Deception!

by Elizabeth Ducie

  Then one day, Mikhail, Nico’s older brother, came to see me at the factory. We had grown to tolerate each other over the years and sometimes, it almost felt like we were friends.

  ‘Papa wants me to go to Brazil,’ he told me. ‘He’s had a strange request from your father. But I need to know what you want me to do.’

  It was as though I had been punched in the stomach. I stared at him in silence as I fought to get my breath back. In fact, I said very little that day, just listened to everything Mikhail had to say. But by the time he was ready to leave for the airport, I had my plans in place, my story straight.

  ‘Do not tell him I am in Ukraine,’ I said. ‘I want him to think I’m still in Africa.’

  ‘But what if he decides to go there to meet you?’

  ‘He mustn’t. Tell him you found me and I am happy to hear about him. Tell him I want to go to Brazil to meet him.’ I’d thought this all through. ‘And, Mikhail, do not tell him how my mother ended up, or what my life was like before your father brought me here.’

  ‘So what will I tell him?’

  ‘Tell him we survived. Tell him my mother found a friend, let’s call him Rene Lopez. We’ll give him a son called Guido.’

  ‘And so, Tata, we made up this story and we told Stefano what Mikhail was going to say, so there would be no confusion.’

  Mercy stared out of the window for a few moments. Then she looked back at Hawkins with a cold little smile on her face.

  ‘But it seems Stefano didn’t trust me as completely as I thought, did he? I never knew, until this evening, that he was in touch with you all that time. He never told me about you—and he obviously didn’t tell you about me. I don’t know why; but I will find out. Believe me, Tata, I will get answers from Stefano Mladov when I’ve finished with you.’

  CHAPTER 36

  Charlie sat tall and straight, staring at Mercy, determined not to distract her by moving in any way. But her mind was seething. Mercy was speaking slowly and distinctly, pausing to take a deep breath occasionally, and with only a slight break in her voice as she relived her life so far. She looked as though she had forgotten her audience, except the gun was still pointed straight at Michael Hawkins, and the hand that held that gun was rock solid, with never a tremor in it.

  Finally, Mercy stopped talking and sat silent for a minute or two. Then as though waking from a deep sleep she shook her head and refocused on her father.

  ‘Right, Tata dearest, now you’ve heard the full story. Anything to say before I end your miserable life?’

  Hawkins looked back at his daughter and tears welled in his eyes.

  ‘But Stefano’s son told me your mother was safe, cared for. You told us the same last night. Why invent the story about Rene Lopez?’

  ‘I couldn’t take the risk, Tata, that you would be ashamed of me. I didn’t want anything in my past to make you change your mind. Now I knew you were alive. Now I had the chance for revenge. I needed you to want me. But now that need’s gone. The truth can’t hurt anymore.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mercy, so very sorry. I had no idea. If I’d only known—’

  ‘Known what?’ she spat. ‘Known my mother was expecting me, or known she would end up as a whore and junkie whore at that! Or known your daughter would have to fight to stop herself from going down the same road. Which do you wish you’d known?’

  ‘All of it,’ Hawkins whispered.

  ‘Yes, well, that’s easy to say,’ she sneered, ‘but what exactly would you have done about it? Would you have stayed and looked after us? I doubt it! I think you would still have run away to save your own miserable skin!’ Hawkins made no reply. Mercy rose to her feet and gestured to Hawkins with her gun. ‘Right, I’ve had enough of this; let’s go!’

  She paid no attention to Charlie, almost as though she’d forgotten she was there. And that was the chance Charlie was waiting for. She sprang to her feet and launched herself at Mercy, hoping to rugby tackle her to the ground. But at the last minute, the other woman side-stepped her and, twisting as though on a knife edge, brought the gun down sharply against the side of Charlie’s skull. She went down with a thud and everything went black.

