The Devil's Trinity

Chapter 7

James Starling was satisfied with the outcome of the meeting with the President and his advisers. But although he appeared relaxed as he sat in the back of the big Ford sedan as it swept away from the Whitehouse, he was far from it. Sitting beside him in the relative peace and quiet of the car, Francesini appeared thoughtful; the memory of his meeting with the President burning fresh in his mind as though he was still in the Oval Office. Perhaps he should have felt nervous and apprehensive because he had staked his entire future career and personal credibility on a hunch; and there was no bigger person to gamble that hunch with than the President himself.

What Francesini had persuaded the President to agree to, meant that he had committed the American Government to an act of what could only be conceived as piracy, without having much more than a credible argument. The famous scientist, Albert Einstein once said that if the theory doesn’t fit the facts, change the facts. Well in this case, Francesini’s theory was based on facts that he was unable to change, and if his theory got into the hands of the American Press and hence the public domain there would be more at stake than Francesini’s reputation and career. And if he was right, the lives of thousands of Americans could be forfeit if the President failed to act on it.

Through the blackened, one way glass of the car windows he watched the buildings of Capitol Hill flashing past. People hurried along the sidewalks, their lives and destiny probably under their own control, but without giving a thought to people like him and Starling; unconsciously relying on them to let the President know of any threat, real or imagined, that might devastate their very normal, controlled lives.

Mr. and Mrs. average American. Do they really have two point four children? Who cared anyway whether they had a whole football team; their lives were not there to be played ball with by politicians and security agents who could not do their jobs properly.

The phone rang. Starling picked it up, grunted and handed the phone to Francesini, listening carefully to his subordinate’s responses.

“Anything? Nothing? Nothing at all?” He looked up and cursed softly.

Starling watched Francesini pause for a moment, obviously thinking through to the next decision he was going to make. He put the phone back to his ear.

“I’ll be over. Set up a meeting with Inspector Bain; he’s head of the Bahamian C.I.D. Tomorrow, first thing.”

He handed the phone back to Starling who put it back in its resting place beside him, and waited for Francesini to tell him what it was all about.

“I had two of my guys search Greg Walsh’s home at Freeport; see if they could find anything relating to Walsh’s commission with Khan. Marsh’s place too. They found nothing.”

The car stopped for a red light. Starling watched the pedestrians crossing, some running, some with their heads down, others deep in conversation with whoever was beside them. It was so normal. It was a beautiful day out there and he would have given anything to be sitting with his wife in their garden, relaxing and their only concern would be what they would be having for their evening meal.

“So why am I not surprised?” the admiral asked as Francesini put the thought away.

Francesini looked at him briefly, and then studied the closely shaved head of the driver in front of him.

“Because you think this is a wild goose chase?” he asked.

Starling chuckled. “If only.” The car moved off, accelerating quickly. “If only this was a dream and we could wake up. You forget, Remo, I know you and your hunches; that’s one of the reasons I employ you. Whatever Walsh had, if he thought it was important, really important, he would have kept it in the bank or some secure safe somewhere else. And remember, Marsh promised to see if he could find anything in his partner’s belongings that could help us. ”

It was Francesini’s turn to chuckle. “Sir, have you ever put something away for safe keeping and when you wanted it, you just couldn’t remember where you’d put it? And no amount of searching would turn it up?”

“If I had to admit to that under oath Remo, I would,” he joked.

“Well, I figured that no amount of searching from an amateur like Marsh would unearth it. That’s why I decided to get my men to do it.”

“And they found nothing.”

Francesini nodded lamely. “That’s why I’m going over there.”

Marsh phoned Helen and told her that his place had been searched as well, but he didn’t think anything had been taken. There was little else for him to do there so he drove back to Helen’s place. She took Marsh into town and dropped him off near his bank. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and Marsh agreed to phone her the following day. He watched the pick-up truck disappear and walked into the bank.

