The Collectors Book Five (The Collectors Series 5) (23 page)

              “Help me face the media, Petros,” said Alfredo. “Your keen eyes saved three from a watery grave.”

              Together they stood on the jetty, answered a barrage of questions while Alfredo’s wife hugged his arm and Tommaso’s girlfriend wound her arm around Petros.

              With every question answered at least twice, Petros held up his right arm. “One more and we’re finished.”

              Alfredo pointed to a middle-aged man. “He’s a local reporter, I’ll answer his.”

              The last question answered, Petros took a deep breath and grabbed Alfredo. “Let’s get going.”

              The two women lingered on the jetty before Isabella said, “What time will you be home?”

              Alfredo shrugged. “I have things to do. This evening, maybe six or seven.”

              “We eat at seven.”

              Petros and Alfredo made their way to the crew’s mess.

              “Marco, some sandwiches please and two cups of coffee.” He turned to Petros. “In a few days a manned submersible with its equipment and driver will be on the stern. I will have it delivered early morning but many may become aware of it before we sail. I have ordered my crew to keep their mouths shut. I have promised them a bonus. You need to contact your man in London.”

              “Alfredo, take our bar of gold and hide it. If this goes pear-shaped you can give them their bonus.”

              “If I thought you might cheat on me you would not be here. I know people in Palermo who slit throats for fun.”

              Petros gave him a strange look. “You mean the Cosa Nostra?”

              “Do not say the name. The rules forbid discussing them around outsiders. And some questions are better not asked.”

***

Scarlet Orlando returned to her flat in the better part of Syracuse and found the middle-aged, grey-haired, Giovanni Silvio watching the news on television. She noted his pensive expression, strolled into the kitchen and made two cups of coffee. One she placed on the small table in front of him.

              He lifted his head and gave a suspicious frown. “Where have they been?”

              “They were searching for a wreck but didn’t find it. When a boat full of corpses turned up they returned to harbour.”

              His snappy mood faded. “As a reporter, don’t you find that puzzling?”

              “No.”

              “Find a reason to visit that boat.”

              “I don’t need a reason. One of the crew is a dish.”

              “Most men want to get into your knickers.”

              She flashed a sparkling smile. “Must be my irresistible charm.”

              “More than likely your bedside manner.”

              “Why do you have to lower everything to your level?”

              “It’s what you do best. You live in this apartment free of charge and have a good job because for the moment, you satisfy my needs.”

              She bit her lip and remained silent.

              Giovanni stood, straightened the jacket of his expensive dark blue suit and pushed her aside. “I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. Find out where that boat went and why. Sleep with the guy if you have to.”

              She heard the door slam. “Bastard, get stuffed. I’m good at my job. I’ll show you.”

Chapter Sixteen

Irritated, Roland Wallace slammed the handset of the phone into its cradle. “Why do I have to do everything?” His eyes never left the fifty-five inch screen on the far wall as he pressed playback. “I see you, Mr Kyriades, but why are you in Palermo standing on a fishing boat?”

He pressed the memory button on his mobile. “Yes, boss.”

              “Peter, where the fuck are you? I want you here like yesterday.”

              “Is there a problem?”

              “There will be if you don’t get your slack arse over here.”

              “Ten minutes.”

              The call ended.

***

Peter Fox’s face remained guarded as he entered the private lift to his boss’s penthouse.

              Roland looked livid. “When I phone I expect you to jump and never ask how high. Have you been watching the news?”

              “Why?”

              “The man Kyriades is on a fishing vessel in Palermo. I want to know why.”

              Peter shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Why is that name familiar?”

              “He’s the guy who found a ship full of gold according to the information Johnston gave us. Your mother’s Sicilian; find out why he’s in Palermo.”

              Peter took a deep breath and looked Roland straight in the eyes. “If he’s found it, what do you have in mind?”

              “Simple. I want it. And if I have to rid this world of a few nobodies, I will. Time you made tracks. Ring me on my pay-as-you-go when you have some information. In fact ring me tomorrow with information or I’ll have your bollocks grilled and served on a plate for the dog to eat.”

***

Peter Fox arrived in Palermo at six in the evening. Outside the airport arrivals, a chauffeur-driven car waited to drive him to the house of Gabriele Silvio, the Padrino of Palermo.

              At the entrance to the grounds, a broad-shouldered guard in a black t-shirt and black trousers assisted by another stern-faced individual, body-searched Peter and emptied his case.

              “You know me, why bother?” said Peter in fluent Italian as he shoved everything back.

              “The boss demands and we oblige. He’s in the main dining room. Don’t keep him waiting.”

              At the main door to the house, a man dressed as a steward ordered him to follow.