  Once again, Charlie had no idea how long she’d been unconscious. She was lying on the ground, with her cheek pressed against the thick Persian carpet. As she started to sit up, her head smacked at her and she stopped, trying to swallow down the wave of nausea that threatened to wash over her. She wriggled her fingers and was relieved to find that Mercy had not got around to retying her wrists. She was free to move—if she could.

  Someone was shouting from the deck outside the salon. The large window on the port side had been opened earlier to let in the night breezes and the voice was coming from that side of the boat. Charlie wondered where the crew was. Why hadn’t they come up from their quarters to see what the commotion was about? She raised herself gently to her knees and looked out of the window. Hawkins was lying on the deck, curled into the foetal position and Mercy was standing over him, taunting him and pointing the gun at his head.

  ‘Sod that for a game of soldiers,’ muttered Charlie. She wanted Hawkins to stand trial for what he had done, and be fittingly punished. She was damned if he was going to get an easy way out, here in the middle of the sea.

  The door to the salon, which was opposite the window and led out to the starboard deck, was pulled to, but there was a chink of light shining through below it. With a bit of luck, Mercy might have left it ajar, or forgotten to close it. Charlie lowered herself back onto the carpet and inched her way across the room. The lamps were still lit and if Mercy looked across at the window at the wrong time, she was likely to spot Charlie moving, but that was a risk she would have to take. She just had to hope Mercy was too involved in taunting her father to think of anything else at the moment.

  Charlie hooked her fingers under the bottom of the door and pulled it gently towards her. When it was about half open, she slid through and reaching up to the handle, pulled it shut behind her. Then she stood up.

  The blood rushed to her head and she was reminded once more of the stinging blow she’d received from Mercy’s gun. But there was no time to think about that now. The deck ran all around the central salon. If Mercy was still in the same position as before, she would have her back to the stern. Charlie crept in that direction. She could hear Mercy quite clearly now. Again, she wondered where the crew had got to. But she couldn’t rely on them anyway. After all, they were hired by the Hawkins family; they should be loyal to Michael Hawkins, but they could well be allied with Mercy.

  As she reached the back of the salon, she ducked down into a crouch. Turning the corner, she came face to face with the young crewman left on board the previous night by the captain to look after them. He was sitting slumped against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him, his eyes open and staring sightlessly at her. The blood that had gushed from the wound at his throat made a dark stain down the front of his once pristine uniform. It looked like he’d been dead for hours.

  She poked her head around the corner and then drew back rapidly. Mercy was standing over Hawkins, just a few feet away. She was still holding the gun.

  Charlie looked around for a weapon and spotted a rack of sports equipment, including a baseball bat. It was perfect. It reminded her of the rounders bats they played with at school. She had always been very good at rounders.

  She took a deep breath and ran around the corner, heading straight for Mercy and Hawkins. The African woman spun on her heel at the noise, but before she had time to pull the trigger, or react in any way, Charlie brought the bat around in a double-handed swipe, worthy of any first team batsman. She felt, as much as heard, the impact as the bat hit Mercy’s wrist. There was a scream, whether of anger or pain was unclear, as the gun flew out of her hand and slid along the deck.

  With another scream, this time definitely of rage, Mercy flung herself at Charlie, clawing at her face. Her momentum threw the two women dow
n in a heap and Charlie groaned as her head hit the deck. Even her headache was starting to get a headache.

  Mercy twisted herself sideways, sat astride Charlie’s chest and wrapped her hands around her throat. As she struggled to remove the fingers of steel, Charlie saw a figure rise from the deck behind Mercy. Was Hawkins going to come to her aid? But with his hands still tied behind his back, there was nothing he could do. He turned and scurried towards the bow, hiding himself behind the lifeboat station.

  Charlie interlocked her fingers and forced her clenched fist between Mercy’s arms and then threw her hands apart, bringing her fists down hard on the other woman’s wrists. The pressure on her neck slackened. Only slightly, but it was enough. She bucked her whole body upwards and sideways, and Mercy fell off and rolled against the wall of the salon.

