Follow the Evidence (A Mac Everett Mystery Book 2) (14 page)

“This guy Cox, what was he like
when you talked to him,” I asked. “Did he seem on the up and up?

“It’s hard to tell on the phone,
but he sounded solid,” Hilton replied.

“You didn’t go talk to him?” I
demanded.

“What was the point? The guy said
the sloop had been there and he’d seen three people on her when she left.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” I
demanded. “You didn’t interview the guy face to face?”

“I told you, there was no point in
going all the way out there.”

“I have a surprise for you, Agent
Hilton. There were only two people on the
Wind Dancer
. Hannah London
flew home that night. I talked to her yesterday.”

“That can’t be!” Hilton said. “The
guy said…”

“He lied. The question is why and
what else did he lie about.”

“Damn.” Hilton said.

“Madison, you were quick to tell us
where Sandy Cay was,” I pointed out. “Would you recognize it in a photo?”

“Possibly,” she replied.

I pulled out my investigative
folder and dug through it until I found the two pictures of Sergio Sebastian.
“What can you tell me about these two shots,” I asked.

“It’s not Sandy Cay,” she said with
authority.

“What? Why not,” Hilton demanded.

“See the building in the
background, it’s new. There isn’t anything like that at Sandy Cay. It’s been
there for years. I’ve been there.”

“Can you tell where it is?” I
asked.

“Special Agent Hilton, have you a
magnifier?” Madison asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hilton opened a desk
drawer, produced a magnifying glass, and handed it to Madison.

“It’s hard to tell anything. If the
image were bigger I might…”

“Where did you get those, Mr.
Everett?” Hilton asked looking at the pictures.

“My client emailed them to me.”

“If you still have the email,
forward it to me. I can enlarge the images on my computer,” Hilton volunteered.

Ten minutes later Hilton had booted
up his computer, I had forwarded Maria Summers’ email, and we were looking at
the two pictures of Sergio Sebastian on Hilton’s seventeen-inch computer
monitor.

“This is much better,” Madison
said. “This building here,” Madison pointed to the pastel blue structure in the
background, “is much clearer. Mr. Hilton, could you bring up a satellite map of
New Providence please?”

In a flash, Special Agent Hilton
had a map of the island on the screen.

“May I?” Madison said as she used
the mouse and moved the map to west. When the western tip of the island was in
view, she zoomed in on the map.

“This building appears new. There
are several newer dockages on the east end of New Providence,” Madison said.
“They aren’t as crowded as the more established ones.”

Madison continued to scroll and
zoom the map, looking at first one then another location and comparing it to
the Summers’ photos. Then she said, “I think this is it.”

Hilton and I crowded around Madison
at the computer screen.

The satellite view showed a
multi-story pastel blue building with a metal roof that could be any one of a
thousand on the island. It could be, but my little voice was telling me this
was
the
building. Most importantly is wasn’t at Sandy Cay but a place
call Palm Harbor on the opposite end of the island from where
Wind Dancer
had been reported.

“The architecture and color are
right,” Madison said.

“Sure are,” Hilton said. “I think I
need to interview Enderby Cox in person and find out why he lied.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to
come with you,” I said.

“We need to go to this Palm Harbor
too,” Hilton said.

“Is that alright with you Madison?”
I asked.

“Perfectly, but we should check to
see if Mr. Cox is on duty.”

“Hilton, what’s your number?” I
asked. “I may need to follow up with you.”

He handed me a business card with
his cell phone number and email address. While Madison set the wheels in
motion, I tried to put Hilton’s number in my phone, but discovered it was still
in airplane mode from the previous evening. I turned on the phone and saw I had
texts from Lia, and a slew of calls from Randi, Stan, and Roscoe. I dialed
Stan’s number and he answered on the first ring.

“Where have you been,” Stan said,
before he even said hello. “You didn’t come home last night.”

“What are you now, my mother?
What’s so important?” I said.

“Where the hell are you? I’ve been
trying to reach you all night.”

“I’m in Nassau,” I replied.

“Nassau! What the hell are you
doing in Nassau?” he said.

“Working a case, what’s so
important?”

“It’s Lia.”

My blood ran cold. “What’s happened
Stan? Is she all right?”

