Fifth Victim (7 page)

She threw up her hands. ‘What’s being popular got to do with anything?’

I felt my eyebrows climb, heard the trace of acid creep into my voice. ‘Would you rather I’d just let him hit you?’

Her eyes skated away from mine. ‘He wouldn’t have,’ she said, but it wasn’t me she was trying hardest to convince. She stared glumly at the sparkling toes of her evening shoes. ‘What am I going to do now? They’ll all be laughing at me.’

I regarded her for a moment. ‘So, encourage them.’

That snapped her head up. ‘What?’

‘Make light of it,’ I said. ‘Make a joke of it. Tell everyone he should be bloody grateful you were drinking champagne and not red wine or he would have looked like an extra from a Tarantino movie.’

She tried to look scandalised but couldn’t sustain it. I caught the distinct edge of a smile curve her lips, quickly squashed. The gesture reminded me of Torquil himself, when she’d given him the engraved Swiss Army knife. What was it about being rich, I wondered, that made these people so determined to be miserable?

We plodded on towards the exit gate, Dina stepping carefully over the gapped planks in her high heels. Behind us, Torquil’s two heavies followed at a suitable distance, just to make sure we really did vacate the property.

The sound of a vehicle pulling up beyond the security fence had me instantly wary. I put a cautionary hand on Dina’s arm.

‘Slow down,’ I murmured, eyes on the new arrival – a stretch Lincoln with the usual limo-black tint on the glass, riding low and heavy. From it, four obvious close-protection guys emerged with the care and technique needed for debussing from an armoured personnel carrier in a hot zone. To my mind, it was way over the top for the situation, calling unnecessary attention to the occupants, but they certainly made the existing gate security look like monkeys. Maybe that was the point.

After a long pause, during which time they stared hard at anything that moved, and at quite a bit that didn’t, one nodded to the others. The rear door of the limo opened again and a couple climbed out. They were both in their late teens or early twenties, and dressed to kill.

Alongside me, Dina gave a gasp. I guessed without being told that these two were the other kidnap victims, whose possible non-arrival had caused Torquil such anxiety. They were ushered through the gate without the usual checks and strode towards us along the planking.

The boy was short, almost squat, with dark curly hair and Mediterranean heritage written in the olive skin and the facial bones. He had on a dark dinner suit with the bow tie undone and he kept one hand in his pocket as though he’d practised the brooding-yet-casual look in the mirror before he came out.

The girl wore a voluminous sable coat, together with a wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, even in the dark. I waited to see if any of this would cause her to trip and fall into the water, but she negotiated the jetty with practised ease.

Dina froze, giving a fairly good impression of a deer in the headlights. It was only when the couple neared us that any flicker of recognition passed across the boy’s face at the sight of Dina. It was followed by a hint of contempt, and he would have swept right on past us, had the girl not stepped round him and grasped Dina lightly by her upper arms, air-kissing her on both cheeks. I suddenly saw her profile in the light for the first time, and I realised with shock that I knew exactly who she was.

‘Dina, honey!’ she said. ‘Surely you’re not leaving already?’

Yeah, Dina. Let’s go. Let’s go right now
.

My attempts to will my principal into a course of action proved a failure. Dina stepped back with confused surprise on her face at the unexpected warmth of this welcome. She threw a quick glance in my direction, as if afraid of my reaction. ‘Uh, well, I—’

‘Oh, but you
can’t
go now,’ the girl said firmly, linking her arm through Dina’s and steering her back in the direction of the yacht club. ‘Not when this party’s just about to get interesting.’

I was pretty sure I knew what constituted her definition of
interesting
, and was equally positive I didn’t want to stick around long enough to make sure.

The boy gave an impatient shrug. ‘She wants to leave, let her go, Manda,’ he said, dismissive.

‘It’s not that,’ Dina said quickly, voice rising. She snatched another look at me and disengaged herself with obvious regret, swallowing. ‘Look, I’d love to stay, honestly, but maybe this isn’t a good time. Torquil and I, we had a-a falling out over a glass of champagne. I tripped and he kinda ended up wearing most of it …’ Her voice petered away at their blank expressions. She straightened her spine with a determinedly carefree little smile. ‘Lucky for him I wasn’t drinking red wine, huh?’