              Gabriele sat at the end of a long wooden table with the other occupant of the room, his younger brother Giovanni. He stopped in mid-conversation as Peter entered. “Come, wonderful to see you. Your mother, she is well? She’s been away a long time.”

              “Always a pleasure to be with you, Padrino. My mother is well and sends her love to you, your wife, and beautiful children.”

              “You flew with easy Jet? You must be tired and hungry. Sit at my table and eat, the pasta is homemade.”

              The steward pulled back a chair for Peter.

              “Roland mentioned you have a matter of great importance to discuss which requires my assistance.”

              Peter finished one mouthful before speaking. “I’ll not waste your time. The vessel
Tuna Turner
, what do you know of her?”

              “Ah, Alfredo’s boat. An honest man who pays his dues, and works hard. I have no difficulty with him. Why do you ask?”

              “Roland believes a man named Petros Kyriades from London guided him to a shipwreck full of gold.”

              “You have my attention.”

              “In exchange for a share Roland asks you to supervise the operation.”

              Gabriele frowned. “I need more information but my first thought is to let Alfredo do the work as regards the recovery. At a predetermined point in time, we highjack the vessel and take the gold. They carry no weapons and another ex-fishing boat lost at sea will not trouble the police. They have enough problems with boats full of refugees.”

              “So I can tell Roly it’s a go.”

              “No. Tell him I want fifty percent and you, Peter, at my side. If he agrees then it’s a go. Remind him I could take it all but a war is not necessary. He has London and I have Palermo. Life is good. You may use one of my phones.”

              The steward carried a silver tray with six different mobiles. Peter chose an old Motorola.

              “When you finish your call, we change the card and the unit is sold. My scavengers, as I call them, deliver twenty a day to one of my shops near the harbour. The passengers from the cruise ships have little time to report their loss before sailing.”

              Peter smiled and nodded as he spoke. “Good evening, boss. The deal is fifty percent and I go with him.” After a few seconds, he replaced the unit on the tray. “It’s a go.”

              “What did he call me?”

              “Opportunist.”

              “Are you sure it wasn’t something similar to thieving Sicilian bastard?”

              He grinned, “A few of those words sound familiar.”

              “Let’s drink to cooperation and prosperity.”

              “And why not?”

              The two brothers and Peter enjoyed a superb meal and after a few glasses of wine went to their rooms.

              Giovanni lay on his bed visualising a ship full of gold.

***

Whenever possible, Petros jogged six to ten miles early in the morning including the weekends. He paused at a busy Palermo crossroads and waited for the lights to change. A few hundred metres along he stopped at a cafe. From the outside, it appeared spotless. He paid for two egg mayonnaise sandwiches and a glass of fresh orange juice from the self-service bar. At an empty table next to a window he sat, ate, and watched the world go by. The noise of conversation throughout the room made it difficult to separate one sound from another. He pressed the memory button on his mobile for James Eden.

              “Petros, good morning. Was the cruise beneficial?”

              “More than you think. We discovered many large containers in the hold.”

              “That’s excellent.”

              “We have a name. Jupiter. 1927. Built Harland and Wolf, Belfast. I imagine whoever owned her has long forgotten.”

              “If she’s still on a company’s books they may well claim ownership of the cargo. I’ll check it out and get back.” He paused. “Oh, I’ve completed my searches in Germany and Greece and found nothing. What are your plans?”

              “A few days relaxation and then continue the cruise. I understand from the captain we’ll be carrying extra cargo.”

              “I recommend you contact me before resuming your cruise. I might have something of interest to discuss.”

              “Give you a bell tomorrow.” The line went dead.

              For a time, he strolled around the town. In a square, he sat on the worn steps that circled an ornate fountain, and stared at the dark clouds mushrooming from Mount Etna. No one took any notice of him when he contacted and spoke to Maria and Alysa.

***

James Eden lifted the handset on his desk to telephone a long-time-friend at Lloyds Shipping. On the seventh ring, the call connected. “Lloyds, Karen speaking. How may I assist?”

              “I’d like to speak to Edward Hammond.”             

              “Your name please?”

              “James Eden.”

              “His line is busy. Please can you call back later?”

              “No, I can’t. Edward told me to ring him as soon as I gathered certain information for him. You can tell him I’ll call when I’m not busy.”

              Karen replied. “One moment, Mr Eden. I’ll interrupt his call.”

              Edward came on the line in a few seconds. “James, you must want something.”

              “I require a favour.”

              “If I charge you the going rate I might be very busy but...”

              “Five hundred cash.”

              “Strange how priorities can change. What do you want?”

              “I need all the information you can find on a vessel named Jupiter. Built 1927 at Harland and Wolf, Belfast.”

              “As a starter for ten, anything that old is either scrapped or a museum piece.”