Bluewater Ganja: The Ninth Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 9)

by Charles Dougherty

  "Yes, Madame."

  "And get the girl on the Lion of Judah immediately."

  "Yes, Madame. They're on the way to our rendezvous as we speak."

  "Good. Once that's done and all traces of her presence are removed, bring Lotus Blossom to Wallilabou. Make sure to clean up the evidence of the two fools you hired, too."

  "As you wish."

  "And, Wong?"

  "Madame?"

  "Is your face damaged?"

  "I have stitches, but — "

  "Where?"

  "My right eyebrow, my nose, and my upper and lower lips."

  "Hurry with your tasks. I want you."

  "Of course, Madame." Wong grinned, enjoying the way the stitches pulled at his flesh.

  ****

  Ed paced on the side deck as Lightning Bolt drew close to Vengeance. "Did you find them?" he yelled, as soon as they were within hailing distance.

  Dani shook her head. "We just missed them," she said, handing the bow line up to Liz, who crouched on the deck forward of Ed.

  Dani scrambled up and tied the stern line, and Sharktooth followed close behind her. Dani put a hand on Ed's shoulder. "She almost managed to get away from them," she said.

  "She what? How?"

  "We don't know the details," she said, "but she escaped while the two men were eating lunch. She went to the parish priest for help, and he took her to the police station."

  "Well, where is she, then?" Ed asked, his hands grasping Dani's shoulders as he stared into her eyes.

  "A man that the locals all knew and thought well of came along while they were wondering how to proceed and offered to bring her here on his yacht."

  "Okay," Ed said. "So?"

  "So they were in the tender, going out to the yacht, when the two men caught up with them. They beat up her rescuer and seriously wounded the man driving the tender. They took her away."

  "Shit! That's awful. I was excited there for a minute, but this has to be worse than before, now, doesn't it?"

  "That's hard to say," Dani said.

  "How could it not be worse? They'll be angry with her now," Ed said.

  "Remember what we were talking about a few minutes ago, Ed," Liz said. "This is business for them. Sure, they'll be upset with her, but she's still valuable to them. They'll just be more cautious with her now."

  He shook his head, dropping his hands from Dani's shoulders.

  "Ed, she's clearly got a survivor's attitude," Dani said. "For her to escape, that means she's got her wits about her. She's going to be okay; attitude is 90 percent of getting through this kind of thing."

  "Let me make us some lunch," Liz said. "Ed, why don't you tell Dani and Sharktooth about your phone call?"

  Liz went below into the galley, and the other three settled in the shade of the cockpit awning. Ed recounted the brief call from the kidnappers.

  "Did Liz call Phillip?" Dani asked.

  "Haven't had a chance, yet," Liz called up from below. "We got the call right before I spotted you returning."

  Dani picked up the satellite phone and scrolled through the menu. Before she placed the call, Ed asked, "What can he do?"

  "See if we can get any information on who made the call," Dani said, pressing the connect icon.

  "But it said 'calling number blocked,'" Ed said.

  Dani nodded, but proceeded to give Phillip the technical details on their phone. She disconnected and turned to Ed. "He has some contacts that can sometimes work past that. It has to do with correlating data from a bunch of different places. No guarantees, but it's worth a try."

  "That sounds like some kind of NSA spook stuff," Ed said.

  "I don't know." Dani shrugged. "Have you done anything about raising the money?"

  "Not yet. Why?"

  "Because they may be tracking your account activity to see if you're working on it."

  "How could they do that?"

  "Ed, I have no idea. I only know that there's no privacy when it comes to that kind of data anymore — not from anyone who's determined and unconstrained by rules."

  "Shit. That's scary."

  "Get over it. Can you raise that kind of money in 48 hours?"

  "Yes. That's just about the extent of my liquid assets, though. I'm lucky they didn't ask for more; I probably couldn't raise it. Not fast, anyway."

  "See what I mean? They probably know all about your finances. They knew exactly where to draw the line on the ransom, didn't they?"

  He nodded, a chastened look on his face. "Can I use that phone?"