  Charlie jumped up and stood panting, watching as Mercy tried to recover. The place where they were standing was narrow and there was no room to manoeuvre. She needed to lure the other woman to a wider space. Glancing over her shoulder, she spied the stairway leading up to the sun deck on top of the salon. As Mercy began to stir, Charlie turned and ran towards it.

  ‘Yes, you can run,’ screamed Mercy, ‘but you’re not going to get away from me that easily.’ Charlie heard the thud of bare feet on the deck as Mercy chased after her.

  She reached the stairs seconds before her pursuer and raced to the top. The sun deck was wide, flat and empty at the stern, with steps thirty metres away, leading down to the swimming pool and a row of loungers at the bow end.

  Charlie ran to the other side of the deck and turned to face Mercy, who was holding her right wrist in her left hand and grimacing. Blood trickled down the side of her face from a gash along her cheekbone. She was breathing heavily. Charlie stood still, waiting for the other woman to make the first move.

  Mercy prowled around the deck, keeping her eyes on Charlie throughout. Neither woman was armed; Charlie had lost her weapon in the struggle on the lower deck, but at least Mercy’s gun was also gone. Charlie was just beginning to wonder if she would be able to talk her way out of this situation, when Mercy began to speak.

  ‘You know there’s no-one else to help you, don’t you?’ she said. Charlie looked down towards the entrance to the crew’s quarters and Mercy laughed. ‘Oh, come on! You don’t really think there’s anyone else on board, do you? Don’t you think they would have appeared by now?’

  ‘Well, I’ve seen your handiwork downstairs, but I was wondering where the rest of the crew had got to.’

  ‘I paid them off, sweetie. When they headed off for their night out, I told them we would manage on our own today; that they were to take the day off and come back to pick us up tomorrow. Mind you, it didn’t come cheap. It took a fair wedge of my money to convince them, well, Tata dearest’s money really—ironic isn’t it? The man who’s going to get killed is paying to send his possible rescuers away.’

  ‘So your plan is to kill Michael, or maybe both of us?’

  ‘Oh, definitely both of you! My father assaulted you; you fought him off; killed him in self-defence. And were so guilt-ridden you killed yourself too.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘Me? Oh, I’d taken a sleeping pill and slept through it all. I think I will play the grieving daughter and friend rather well.’

  ‘But what about our plans? You running away, me helping you?’

  ‘Run away?’ Mercy gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘Why on earth would I want to run away? I’ve got everything here I would ever want. All I need to do is dispose of my father,’ she spat on the deck as she said the words, ‘and make him pay for what he did to my mother. Then I will take over his businesses as his rightful heir.’

  ‘So you’ve been planning this for a long time?’

  ‘Ever since I arrived, Rose dear; ever since I arrived. I couldn’t do anything too soon; that would look just too suspicious. But now I’m settled in, accepted as a dutiful daughter, grateful even. All I’m going to be accused of is an unfortunate choice of friends! Tragic really.’

  As they talked, Mercy edged ever closer. Charlie moved slowly backwards, aware there wasn’t much space left between her and the edge of the deck.

  And then it came. With a snarl, Mercy launched herself towards Charlie—who made no effort to defend herself.

  At the last minute, she stepped sideways and stuck out her foot. Mercy tried to check her flight, but the momentum was too great. She tripped over Charlie’s leg and fell headlong over the edge of the deck. Immediately below them was the covered shape of the starboard lifeboat. Charlie watched as Mercy flew through the air, and landed awkwardly, striking her head on the edge of the boat as she did so. She struggled to her feet and stood, swaying slightly, her eyelids fluttering.

  At that moment, a skyrocket arched up into the night sky behind her, signalling the start of that night’s firework display. The explosion of sound came an instant later. Mercy jumped at the noise and spun around, just as a wave hit the boat, rocking it and tugging at the anchor. She lurched sideways, tried to regain her footing and teetered on the edge before slipping over the side and down into the inky darkness of the water below.