Manda’s eyebrows rose far enough to appear over the frames of her designer sunglasses, then she let loose a big grin that belied the cool appearance. Even the boy stopped scowling for long enough to look briefly amused.

‘Priceless,’ Manda drawled, glancing at him sideways. ‘I told you we should have gotten here earlier, Ben-Ben.’

The boy did not look like he enjoyed being called ‘Ben-Ben’ in public. ‘We’re here now, aren’t we?’ he said. ‘Where the hell’s Tor? I need a drink.’

Right on cue, I felt the planks bouncing under our feet as someone came hurrying along the jetty. I turned and saw Torquil had emerged at the far end, near the yacht club, and was approaching as fast as he could without actually running.

‘Manda! Benedict! Great to see you!’ He was trying desperately for casual, but the stress of relief came across all too clearly in the pitch and timbre of his voice. He swallowed, said more normally, ‘Glad you could make it.’

‘Hey, Tor,’ Manda said, offhand. ‘How could we miss your little party?’ She reduced all this extravagance to the level of having half a dozen kindergarten tots round for a slice of cake and a cup of flat lemonade. And just as he began to look crestfallen, she hit him with, ‘Dina was just telling us all about your silly little spat.’

Torquil flashed me a look that was part hate, part fear, but pure poison. I stared right back, keeping my face bland, and he wisely refrained from comment.

Manda eyed Torquil for a moment longer, expectantly, then turned to Dina. ‘Come on, let’s go aboard Tor’s little boat and find Ben-Ben a drink before he
dies
of thirst, and then you can tell us all about it.’

‘No!’ I would have objected myself, but it was Dina, to my surprise, who dug her toes in first. She realised it had come out too stark and softened it down with a smile that held genuine regret. ‘I’m real sorry, Manda,’ she said hastily. ‘But I don’t want to spoil Torquil’s birthday, so we’ll—’

‘Oh, that’s so sweet of you,’ Manda interrupted. ‘Well, honey, our limo’s still here. Tell you what, why don’t the three of us go find somewhere to have a drink? Tor won’t mind if we skip out, I’m sure.’

But it didn’t take an expert in body language to tell that Tor did mind. He minded like hell.

The two security men he’d sent to escort us out were hovering with their mouths open, unsure what to do next. The other partygoers who’d received their special invitations had emerged from the yacht club and were closing fast on their way to the Eisenberg liner, with Hunt and Orlando in the lead.

Torquil must have known that for Benedict and Manda to leave now, so soon after arriving and with Dina so publicly in tow, would be the ultimate humiliation. He only had one realistic option, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

‘It would spoil the party if you left, Dina,’ he said, with an almost credible attempt at sincerity. ‘Stay.’ I’m sure it was only shock that made her keep him waiting for a response, but he flushed at her silence and added through clenched teeth, ‘Please.’

‘I … er … yes,’ Dina said faintly. ‘Of course. Thank you, Torquil.’

He glared at her. ‘Don’t mention it,’ he said, his tone ominous. His gaze swung to me. ‘But your
friend
still needs to leave.’

CHAPTER TEN

There was a long pause after Torquil’s last statement. It was eventually broken not by Dina but by Manda, who threw her head back and began to laugh.

‘Oh Tor, honey, that’s just priceless,’ she said, indicating me with a languid wave. ‘But there’s no way
she’s
going to walk out of here and leave Dina behind to your tender mercies.’ It was the first time she’d acknowledged my presence.

Torquil subjected me to a rapid scrutiny as if afraid he’d missed something obvious. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally had to admit defeat. He knew the joke was on him somehow, but he couldn’t work out what or how. ‘Why the hell not?’ he demanded.

Manda laughed again as she removed her dark glasses. I caught the brief flicker of her eyes and realised she’d been waiting for the crowd to arrive. She wanted an audience.

Some things never change
.

‘Because, honey, that’s not how professional bodyguards behave, is it, Charlie?’ she said, loud enough to carry. ‘And I ought to know, huh?’

If I’d been hoping for anything else, it was too late now. In my peripheral vision I registered shock in varying degrees. There was no point in denial. Suppressing a sigh, I agreed gravely, ‘Yes, Amanda, you ought.’