  "Sure." She handed it to him, and he keyed in a number without needing to look it up.

  Chapter 18

  Sharktooth joined them in the cockpit. He had been up on the foredeck, speaking on his own satellite phone in soft tones.

  "Anything new?" Dani asked, as he sat down next to her.

  He held a hand out flat, palm down, and rocked it side to side. "Some. Not much."

  "What?" Ed asked, disconnecting from his call and handing the phone back to Dani.

  "The fellas from Trinidad, they bad people. Hired muscle, like you guess, Dani. Been in so much trouble, don't nobody in Trinidad want to use 'em anymore. Police watchin' everyt'ing they do."

  Ed's face fell. "That's not good."

  Sharktooth shrugged. "Jus' mean they can't get work in Trinidad. Word is, they hook up with somebody in St. Vincent."

  "Do they have a history of kidnapping?"

  "Mm-hmm. Every bad boy in Trinidad have a history of kidnapping. Kidnapping the national sport."

  "Anything else?" Dani asked.

  "What that lady at the snackette tol' us," Sharktooth paused until Dani nodded. "It all check out right. I called Father Daniel. He tol' me same t'ing she say."

  "Who's Father Daniel?" Ed asked.

  "He my mother's stepfather's uncle's grandson. My cousin, I t'ink."

  "The parish priest in Petite Martinique who helped Cynthia," Dani added. "Did he tell you any more about this Mr. Wong?"

  She saw Ed's eyebrows twitch and said, "Mr. Wong was the man who offered to bring Cynthia here on his yacht."

  "Mm-hmm. Mr. Wong work for a lady in St. Vincent name Marissa Chen. They in the spice trade, come from Hong Kong after the Chinese took it back from the British. She rich lady, give lotsa money to Father Daniel for the school. An' not jus' that. She give money to all kindsa charity in the islands."

  "What's Wong's relationship to her?" Dani asked.

  "He the right-hand man. Run t'ings, day to day, from what Father Daniel say. He a dwarf; work for the Chen family from when the lady's father run the business. They bust he face up pretty good, what Father Daniel say. Mebbe 20 or 30 stitches."

  "That woman said they cut the other guy," Dani said.

  "Mm-hmm. Both arm; cut up bad. Mebbe not be able to use hands right."

  "God help Cynthia," Ed mumbled, sniffing back tears.

  Sharktooth laid a big hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. "They most likely won't hurt her. Not as long as you do what they say. It's business; if they hurt their hostages, people won't trust them."

  "Trust them? They're kidnappers," Ed said.

  "But if they don't deliver the victim when the ransom's paid, they won't be able to make a deal on their next job. That's the way it works, at least down here." Sharktooth dropped his island accent as he tried to soothe Ed.

  "I've always heard about them sending a finger, or an ear, or something like that," Ed said.

  "Mm-hmm. Mostly, they only do that if you don't follow their instructions."

  "So you're saying I should just meekly pay the $10 million dollars and not try to find them?"

  "You should follow their instructions to the letter until we find them," Sharktooth said.

  "And then what?"

  "And then we put them out of business. Kidnapping ver' bad t'ing. Mos' people in the islan', they happy to see kidnapper disappear." He grinned as he shifted back to his local language.

  Ed stared at Sharktooth for a
moment, then turned his gaze to Dani's icy blue eyes. He swallowed hard and looked away just as Liz passed a platter of sandwiches up through the companionway.

  ****

  Having curled into a fetal position on the queen-sized bed as she fought her anxiety, Cynthia jerked to a sitting position when she heard the latch on the door snap open. She rose to her feet as the door swung back, stifling a scream when she saw Wong's bloody face. He cackled with laughter and stepped into the cabin, followed by two uniformed crewmen that she hadn't seen before.

  "What happened to you?" she asked.

  He grinned, stretching the stitches in his lower lip. Drops of blood beaded around the stitches and began to run down his chin. "Just a little diversion."

  "Why did you lock me in?"

  The men with him laughed. Wong went into the head, emerging with her bikini and the cotton shift. He tossed them at her. "Put these on."

