Follow the Evidence (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 2) (19 page)

I stripped down to my boxers then
swung my legs up on the couch. I wasn’t usually the kind of idiot to turn down
a sure thing but I’d done just that twice in a week.

“I must be getting old,” I said to
the empty room.

I slid down on the couch trying to
get comfortable. The only position that didn’t hurt was flat on my back. I
tossed and tried not to turn as sleep eluded me. My mind was working
overtime-the case, Madison, her ex and the missing girls all blurred together,
especially Lia. I couldn’t get them out of my brain.

I woke with a start in a gulley of
sweat. I looked at my watch. I’d been lying there three hours. My fevered mind
jumped to Madison. ‘You’ll be leaving soon’,” she’d said.

“Oh what the hell,” I said aloud.

I eased myself up through the pain
and headed to her bedroom. A sliver of light leaked from a doorway down the
hall. The door was open just a crack. I went to it and looked in, holding my
breath. A light colored sheet partially covered her, as she lay naked on her
back facing away from the door. The contrast of light sheet against her dark
skin drew me into the room. I’d taken only a few steps when she turned toward
the door and reached out to me.

“I left the light on and the door
open hoping you’d come,” she said, sleep evident in her voice. “I’m open for
you.” now her voice was stronger, filled with growing need. She parted her legs
and spread her arms as if making a snow angel. The sheet flowed gently with
her. “Make love to me. Help me feel again.”

I didn’t know what to say. I’d
forced her to bare her soul-reveal her failures and pain. I only had one way to
make it up to her. I sat on the bed and took her hand as she turned on that
luminous smile. She sat up and the sheet fell away. She was so free with her
amazing body. I put my arms around her. When we kissed, I forgot the pain in my
side. She pulled back suddenly. A tear appeared on her cheek and her voice
trembled as she said, “You don’t have to love me, but tonight pretend you do.
Make me feel loved.”

I knew it was wrong. She was
blitzed and upset. I could still say no but we both knew I wouldn’t. I embraced
her again but she gently pushed me away and said in a low growl, “Lay on your
back. I’ll take care of us both tonight.” Then, as I settled back, she
whispered, “Thank you.”

I felt something cold and wet as I
came around. Madison was draping her wet hair over me.

“Stop it,” I shouted. “That’s
cold.”

“It’s pastime to get up,” she said
pushing at my side. I winced in pain.
Bruised ribs sucked.

“Ooo, I’m so sorry. I forgot your
ribs. They didn’t seem to slow you down last night.”

She leaned in and kissed me.

“I had the right kind of
encouragement. Kiss me again.”

“No, we have to get moving. If
we’re going to bring down the Royal Bahamian Police Force today, we have to get
started. I talked to Commissioner Adair’s administrative assistant. The
commissioner has a half hour free at 11:30. We’ll have to hurry.”

I pulled her to me and kissed her.
She resisted for a moment then melted into my arms.

Oh, Mac,” she said as she gently
pulled her lips from mine. “We have to get going. We don’t have much time.”

“What time
is
it?”

“Almost ten.”

With a resigned sigh, I let her go
and said, “Can I use your shower?”

Forty minutes later, we were both
dressed. While I was in the shower, Madison had made copies of the Palm Harbor
video surveillance. She gave one to me and slapped a label on the other that
said ‘Quarter Deck incident’. It was a monumental bluff but a guilty mind is a
funny thing. I’d run the fake evidence scam a hundred times. It never failed.
This time the subject was a high-ranking cop, not a jihadist, or a rogue Iraqi
Army officer or even a three-time loser burglary suspect. I’d have one shot but
before I could take it, we had to convince a politician, it was in his best
interest to kick his trusted deputy to the curb.

At 11:30 on the dot, Madison and I
were ushered into Commissioner John Adair’s office. The man was resplendent in
his white shirt and dark dress uniform. His cap with its red band and agency
crest sat on the corner of his desk with a pair of white gloves. He was a slender
slight man with heavy eyebrows and a narrow downturned mustache that was
decidedly grey.

“Superintendant Todd, this is a
pleasant surprise,” he said without rising from his desk. “You’re a late
addition to my Monday schedule, I see.”