“Get a hold of yourself, Mac.”

“Stan?” I asked.

Hilton and Madison stopped what
they were doing to watch me.

“We think she was abducted. They
snatched her in a parking lot.”

Poor Lia, the kid can’t catch a
break. She’s a big girl.

“Have you called Roscoe? He’s close
to her.”

“I called him when I couldn’t reach
you,” Stan replied. “Do you know what she was doing last night?”

“She went to a concert at one of
the clubs.”

“House of Blues?”

“Could be, she was going to meet
friends there.”

“We talked to a dozen people, some
knew her.”

“What can I do for her Stan?”

“Nothing, we have to wait it out,”
he said. “Can you call Roscoe? He’s been burning up my phone wanting to know
where in the hell you are.”

“Yeah, I’ll call him.”

“Does Lia have any family?” Stan
asked.

“Nope, just Roscoe and me and I’m
obviously not much help.”

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?
Why are you in Nassau?”

“I shut it off for the flight out
last night,” I said. “I just noticed it wasn’t on. I’m working my missing person
case. Look, I’ll hop the next flight back. I’ll call you when I find out when I
land.”

“Whoa, Mac, whoa…there is nothing
you can do here,” Stan said. “Roscoe was worried when he couldn’t reach you.
Call him when you get a chance, but finish up what you have there and then come
back. I’ll keep you updated.”

“What’s the story on the MO? Do you
have any video? How about…”

“Slow down Mac. We are on this.
We’ll find her,” Stan said.

“It’s even money this is connected
to my case and our special assignment,” I replied. “I have a couple things to
run down. I’ll fly back as soon as possible. If something changes, call me,
will ya.”

“You bet. I’ll let Roscoe know
you’re all right,” he said.

“Thanks Stan,” I said and hung up.

“Mind if I ask what that was
about,” Madison asked.

My assistant was abducted last
night,” I said. “I need to make another call.”

“Sure, do you want to use another
office, Mr. Everett?” Hilton asked.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

“Naw, it’s just my army buddy,” I
said.

My conversation with Roscoe was
short and sweet. He was all ready over being pissed at me. He’d called Randi,
assuming I was with her. She told him where I’d gone and successfully predicted
I’d forgotten to turn my phone back on.

“Let me know if there is any news,
Roscoe,” I said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Do what you need to do captain,
but hustle on home, will ya.”

“I give you my word buddy. Tell
Randi I’ll call her later. See you soon.”

I held the phone in both hands as
they dangled between my legs, leaned forward, and stared into space. My mind
was a muddle. I knew being in Orlando wouldn’t have made any difference, but I
felt like all the air was let out of me. While I was doing the horizontal mambo
last night, Lia was fighting for her life.
How screwed up was that?

“Do the authorities know anything?”
Madison asked.

“Not much. They have a vehicle
description,” I said. “There were two guys and maybe a third driving a dark
van.”

“What do you want to do, Mr.
Everett?” Hilton asked.

“I want to clear this up so I can go
home and catch the SOBs who snatched my friend,” I said. “Trouble is they might
be right here.”

My phone rang again and this time
it was Marco.

“Mac, thank God I reached you,” he
was so excited I could barely understand him. “You have to be careful…”

“Slow down Marco. What’s the
matter?”

“I’m so sorry Mac. That Columbian
cop I told you about, he put your name out. I don’t know how he got it, but he
put word out you are investigating Sebastian. That’s all I know. Be careful,
will you please.”

“Thanks for the tip, amigo,” I said
“I’ll watch it. You have anything new?”

“I should have more for you later
today.”

“All right, call me,” I said,

“I heard about Lia. Is there
anything I can do?” He asked.

“Keep your feelers out. I have a
hunch all this is related.”

Madison learned from the police
officer in the area of the Sandy Cay marina that Enderby Cox was a custodian,
not the manager or harbormaster and that he had the day off. She called in a
check on him that turned up his home address and that he was an ex-con with a
long record. Cox lived in an area south of downtown known as Over the Hill.

“It’s an area of significant
crime,” Madison said. “We had best all go to visit Mr. Cox.”