  "What? Why?"

  "Change of plans. You won't need silk pajamas where you're going."

  "Where I'm going? I thought — "

  "Enough. I don't have time for you right now. Strip off those pajamas."

  Frightened, she took a step toward the head. One of the crewmen moved between her and the door, grinning as he ran his eyes over her body.

  "Now," Wong said, raising his voice, "or I'll let them help you change clothes."

  "Can't I have privacy?"

  Wong sighed. "You two, turn around."

  The crewmen did as ordered. "I'll close my eyes and give you ten seconds, starting NOW."

  Cynthia stripped and put on the bikini, still damp from when she had rinsed it. As she dropped the shift over her head, Wong said, "Okay, take her to the dinghy."

  "Am I — " she asked, doubling over with a gasp as Wong drove his fist into her stomach.

  The crewmen grabbed her arms and frog-marched her through the passageway to the stern platform where the tender was waiting, its engine idling. They shoved her toward the RIB. As she stumbled forward, one of the people in the RIB, a woman, caught her and helped her aboard. Wong scrambled after her.

  "Let's go," he ordered, and the RIB surged forward, swerving toward a rusty little freighter that rolled in the swell a few hundred yards away, black smoke belching from its stack in irregular bursts.

  Cynthia made out the crudely painted name on the rounded stern as they approached. Lion of Judah, the vessel was named, and the hailing port was Port-au-Prince, Haiti.

  "Where are you — " Her question was cut off by the vicious slap that Wong delivered to the side of her head. She blinked, dazed by the blow.

  "Shut up," he ordered. "Do as you're told, and maybe your father will pay your ransom."

  She caught herself as she started to speak, closing her mouth on her next question.

  "Good girl," Wong said. "You're learning. Perhaps I'll have time to teach you more, before this is over."

  She stroked her cheek, feeling the swelling which had already begun. Wong laughed at that. The RIB bumped to a stop against a small platform that marked the end of a ramp that led up to the deck of the battered little ship. Two men in ragged clothes stood on the platform, leering at her.

  Wong jerked her to her feet and pushed her forward. One of the men grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her onto the platform as she stumbled to keep her footing.

  "Keep her safe," Wong said.

  The man, who still held her arm in a painful grip, laughed.

  "I'll be back," Wong said. "I'd better not find that you've touched her. Do you understand?"

  Cynthia saw a flash of movement, and the leg of the laughing man's pants fell open from his crotch to his ankle, cut cleanly by the razor that Wong folded and put away as if nothing had happened.

  The man's face went pale as his laughter stopped. "Yes, Mr. Wong," he said in a sober voice.

  "And keep her by herself. Don't put her in with the others."

  "Just as you say, Mr. Wong," the man said. He tugged Cynthia's arm, turning her toward the ramp, and pushed her forward. She heard the RIB leave. As she and her two escorts stepped onto the flaking paint of the freighter's deck, two more men hoisted the ramp.

  The man holding her arm barked something in a guttural voice. Cynthia couldn't understand the language, though she recognized a word or two of French. The other man who had been on the platform grabbed her other arm as the one who had spoken released his grip.

  The man who had spoken shifted his hand to her chin and turned her head, forcing her to look at him. "You go him, bitch. You make trouble, I cut you bad so even Wong no want you." He spat in her face and jerked her head to the side as he let her go. He gave another order in the language that Cynthia thought must be pidgin French of some kind. So frightened she almost couldn't remain standing, she let the other man lead her below deck.

  ****

  Marissa Chen studied the email from the private investigator to whom she had been referred by her mob contact. The Dragon Lady believed in knowing all she could learn about any potential adversary, and at the moment, that was how she classified Danielle Berger. Wong hadn't been able to explain how the Berger woman tracked Cynthia Savage to Petite Martinique. Berger must have connections somewhere; there were too many islands too close to the Tobago Cays for her to have ended up at Petite Martinique by chance.