“Yes sir, good morning. This is Mr.
Macdonald Everett from the States. Mr. Everett is a…”

“Mr. Everett is a provocateur-are
you not Mr. Everett.”

“If you mean I’m a trouble maker,
it’s not intentional, sir. I’m an ex-army intelligence officer turned private
investigator and I’m here to solve a problem for you.”

“It appears you create problems.
What happened to your face?”

“I can explain,” Madison said.

Commissioner Adair raised one hand
to stop her. “Superintendant Todd, the man can speak for himself.”

“My face is part of what I have to
tell you, sir.”

“Start at the beginning, if you
please, Mr. Everett.”

“The Sheriff of Orange County,
Florida asked me to look into a sudden rise in the disappearance of young
women,” I said. “At the same time, I was hired to find out about one of the
people who disappeared on the so-called Nassau Ghost Ship.”

He steepled his fingers and nodded.

“I’d be interested to hear what you
have to say about that,” the commissioner said.

“In the last 24 hours, with
Superintendent Todd’s help, I’ve determined that the Nassau Ghost Ship, named
the Wi
nd Dancer
left her anchorage at Palm Harbor Marina and that the
people reported missing were not onboard.”

“What!” Commissioner Adair
exclaimed as he jerked forward in is chair. “You can’t be serious. Your own
Coast Guard confirmed those three people were aboard.”

“Yes, sir, we were meant to believe
that. Video surveillance from Palm Harbor shows a group of men carrying off
what we believe to be one of missing women. The other woman is safe in Orlando
and the man has been seen in Miami and here in Nassau. The video quality is
poor because this happened at night, but what is very clear is that a boat
owned by Diego Sebastian towed the
Wind Dancer
out of the Palm Harbor
marina and his son Sergio is deeply involved in a conspiracy.”

“I have a copy of the vid for you,
sir,” Madison added.

He stopped her again with a raised
hand.

“Let’s get Ian on this right away.
I know that you and he still don’t get on but...”

“There is more, commissioner, and
you are not going to like it. You should hear it all before you do anything.”

He frowned, but I could see I’d
intrigued him. We were still standing but he hadn’t thrown us out. I took it as
small victory. Now I had to go for broke.

“Tell me what kind of trouble we’ve
gotten ourselves into,” he said as he stood.

Madison and I waited as the slight
man emerged from his massive desk. He invited us to a seating area with an
outstretched hand. “Have a seat. Would you like some coffee, tea?”

“Nothing for me, thank you,” I
replied.

Madison shook her head. She was
containing her nerves, but just barely.

“Continue, Mr. Everett,” the
commissioner said. “I consider myself a good judge of character and despite
some considerable suspicion when you came in, I think I should hear what you
have, to say.”

“You mentioned my face,” I said.
“It’s the people who tried to rearrange it we want to talk about.
Superintendent Todd, do you have that additional video surveillance?”

Madison removed a CD from her
portfolio and held it up.

“Last evening I was at the Quarter
Deck bar. While I was there, I saw two people on that a yacht. I believe one of
them was Sergio Sebastian.

“Wasn’t he reported killed in the
Wind
Dancer
incident?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you can identify your attacker
we should be able to make an arrest immediately,” the commission said.

This time I held up my hand.

“The other man is the one who
assaulted me. His name is Laszlo Munoz.”

“Laszlo Munoz, I know who he is,”
the commissioner said.

“I’d never seen him before, but one
of the men holding me called him by name,” I said. “As you know both Munoz and
Sebastian are connected to organized crime.”

I was making assumptions but the
commissioner’s reactions proved me right.

The commissioner nodded and sat
back in his chair, with a suddenly weary look. “I’m waiting for the other shoe
to drop, Mr. Everett.”

“Sebastian and Munoz met with a
third man on that yacht. They didn’t try to conceal the meeting. They talked
briefly and the third man left in a black Mercedes. I believe that third man
told Sebastian and Munoz my location. They lured me into an alley and attacked
me. Munoz made no attempt to hide their faces so…”

“Their intent was to kill you while
making the crime appear to be a robbery,” the commissioner said. “Don’t look so
surprised. I’ve been a police officer a long time, Mr. Everett. I suppose
you’re going to tell me who the third man was.”