Her face twitched. ‘It’s Manda,’ she said sharply. ‘I haven’t been called
that
for years.’

Two years, certainly. Two years since Amanda Dempsey had briefly proved the bane of my life, trying to protect her old-monied family from threats largely manufactured by their own wilful teenage daughter. Caroline Willner’s fears for Dina, by comparison, were mild and unjustified.

I jerked my head towards the limo. ‘I see you’ve progressed from sneaking out over the castle wall at night.’

‘Yeah, my trust fund finally kicked in.’

I nodded slowly. ‘How is your father these days?’

‘He’s dead,’ she said with a ripe satisfaction, and when that failed to elicit the expected response, she added reluctantly, ‘Natural causes, I’m sorry to say. The old bastard had a stroke.’

Well, you’ve been doing your best to bring that on since you were fourteen
.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be,’ she said with spirit that held more than a touch of bravado. ‘I’m not.’

Benedict made an impatient noise in his throat. ‘Sorry to break up the touching reunion,’ he said acidly, ‘but are we gonna stand around here all night, or are we getting on the damned boat?’

Torquil jerked out of stasis. ‘Yeah, uh, let’s go aboard.’ He brushed past me without eye contact and shook his head briefly to the two gorillas. They shrugged and turned away. Manda determinedly took Dina’s arm again.

With Torquil in the lead, we followed him along the network of jetties, through another security gate, and approached what must have been the largest and most luxurious vessel in the place. I let out a low whistle under my breath. With an unblemished dark-blue hull, white upper decks and tinted glass, the superyacht’s huge superstructure was raked back so that it seemed to be moving at high speed even lying graceful at its berth. It screamed of money and class.

The yacht must have been the best part of three hundred feet long. It was wider than a house. I counted about four separate deck levels, plus a helicopter pad. Every deck had big sliding glass doors that opened out onto private balconies, and most had a jacuzzi or a hot tub. Even by Long Island standards, the whole thing was a monstrous display of wealth.

As we neared it, the yacht suddenly lit up, underwater neon turning the surrounding water into an ice-blue glow and sending any aquatic life scattering. Deck lights blazed. There was an audible intake of breath from those approaching, and Torquil turned to catch the reaction. It must have been all he hoped for, because he treated us to a wide smile, the first sign of genuine pleasure he’d shown all evening.

Short of grappling hooks, the only way to scale the endless smooth sides of the yacht was via the lower deck area at the stern, presumably for diving or swimming – although why you’d want to get into the nasty old sea when there were so many private swimming pools on board was anybody’s guess.

Two crewmen wearing an approximation of naval officers’ white dress uniform were standing by to help us along the short gangplank. A gently curving staircase led to the next level, a pool deck, with yet more discreet neon under the water and flanked by sunloungers. I took one look at the acres of teak decking on view and was glad my evening shoes did not have the kind of spiked heels that would leave a trail of damage. Nobody else seemed to bother.

More crew appeared with trays of canapés and drinks, their faces carefully blank to the revelry winding itself into full swing around them. The yacht boasted a sound system with external speakers that must have had half the harbour reverberating to the beat. After about ten minutes, I began to wish I’d brought the ear defenders I normally reserved for visits to the gun range.

It was the kind of party where several people were bound to end up flinging themselves, shrieking, into one of the pools before the night was out – either fully clothed or completely naked, take your pick.

Nobody seemed to bother much about that, either.

I tried to keep a careful eye on Dina without gluing myself to her side, although the yacht had been designed with the privacy of its guests in mind. Every deck had its own personal sun deck, none of which were visible from the others. I was only too aware that things could very quickly get out of hand.

As standard operating procedure, I’d already identified myself to the ship’s captain, pointed out my principal and asked for notification if anyone tried to take her off the yacht without me in attendance. By his reaction, this kind of request was not unusual.

Still, she was my responsibility, and she didn’t need to be taken ashore in order to be taken advantage of, so I ended up doing a constant roving sweep, no mean feat on a boat that size. Dina, apparently oblivious, danced with various people on the pool deck, sat and chatted to others in the thickly carpeted main salon area below. If her earlier experience with Torquil and the glass of champagne had unsettled her, she gave no sign of it. I saw nothing to alert me that she was in danger.