  She skimmed Berger's biographical data, seeing nothing there that would explain her appearance in Petite Martinique. Berger and her partner Liesbet Chirac both had backgrounds in financial management prior to buying their yacht. Berger had worked for her family's investment bank in New York, while Chirac had worked in Brussels for the E.U. They had owned the yacht for about three years, and had bought it in Antigua, although it was U.S. flagged. Chen made a note on a legal pad to find out how the two met.

  There was no information on Chirac save her education and her employment by the E.U. Berger, on the other hand, had worked as hired crew on several yachts during her time in university, and had left the family banking business a year before she and Chirac bought Vengeance. During that year, she had been employed as crew on a British yacht, the Ramblin' Gal.

  She had abandoned that job without notice, disappearing from the yacht while it was in Mayreau, part of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Her unexplained absence had caused some difficulty for the yacht's owner when he had tried to clear out for Antigua. The email offered no explanation for how that had been resolved, nor any accounting for Berger's activity during the period between her disappearance and her purchase of Vengeance.

  Chen made another note to herself. She would follow up with her local contacts. There would be some record; the immigration people were tenacious in their pursuit of crewmembers who jumped ship in their country.

  She read on, finding nothing else of interest in the investigator's report. Tearing off the page of notes she had made, she opened the manila folder that held the rest of her scribbled notes on the operation. She inserted the new sheet in the front, noticing as she did that the satellite phone number that Wong had given her from Berger's business card was the same as the number that her minions had obtained from Ed Savage's office.

  That was no surprise, but it did cause her to make another note to herself to find out if Berger had a personal cell phone number. Cell phones were less secure than satellite phones, especially in the islands. She might be able to track the woman, or even have her calls monitored. She closed the folder and dropped it in the file drawer of her desk, thinking that she would have a cup of tea before she called her contacts in immigration to ask about Berger.

  The intercom line on her desk phone chimed before she picked up the handset. Pressing down the key, she said, "Yes? What is it, Veralyn?"

  "Mr. Wong is here, Madame Chen."

  "Ah, thank you, Veralyn. Send him right in. And, Veralyn?"

  "Yes, Madame?"

  "Cancel my appointments for this afternoon, and hold my calls. I do not wish to be disturbed while Mr. Wong is here."

  Chapter 19

&n
bsp; "He's fallen for you, big-time," Liz said, grinning at Dani as she poured her another cup of herbal tea.

  They sat in the shadows in the cockpit. Ed was below in his stateroom, trying to sleep. He had excused himself after dinner, saying he wanted to take a prescription tranquilizer and try to get his blood pressure under control. Sharktooth was on the foredeck with his satellite phone, speaking softly in patois.

  "What?" Dani asked, looking distracted. "Who's done what?"

  "Ed," Liz said. "He was like a teenager. Thought he was being really clever."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "It's working," Liz said.

  "Sorry to be dense, Liz, but I have no idea what you're talking about. What's working?"

  "Playing hard to get. You're driving him crazy."

  Dani smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. "That jerk."

  Liz frowned. "But I thought you wanted — "

  "I can't believe it. His daughter's been kidnapped, and he's still acting like a, a ... " her face turned red.

  "You're blushing," Liz said.

  "Blushing? I'm trying to restrain my impulse to kick his sorry ass. I can't believe he's got sex on his mind when his daughter's in trouble."

  "Well, since you quit fawning over him, he's really taken the bait."

  "I don't have time for that. To hell with him and his flirting. We need to find Cynthia before something bad happens to her."

  "You don't believe the line we've been feeding Ed? About professional kidnappers?"

  Dani shook her head. "No. The coincidence with this drug business argues against that. Let him believe it; no need to alarm him, but my bet is that the ransom demand is an afterthought. I think they want her silenced."

  "But who could she identify that she hasn't already told the police about?"

  Dani shrugged. "Good question, but we can't ask her now. When I talked to Phillip a few minutes ago, he said the Chief Super had told him that the taxi driver had gone missing. So has the bartender from the ferry. They're looking for a guy who was a known associate of both of them. He hasn't been seen for a couple of days, either."

  "Wow! Guess somebody's nervous, then. What could she know?"