“Commissioner Adair I believe
Sebastian and Munoz are involved in a human trafficking operation and that the
smugglers are moving people through The Bahamas.”

Commissioner Adair’s went
wide-eyed.

“I’m sure you recall the Cuban
freighter incident,” Madison interjected. “We tracked that ship for days. When
we finally stopped her, she was empty. The information we developed was the
smugglers had offloaded onto smaller boats. The freighter belonged to Diego
Sebastian. A delay of two days cost us the case. You recall who was in charge
of the operation.”

“That was very embarrassing. Yes, I
remember, you were in charge.”

“Do you know what caused the delay
in intercepting the ship?”

He shook his head.

“Deputy Commissioner Ian Todd
redirected the two coastal patrol vessels tasked with stopping the freighter to
Freeport to search for a vessel in distress but nothing was…”

Commissioner closed his eyes and touched
the middle of his forehead.

“Why was I not told?” He paused
then looked at me. “Everett, did you see Ian Todd last night?”

“Yes sir. I believe he told
Sebastian and Munoz about me.”

“That explains one small thing,”
the commissioner said as he stood. “Ian was to meet me at Government House last
night and canceled at the last minute. I must get the Internal Bureau Inspector
on this immediately. Superintendent Todd, is that video from the harbor front
last night? We will…”

“Unfortunately, there is more.”
Madison said. “Last night there was an in custody death at Fox Hill.”

“Yes, I’m waiting for a preliminary
report.”

“I arrested the deceased, Enderby
Cox, yesterday. He identified Laszlo Munoz as the man who paid him to lie about
the point of departure of the
Wind Dancer
. It was an attempt to conceal
the abduction. Cox was under close arrest. That means…”

“That means only a supervisor or
ranking officer could have gotten near him,” the commissioner said.

The implication was clear. He closed
his eyes and steepled his finger again. He was a very deliberate man. You could
almost hear the wheels turning in his head.

“I need to ask a favor, sir,” I
said. “I want your permission to interrogate Deputy Commissioner Todd.”

“Impossible. You are a foreign
national. This will be an internal matter. We must…”

“I have a personal stake in this.
These people abducted a friend of mine in Florida. We believe the incidents are
connected. If we are right, Ian Todd may be the key. I have an idea that could resolve
this situation and give your department some political cover. Let me explain
what I propose.”

It took a bit of fancy footwork,
but Commissioner Adair reluctantly appointed me to a temporary position as
Special Investigator. If I failed to crack the case, he could blame the whole
mess on me.

“This is going to cause a lot of
trouble,” Commissioner Adair said. “You aren’t a Bahamian, but I want this
cleared up immediately and you have the facts at your finger tips.”

Turning to Madison, he said, “Superintendent
Todd, you will observe and record the interrogation with the Internal Bureau
Commander. I don’t care how you do it, find out what he knows, and do it
quickly.

Adair called his Internal Bureau
Commander who was on Bimini for an inspection tour and told him to haul ass
back to Nassau for a special assignment.

Two hours later, I was going down
the second of two steep flights of stairs with Madison, trailed by Major
Charles Core, head of Internal Branch, their Internal Affairs, and a young
lieutenant named Hawes who carried a video camera and a tripod. The three
Bahamian police officers were all grim faced. There was no scenario where this
could go well.

“We’re going to the oldest section
of the complex,” Major Core explained.

“The original building was erected
in the 1890s,” Madison said. “It’s been refurbished several times. There is
electricity and ventilation, but it’s the subbasement-rather like a dungeon.”

“We don’t use it much,” Core added.
“It’s perfect for our purposes.”

At the base of the stairs, there
was a wide landing and a steel door. Madison opened the door and I followed
her. The hall was musty and dim. I could see why it didn’t get much use. The
walls, painted a dingy white were reminiscent of an ancient castle. The stone
floor was worn smooth from decades of use. Condensation sparkled under a row of
rough industrial lights. Heavy rusting doors lined the left side of the hall.
The place had a dank hopeless feel like something out of the
Count of Monte
Cristo
. It was perfect.