About two hours later, Marsh was back at his house when there was a knock on the door. He had almost finished a meal and wondered if it might have been Helen, but it was more wishful thinking than anything else. He opened the door and his heart dropped when he saw Julio Batista standing there. Beside him was one of the biggest men Marsh had ever seen in his life.

“Hallo Julio,” he said the surprise evident in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hallo Marsh,” Batista replied. He turned slightly and gestured towards the giant standing beside him. “Allow me to introduce my friend, Malik.”

Marsh looked up at him. “Malik, just that?” The big man nodded. “So what do you want Julio?”

“May we come in?”

Marsh knew from their body language that this was not going to be a social call. He tried to put them off.

“I’m afraid it isn’t convenient,” he told them.

Batista shrugged. “No matter, I can tell you what I want just as easy standing out here.”

“So what do you want?” Marsh asked, the irritation clear in his voice.

“Someone wishes to meet you.” He gestured. “We have a car. It’s only a short drive and we will not take up too much of your time.”

The warning bells began to sound clearly in Marsh’s head, but there was nothing in Batista’s manner that was threatening. Perhaps that last statement was meant to put him at ease.

“Who wants to see me?”

“My employer, Hakeem Khan,” Batista told him.

Marsh looked at Malik and felt just a slight shiver of apprehension slither down his spine. “I have already told you, Julio; I don’t want a job. I’m sure Mister Khan will find somebody else suitable for whatever it is”.

“He wants you,” Batista insisted. “And he would prefer to hear your refusal himself.”

“And what makes Mister Khan think I want a job?” Marsh wondered how far this would go before Malik was brought into the discussion, because he was quite certain that was the reason he was there. “I have plenty to do here.”

Batista shrugged. “Well of course, that’s your choice. But you’re a businessman and this is business.”

“What kind of business?”

Batista shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to tell you, Marsh; I am just the messenger.”

Marsh pointed at Malik. “So what’s he doing here?”

“Why don’t you ask him, Marsh? He speaks English.”

Marsh didn’t have to; he knew why Malik was there. Marsh either went willingly or he would be encouraged by Malik.

He shrugged, deciding that discretion might just be the better part of valour, providing he could let Helen know. A kind of insurance he reasoned.

“What the hell, Julio. OK then. But give me a couple of minutes.”

Batista face broke out into a little smile as though he was relieved that force would not be necessary. “Fine, we’ll wait here,” he told Marsh.

Marsh went back inside and phoned Helen. The phone continued to ring until her answering service came on. He left a message and rang again, just in case she was away from the phone, but there was no reply; just the answering service. He put the phone down and frowned. It wasn’t like Helen not to have her cell phone with her, or close at hand anyway. He picked up his own cell phone and went out to the waiting car.

Very little was said as Malik drove. Marsh was content to wait and consider the implications. He knew there was nothing to be gained by asking Batista what was going on, and any other conversation would just be small talk anyway.

Malik drove into the Lucayan Beach Hotel forecourt and swung smoothly into a vacant parking lot. They climbed out of the car and Marsh followed Batista into the lobby. Malik remained in the foyer as Marsh and Batista went straight over to the lifts.

Two minutes later, Marsh came face to face with Hakeem Khan.

Helen knew how a lot of people reacted to being burgled by saying it made them feel unclean for some reason. Now she was feeling traumatised by the shock of what she felt was almost like a physical violation, although the burglary was unlike others. Helen assumed that whoever had been in her villa were professionals and they were looking for something specific, although she had no idea what it might be. But she was determined to remain philosophical and try to get things back on an even keel. So it was for that reason that she believed she should carry on as though nothing had happened. Put it to the back of her mind. She decided to have something to eat but she didn’t feel like cooking, so a take away meal seemed to be the answer.

Helen drove down town to a Pizza restaurant that served take-away meals. She ordered a pizza and climbed back into the pick-up. There was a lot on her mind as she drove back to her villa and wasn’t aware that a red Buick had been following her for a while.