Superintendent Madison Todd was not
one prone to understatement. The Over the Hill neighborhood, just a short walk
from the embassy, the Straw Market, the glamour of downtown Nassau and the
tourist areas, was like a different planet. Roofless gutted concrete buildings,
some boarded up or fenced off, but most left open, shared the rutted muddy
streets with shabby wood frame shacks and burned out cars. Oddly enough, a few
pleasant well-kept homes, with high fences and barred windows populated the
area too. Mixed into the squalor were the lush tropical vegetation-trees,
vines, and giant shrubs that swallowed everything and were everywhere, even in
the streets.

Madison pulled over in front of a
little general store populated by a handful of shirtless idle local men working
on today’s binge drunk.
High crime areas, the same the world over
, I
thought to myself.

“The house is two blocks up on the
right,” Madison said. “Are you armed, Special Agent Hilton?” Madison asked as
she checked her Glock 17.

I felt naked when he said, “Yes,
ma’am. You’ll take the lead?”

“I’ll find Cox and call you in if
he’s there. Follow my lead. If there is trouble, don’t fire unless fired upon.
Agent Hilton I’m depending on you to obey my orders. I don’t suppose I could
ask you two to stay in the car?” she said looking at me. “Neither of you should
be here.”

“You could ask,” I replied, “but
let’s slow down.”

“You have a better plan?” Madison
grumbled.

“Not better, just different, an
unofficial visit might get us more information. These folks don’t care much for
the police,” I said.

“He might have a point,” Hilton
asserted. “The guy already lied to me. I doubt he’d be happy when I show up
with the local police.”

“What do you have in mind, Mac,”
Madison asked.

“What’s this guy’s history?” I
asked.

“The usual, petty property crimes,
burglary, drugs, of course, he completed a prison term last year for his part
in a hijacking.”

“No weapons?” I asked. “He’s
nonviolent?”

“No, no weapons. He’s well behaved
as any of these dodgy buggers can be,” Madison replied. “He’s shirty though.”

“What?”

“He’s not to be trusted and ill
tempered.” she replied.

“Oh,” I replied. “Sounds like my
soul mate, we should get along fine. How’s this, I go up to the house and ask a
few questions.”

“He’ll be suspicious of a
stranger,” Hilton interjected.

“I can be persuasive, besides, I’m
not a cop. If he doesn’t want to talk, I can offer him some cash. Neither of
you can do that. It’ll all be very unofficial.”

Madison looked at Hilton, who
shrugged.

“All we have to go on is that he
lied to me,” Hilton said.

“I don’t fancy an international
incident trying to nick some gonoph,” Madison replied.

“A what?” I demanded. “Speak
English, will ya?”

“A small time thief,” she replied
impatiently. She sat with her hands on the steering wheel looking straight
ahead. Finally she said, “All right, we’ll do it your way, but I don’t fancy a
row. If he turns quarrelsome you light out.”

“Whatever you say,” I replied.

“Walk down from here. We’ll watch
you from a distance,” Madison said as she adjusted herself in the seat. “Remember
this is where our criminal population resides. They don’t like the RBPF
disturbing them at home.”

“I don’t suppose we could call for
more troops,” Hilton said.

“This is unofficial now, remember,”
Madison replied. “I am going to let headquarters know where we are, though.”

Madison snatched a Motorola
portable radio from the door pocket and called in.

“Major Crimes one, to
headquarters,” she said.

“Major Crimes one, transmit,” came
the reply.

“Conducting investigation at Dead
Cat Alley and Palm Way.”

“Message received Major Crimes one.
Standing by.”

“It’s the green wood frame place
with the sagging porch, just there,” Madison said pointing to the house up the
road.

“The one with the door standing
open?”

“Yes. Be careful, Mac.”

“I always am,” I replied.

I started toward the house knowing
the ex con who lived there wasn’t going to be too happy to see me. The approach
was wide open, no cover, and the neighbors were watching me like a hawk. I felt
naked, but it was my idea. The porch creaked as I stepped onto it. A dank musty
odor mixed with the pungent smell of pot rolled over me.

“Mr. Cox. Hello, Mr. Cox,” I called
from the porch.

“I don’t know you. Bugger off,”
came a shout from deep inside.

Mr. Cox, my name’s Everett. I’ve
got some cash here for the answers to a couple questions. No big deal, just a
few questions,” I said as I stepped through the open door.

