked an order.

  Jack needed sleep. Not more coffee. He was having trouble recalling the details. The perps’ faces were blurry to him. Were they Cuban? Hell, what make was the car? What about the plate?

  About an hour had passed since the front desk summoned the police. Ten minutes later, these two showed up. They spent a painful time asking questions, every moment feeling as though it was Malloy’s last. The polizia asked Kaitlin if she had been hurt in any way, and she assured them she had not. When it became too much to bear, Jack had pulled the senior cop aside. He told him in no uncertain terms what needed to be done. A man needed their help. As calmly as he could, Jack insisted they getmoving. Insisted on itmore than once. The guy said something patronizing, but otherwise ignored him. At one point, Jack considered grabbing a cab andmounting his own rescue mission. Seth was in, though the cop made it clear that wasn’t going to happen. Vigilante sounded the same in Spanish as it did in English.

  It wasn’t a complete waste of time. After listening to Jack rant, they eventually shoved him into the back of an Audi and took off. When they got towhere the attack happened, the street was empty. No thugs, no Malloy. No vendor or birds or bamboo cages. Jack got out of the vehicle even though they warned him about that.

  “Right here,” he said pointing to his feet. My guy was down hard. Malloy was over there beating on the big one. He was down too.”

  One of th
e cops flicked on a flashlight. He put the beam on the spot where Malloy had been fighting. He walked over and got down on one knee. After amoment, he looked up. “No blood,” he said.

  Bewilderment added to Jack’s confusion. If it were a robbery, you’d expect to find the victim. Maybe unconscious. Maybe worse. At least some blood or something.

  The senior officer looked doubtful. “This is not part of the tourist zone. Vendorswould not have been permitted. You’re sure there were birds?”

  “Bee hummingbirds,” Jack snapped back. “The smallest birds in the world.”

  The cops gave a quizzical look, then they ushered him into the car and they drove off.

  Back at the hotel. The staff were whispering. Nervously watching from behind the front desk. Jack requested hotel security walk the hallway now and then outside his room. Maria had offered to stay with Kaitlin but she said she just wanted to sleep. Still, Jack couldn’t shake his uneasiness. It was more than a random attack. It was an ambush. Kaitlin believed it too.That meant it had been coordinated, first at the hotel, where Kaitlin had been lured into a carriage, and then on the street where a vendor was placed as bait. Now, Malloy was missing.

  “You’re certain about the location?”

  Why was this cop finding it so damn hard to understand?

  “Sometimes it can be confusing,” the officer continued.“The old city has many faces. Unfortunately, they can look the same.”

  “I’m sure,” Jack replied, his patience gone. He flexed his hand, painfully. The hotel had gotten a physician to look at it. No broken bones, but there’d be some bruising in the morning.

  The polizia had given Malloy’s room the once over but it was another waste of time. There was also no sign of Malloy at local hospitals.

  Jack’s gut churned. It had been hours since he’d eaten and the coffee was like sludge in his stomach.