She turned in to her road and swung into the driveway, bringing the pick-up to a halt beneath the carport. As she stepped out of the truck, she saw the Buick turn into the driveway. It raced up the short drive, tyres squealing and stopped.

A tall, rangy black man got out of the passenger door of the Buick and before Helen could say anything, he walked up to her, clamped his hand over her mouth and threw his arm round her waist. It was so sudden that Helen didn’t take it in for a second or two. Then as the realisation of what was happening hit her, she began to struggle violently, but the man was so strong she had no effect on him.

He lifted her off the ground as the driver of the Buick got out of the car and opened the rear door. Helen was flung into the back and her captor threw himself on top of her. She tried to cry out but the force of his full weight on her just caused her to grunt, and he still had his hand clamped over her mouth. She heard the doors slam shut and felt the Buick reverse out of the drive and roar off up the road. Everything had happened so quickly that not even sixty seconds had passed.

Helen’s pick-up truck still had its driver’s door open and on the seat lay her handbag and the takeaway pizza still warm beside it.

“Can I get you a drink Marsh?”

Hakeem Khan had welcomed him almost like an old friend. He shook his hand warmly and guided him to a chair, then went over to sideboard where a couple of bottles stood with glasses beside them. There was also a bucket of ice and sliced lemons and limes. Marsh refused the drink. Khan seemed unperturbed by that and left the empty glasses where they were. As he took a seat opposite Marsh, he fluttered a hand at Batista who left the room.

Marsh looked around the hotel room. It was elegant and obviously expensive, but to a man of Khan’s wealth it was something he would have been quite used to.

Khan looked the epitome of a man at ease with himself. He had the complexion of someone who had spent most of his working life at sea, which added to the aura of composure. He was wearing cream slacks, a simple cotton shirt and leather, slip-on shoes. Although his hair was grey, it was well groomed and he still had plenty there. His smile revealed a full set of white teeth. On his wrist was a gold Rolex watch, and on the finger of one hand a ring of enormous size. Marsh doubted that Khan wore anything like that when he was at sea.

“Now Marsh,” he began. “First I must say I was appalled to hear of your partner’s death, such a sad loss; not only to his wife, but to yourself and the business. And you were so lucky not to have been killed as well. Tell me, what happened?”

Marsh wondered how much of the affectation Khan would put on before they got down to the real reason for his visit.

“I remember very little about it,” Marsh lied. “One minute we were afloat, next thing I know is I wake up on someone’s boat. Even now I have a great deal of trouble recalling the moments leading up to the accident. I think we struck something submerged.” It was enough. He doubted if Khan would want to probe deeper.

“Still, it is so sad. And we are happy that you survived.” He brought the palms of his hands together in a soft, clapping motion. “Now, the reason I have asked you here is to offer you a job. I want you to pilot the Challenger.”

Marsh sighed. If he was supposed to dance with joy at the prospect of piloting the submersible for what would prove to be a lucrative salary, it wasn’t going to work; Khan would be disappointed.

“I told Batista that I didn’t want a job.”

Khan nodded and put his hand up. “I know, I know. But perhaps Julio did not explain to you the reason why I have asked you.”

“No, he didn’t,” Marsh agreed. “Neither did he tell me why you can’t pilot the Challenger yourself. You’ve done it before.”

“That’s true, but I would be risking too much. I have a serious heart condition, Marsh. I’m sure you can appreciate the dilemma I’m in. I need an experienced pilot, and there are very few available. If any,” he added

“I didn’t know about your heart condition,” Marsh answered honestly. “Perhaps the result of too many deep dives?”

Khan smiled. “Old age, I think. But the truth is that I could not risk piloting the Challenger in my condition.”

“But why me? Surely there are others that can be trained?”

“Why is not important, Marsh,” Khan replied. “You are the man I want.”

“Suppose I am already under contract?”

“You are not. If you had been, I would have bought the contract out.”

Marsh whistled softly at the breath-taking arrogance of the man. “What else do you know?”