  ‘Noooooooo!’ The screech split the night and Michael Hawkins rushed out from his hiding place on the other side of the boat and raced to the starboard hand rail. Charlie ran down to the deck below and joined him at the side. But there was no sight nor sound of Mercy. She had simply vanished.

  CHAPTER 37

  Charlie undid the ties binding Hawkins’ hands and for more than an hour they searched for Mercy; shouting her name, stabbing the darkness with flashlights, staring into the dark waves below. But there was nothing. She was gone. Whether she was unconscious when she fell into the water, or whether she got caught in rocks and weeds under the surface, wasn’t clear. But even her father had to admit she wasn’t coming back.

  Charlie left him standing on the deck and clawed her way in the dark to her cabin where she fell on her bunk, fully clothed. The shock and pain of the previous twenty-four hours finally caught up with her. The last thing she heard was a dragging sound, followed by a splash. Then all was quiet.

  When she awoke, the sun was high in the sky. Michael Hawkins was still standing where she’d left him, clinging to the rail and staring at the deep waters beneath him. He looked like he’d been there all night. And yet, he must have moved at some point. When Charlie checked the stern deck, the body of the young crewman had gone.

  ‘I loved her. I truly loved her.’ Hawkins’ voice was low, hoarse and full of despair. ‘I’ve done a lot of things in my life I’m not proud of. She was the one shining light in the whole sorry mess.’

  Charlie put her hand on Hawkins’ arm. Briefly, she saw not a man who had lied and cheated his way through life; not a man who had caused the deaths of countless children, and probably adults, in his greed; not even a man who had kidnapped and tortured her sister. For that brief moment, she saw just a man who’d lost his daughter and was grieving.

  ‘Come down to the galley,’ she said, ‘and let me make you a drink. Have you been here all night?’

  But Hawkins carried on talking as though he’d not heard anything she said.

  ‘She didn’t love me. I realise that now. All these months, we’ve been living a lie. But it was worth it.’

  Charlie realised she wasn’t going to get through to Hawkins at the moment, so she went down to the galley in search of food and something to drink.

  As the sun gradually climbed into its noonday position, with no sign of the crew returning, Charlie got on the radio and called for help.

  Within a short while, a large motorboat appeared on the horizon, bearing the logo of the Brazilian Coast Guards. They dropped a couple of sailors aboard the stranded vessel, who quickly had the engines started and the boat heading back towards the marina.

  As she stood at the rail, watching the skyline of Rio get ever closer, Charlie heard a step behind her. It was Mic
hael Hawkins. But such a different man from the broken, grieving father she’d seen just a while before. He had shaved, changed and was back to his normal dapper self. As he reached her side, she began to speak.

  ‘Michael, I am so sorry—,’ but he waved away her words.

  ‘It’s over, Rose. I thought she was my daughter, but I was obviously mistaken. No true daughter would treat her father like she did.’

  ‘But what are you going to tell the police?’

  ‘Police? In this place? During carnival? What’s the point?’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve ordered the plane to be ready for this afternoon. I’ll take you back to São Paulo and then I will say goodbye to you.’

  ‘And will you go back to England for a while? You need a breathing space and staying in Brazil will only remind you of Mercy.’ But the words were barely out of her mouth before he rounded fiercely on her.

  ‘Never! Why would I want to go back there? I have everything I could need here—everything! And I don’t wish to hear that woman’s name again—ever!’ He turned and walked off towards the lounge.

  Charlie watched him ruefully. She’d thought for one moment she would be able to persuade Hawkins to come back to England voluntarily. It would be much easier to get him arrested once he was back on British soil. But it had been a long shot and it obviously wasn’t going to work.

  Oh well, thought Charlie, it was worth a try. I guess I’m going to have to revert to Plan B. I just wish I knew what Plan B was.

  Back on dry land, Charlie and Hawkins went in search of the missing crew in the various dockside pubs and drinking dens—and in the third one they tried, they were lucky. The captain and first mate were enjoying a drink and a laugh together in front of the fire. Their jaws dropped when Hawkins strode across the bar and slammed his fist down on the table.