Cox, dressed in cut off jeans and a
stained wife beater, was a muscular dark skinned man about my size. His
well-lived in face had a look of boozy confusion.

“You a copper?” he asked.

“Not likely,” I said.

“What you want,” he slurred. “We
don’t get no tourists here.”

“All I want is a couple honest
answers,” I replied. The guy was half in the bag. This would be easy or very
hard. “See here, I have cash.” I took a Benjamin out of my pocket and put it on
the table next to his beer.

“American?”

I wasn’t sure if he meant the money
or me.

“Yep,” I plowed ahead.

He was looking at the bill as if it
was the Hope Diamond then he shook his head. “I’m no squealer.”

I took two more hundreds out of my
pocket and put them side by side next to the first bill. Cox licked his lips as
he peered at the money.

“It’s easy money friend. I just
need some answers,” I said as I laid down a fourth hundred.

His hand shot out and snatched the
greenbacks. “All right man, what do you want to know?” he said.

“Tell me about the Americans on the
Nassau Ghost Ship.”

The drunk had been easing into
compliancy, mesmerized by the lure of easy money. The moment he heard Nassau
Ghost Ship he leapt to his feet, seized a wooden chair and flung it at me. The
chair sailed toward my head and I fended it off with my right arm. Cox used my
defensive hesitation to bolt for the back of the house. I was right on his
tail. I wasn’t going to lose him.

I burst through an open doorway to
find Cox, feet firmly planted, waiting for me in the center of the kitchen. I
dodged a wild right hook and caught him on the side of the head with a
haymaker. He staggered back for a moment, and then came at me again. His second
punch had better aim, but I slipped under it and dove for his legs. I drove my
shoulder into his legs and cut him off at the knees. As he was going to the
floor, I drove him back. With his legs knocked out from under him, Cox went
down hard. He flailed, trying to get at me but a quick elbow to the temple
stunned him enough for me to flip him over and pin him.

I had Cox face down on the kitchen
floor, one knee on his neck, the other in the small of his back, a firm
one-handed grip on both of his hands and went to work.

“All right Enderby, why did you lie
about the Nassau Ghost Ship,” I said as I squatted over him, pressing down on
his neck.

“What?” he stuttered, “I didn’t
lie, guv’nor, I swear I didn’t.”

He gasped in pain as I pressed
down. “Stop,” Cox hissed.

I bore down harder and he yelped.
“Yes, yes I was told to say the sloop was at Sandy Cay, we all was told to say
that,” Cox said.

“Was the
Wind Dancer
at
Sandy Cay, Mr. Cox?” I asked. I took the pressure off his neck, but he didn’t
reply. I pressed down on his neck again and watched him squirm as he tried to
move his head to relieve the pressure. I let up on him and he spoke again.

“No, it was never there. I don’t
know nothing, guv’nor.” Cox hissed.

“You didn’t see the people on the
sailboat, did you?”

“No, I don’t see nothing.”

“Who paid you to say the boat was
there?” I demanded.

The prostrate man didn’t say a
word.

“You think I’m having fun here? I
said who paid you.”

I put my thumb in the notch above
his right ear, a spot is a pain compliance point. When you stick in your thumb,
information comes out. Best of all it doesn’t leave a mark.

“He’ll butcher me. I can’t say.
Don’t make me,” Cox pleaded.

“Talk,” I demanded. I shoved my
thumb into the point and the man shrieked in pain. “Talk.”

I heard footsteps. My time was up.
I released the pain point just as Madison appeared in the doorway and said, “I
have to call this in. We’re drawing a crowd.”

“All right, go ahead,” I replied.
“Oh and Superintendent, I think you have probable cause for an arrest. Look around.”

One wall of the kitchen was stacked
high with dozens of high-end flat screen TVs and other electronics.

“It would seem you are correct, Mr.
Everett,” Madison said looking at the boxes of electronics.

Madison pulled out her portable.

“Major Crimes one, headquarters,”
Madison said into the Motorola.

“Major Crimes one, transmit,” came
the cool reply.

“Send prisoner transport and alert
the Inspector on duty. I have a cache of stolen property at Dead Cat Alley and
Palm Way.”