“I know that the Helena is not ready for sea. And without Walsh you cannot operate her and your company cannot function.”

Marsh shook his head. “Helen Walsh has worked on saturation dives with me before. We could cope.”

“That is academic,” Khan interrupted. “You need a good team on the surface. Together the three of you might have been good, but now you are only two.”

Marsh knew he was right. There would be no commissions from the oil companies or ocean survey institutes until he had recruited and trained somebody to take Greg’s place. Without money to back the yard, it would be difficult for them to operate again unless he worked for Khan. But Khan was linked to the death of Greg. Even if the man did not pull the trigger, Marsh knew that there was some kind of conspiracy going on and Khan was heavily involved in it. To walk into Khan’s lair could be like walking into a lion’s den, and from that there would be no way out.

At that moment there was a gentle knock on the door. It opened and Malik came into the room with Batista. Marsh had noticed before that Malik was completely bald, but now it put him in mind of the eunuchs he had seen as a child in the Hollywood films of Arabian adventures.

Malik walked over to Khan, leaned close and whispered something in his ear. Khan’s eyes widened in what looked like triumph to Marsh. Naturally he was curious but he could do nothing about it. Then Khan’s expression changed and he returned his attention to Marsh.

“Now, what is your answer; do we have an agreement or not?”

Marsh felt uncomfortable. Khan hadn’t been listening to him. He glanced at Malik and wondered just what kind of chance he had of bolting for the door. But it was an impulsive thought and he didn’t really believe there was any threat in Khan’s manner. He pushed the impulse from his mind and concentrated on arguing his way out.

“Khan, you know these kinds of arrangements can take time to work out. Contracts have to be drawn up by lawyers; schedules have to be worked out, contract options, timescales. It isn’t simply a question of turning up at the shop and starting work”.

Khan interrupted him. “We don’t have time for that Marsh. My word is my bond and you will be well paid, I can assure you.”

Marsh bit the bullet. “The answer is no, I never take on a commission without a legally binding contract. I’m sorry.” He stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot to do.”

As he made a move for the door, Malik stepped forward and put his hand on Marsh’s chest. Khan gestured to Batista who pulled a mobile phone from his pocket and dialled a number. Marsh looked on, bewildered. Suddenly, Batista thrust the phone at Marsh.

“Take it,” he ordered.

Marsh hesitated and Malik took the phone from Batista and handed it to Marsh. There was no need for Marsh to be told a second time. He held the phone to his ear and listened. For a while there was just a hollow silence. Then he heard the unmistakeable sound of a woman’s cry of anguish and suddenly she was breathing down the phone. Marsh didn’t know what he was supposed to do, so he said hello. It sounded inane.

“Who’s that?” the woman gasped. “Please, what’s happening?”

Marsh felt the pain of recognition strike him like a knife. “Helen?” His eyes opened wide, still unable to grasp the impact of what he heard.

“Helen?” he called again. “It’s Marsh.”

“Oh Marsh, Marsh,” she cried. “Tell me what’s happening, for God’s sake. Why are they doing this to me?”

Her voice stopped instantly and the phone went dead.

“Helen!” Marsh shouted. “Helen, answer me!”

Malik took the phone from Marsh’s hand as easily as taking a toy from a child. Marsh looked at him with a pained expression in his face. Then he looked at Batista and finally at Khan, who was sitting quite calmly and unconcerned.

“You bastard!” Marsh shouted and launched himself at Khan, but Malik’s speed was so quick that he caught Marsh before he could finish the first step and swung him away from Khan bringing him crashing to his knees with a resounding slap to the side of Marsh’s head. The pain roared through his body and took the strength from his legs. He went down like a bag of cement.

Khan got up from his chair and knelt beside Marsh.

“Now you understand Marsh what is required of you. The woman will remain our guest until it is finished.”

Marsh knew then that he really had stumbled into the lion’s den and that his life was probably forfeit. The thought frightened him, but what scared him even more was that Helen’s life probably was too.