“Message received Major Crimes
one.”

“Message received, headquarters,
standing by.”

Taking on her role as the cop in
charge, Madison got down by the prostrate man’s face.

“What do you know about the ghost
ship?”

“Superintendent, I think he’s
worried about this stuff.” I nodded at the mountain electronics behind us.

“When the transportation lorry
arrives it’s back to Fox Hill for you,” Madison said. “You need to talk now.”

The man didn’t say anything.

“The superintendant asked you a
question,” I said as I pressed my knee down on his neck again. “It’s not polite
to ignore a lady.”

A tall muscular man in a BRPF
uniform, bust through the open door and shouted, “Stand at ease. Release that
man!”

“Easy, Sergeant Hitchcock,” Madison
said. “Everything is under control. Gentlemen, this is my aide, Sergeant
Fredrick Hitchcock.”

“Mum, is everything…”

“Everything is fine Freddie. Mr.
Cox here was just about to tell us everything we wanted to know, weren’t you
Mr. Cox. Freddie, you can wait outside for the transport.”

“Yes, Mum,” Hitchcock sneered.

Something about the guy made my
skin crawl. When he was gone, I said, “Let’s try something else,” I said. “May
I?”

“Certainly,” Madison replied. “You
have the floor, so to speak.”

Physical pain can be useful to
extract information, but I didn’t want to risk Madison’s career even though I
was the one trying to break the man’s neck. Her aide was watching and listening
closely, too closely.

I climbed off Cox, and then rolled
him onto his side. He was breathing hard.

“There, that’s better isn’t it?” I
asked.

The man sat up slowly, and then put
his back against a wall, nodded wearily.

“Thirsty? Could we get some water
for Mr. Cox?” I asked.

Madison drew a glass of water from
the dingy sink. She handed it to me and I held it to Cox’s lips. He drank, as
the water dribbled down his chin. When he’d had enough, he nodded.

“Better?” I asked.

He nodded again and said, “Yeah.”

“There are a couple things we need
to know. We believe you have the answers or we wouldn’t be here. You
understand?”

He nodded again. The man was a
fool, but he had the answers I wanted. I could see it in those watery brown
eyes.

“I’m going to ask you some
questions and you are going to answer truthfully. I’ll know if you lie and then
I’ll face plant you again. Get it?”

I could see the wheels turning in
his head.

“Don’t force me to do that. If that
doesn’t work, there are worse things I can do.”

I let the idea hang in the air.

“You see, we know smuggling is just
business. We can all put up with that, right?”

Cox nodded. He was regaining his
senses a bit.

“But sometimes the items trafficked
become a problem, maybe its guns or people and if the United States Government
gets involved things get
very
ugly. Do you understand?”

He nodded wearily.

“Who paid you to lie about the
sailboat? Is it the same group that has the cigarette boat with the dragon
design on it?” I asked.

Hilton and Madison stared holes
through me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about,” Cox croaked.

“Who is it,” I demanded gently. “Is
he the one who paid you?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“All right, have it your way. I
tried to help you.”

I looked at Hilton and winked.
“It’s no use. Agent Hilton you win, you better take him,” I said.

Hilton stared at me with empty
eyes. I’d surprised him. We should have worked this out in advance, but this
was all on the fly.

“This man can have you signed in at
the Guantanamo Bay Detention Camp before dark,” I said to Cox. “You’ve been to
the local prison…what’s it called?”

“Fox Hill,” Madison filled in for
me.

“Yeah, Fox Hill. Have you been to
Cuba, Cox? They call it Camp X-Ray, you know-where they take all the other
terrorists.”

“No, no,” Cox yelled. “I’m no
terrorist.”

“You’ve been to Fox Hill, what,
twelve times,” Madison added. “Maybe we do ourselves a favor and turn you over
to the Americans. They seem to want you.”

Hilton overcame his surprise and
added. “It’s really hot there. Know why it’s so hot at Gitmo? They say it’s
extra hot because it so damn close to hell.”

“Abducting women, Enderby,” I said
softly, “killing innocent people, that’s worse than the thieving you’ve done,
worse than the drugs you’ve sold. We know how to deal with you, how to deal
with terrorists. Talk!” I shouted.