The Bergamese Sect (39 page)

Lewis heard a snap then a rustle of paper. There was a moment’s silence.

‘
Read it out,’ the girl said.

‘
Okay. It says look in the ceiling space above the bathroom light.’

Lewis heard the deep thuds and loud scrapings of the occupants now fishing around in the ceiling tiles above him. There were several bangs and words of direction among the group.

‘
Okay, I have it,’ said the Englishman. ‘It’s another note.’

‘
Read it.’

‘
Matt, go to the Hemisphere National Bank at 176 NE 1st Street and request access to safety deposit box number 346. The cashier will only require a verbal password from you. That password is the one you use for your PayPal account. You will find further instructions in the deposit box. You will go there alone. No one else is to leave the hotel room while you are gone. You will not take any form of communication device with you. If anyone attempts to follow you or contact you in any way while you are gone, the deal is off and the truth will be buried with me.’

‘
Shit!’ It was the girl swearing. ‘More run around. I’m getting tired of this.’

‘
Don’t be surprised,’ another voice said. ‘This man has every right to be paranoid.’

The girl didn’t respond to the assurance. ‘The bank will open at nine,’ she said. ‘Matt, you’ll have to be there first thing. We should get some sleep.’

Lewis listened for a while longer but there was little more discussion. Within an hour, a silence fell over the adjacent room, disturbed only by the faint murmur of people sleeping.

Eventually, Lewis ripped the earphones from his head and sat in the semi-darkness listening to the incessant purr of the air conditioning vent, the hollow knocks and voices from the rooms above. ‘Shit,’ he said quietly.

Like a weight around his neck, he felt an uncommon trepidation surrounding him. His task was becoming more difficult, particularly without the backup of a reliable partner. How could he protect as well as remain concealed?

The instructions he’d heard coming through the wall worried him. If the group moved again, he might lag too far behind, arrive too late to save the target, and perhaps Sebastian too. He needed to know what was in that deposit box before the target. But it was the middle of the night and he was ill equipped to break into a bank vault undetected.

Things would have been easier before Walsh’s revelation. Get hold of the city sheriff, convince him he needed access on a matter of national security, and within minutes, the manager would be at the door with a bunch of keys and a sleepy daze. He’d had that kind of authority once. When the flash of an ID card and a superior stare could open even the pearly gates. When any number of security chiefs, even the DCI himself, were on the end of a phone line if he needed them.

But the wallet of IDs on the bed was now no more than a selection of thin covers, not a passport to unlimited clearance from Honolulu to St Croix. No, whatever he needed to do, it would have to wait till morning.

And that plan would mean leaving the target unprotected. What if the order came to kill him while Lewis was away? But there was a moment open to him, a window of opportunity barely ajar. As the target travelled to the bank, the others would remain at the hotel, fearful of losing the renegade at the last moment. The target would be safe then, protected by his isolation, by his exposure. Lewis would have to be five minutes ahead of him.

He glanced over at the bed. The wallet was peeping out from under his jacket. It was stuffed full of fake IDs. He’d have to wing it somehow, he thought.

―
§ ―

In the sushi bar that butted up onto the hotel lobby, Lewis took a seat and ordered a plate of fish delicacies. It was 1am. The bar was open late, obviously doing good business. Several couples were enjoying drinks; three men were talking quietly together.

But he was wary. He tried to conceal himself from the others behind the central column of the circular bar. He’d seen no trace of his pursuers since arriving in Miami, but his description, confirmed by the CIA men in Calgary, would now be on the grapevine. Sewell’s men, perhaps the girl herself, may be able to recognise him if he wasn’t careful. It was crucial that the girl in particular didn’t realise they were being watched. Her superiors would tell her to eliminate the target immediately, or she might even take that decision herself.

As he watched across the room, a buzzer started humming in his trousers. It wasn’t loud, but he reached down quickly to silence the device. Someone had left room 122, tripping the contact alarm he’d placed on the door on his way down.

It was the girl. She showed up in the bar a few minutes later and went straight over to the three men. They were her protectors. Lewis chastised himself for not being more aware of the possibility. He got up, walked around the counter, fumbling in his pocket for change, and stopped at a cigarette machine only yards from where the girl and her accomplices were sitting. He had his back turned to them, but his hearing was precisely tuned to their conversation. As they spoke, he pretended to struggle with the machine.

‘
I don’t want to be gone long,’ the girl was saying.

‘
Sure. Just give us an update.’

‘
Give me your phone. I’ll tell Sewell myself.’

Lewis heard a rustle and the barely audible bleeps as a number was dialled.

‘
Sewell?’ came the girl’s voice. ‘We’re in Miami. We don’t have any more information yet. We’ll know more tomorrow.’ There was a pause as the girl listened to the voice at the other end of the line. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Not yet. Okay. Do it straight away? You don’t want me to wait for you? Okay. Look, it’s getting difficult to contact you. They may get suspicious. I’ll make contact when the job is done, okay? Sure.’

Lewis heard another beep as the phone was switched off.

‘
Are we still being followed?’ she asked the men.

‘
I don’t think so,’ one of them replied. ‘Those agents got away from us in the mountains. But Sewell’s convinced they’ve gone to ground. I don’t think we’ll be seeing much more of them. But still, watch your back. Our orders are to kill your boy if anyone shows up looking for him.’

Lewis allowed himself a smile.

‘
Okay. I’ve got to get back upstairs before I’m missed.’

‘
Wait. There’s still the question of your technical friend.’

‘
I may still need him.’

‘
Sewell wants him removed. There will be no loose ends.’

‘
Then wait till we find the renegade. Do it then.’

‘
Give me one good reason to wait?’

‘
I can’t do this alone. What if there are more emails to decipher? More hoops to jump through?’

‘
My orders are to kill him.’

‘
If you do, I’m walking away.’

‘
What do you mean?’

‘
I’ll walk. Leave the renegade for you to deal with. Would you like to explain that to Sewell? To Jordan?’

Another pause.

‘
You wouldn’t do that. It means too much to you.’

‘
Watch me.’

Lewis leant over toward the bar and asked the barman for change. The man handed him some coins and Lewis busied himself slotting them into the machine, taking his time.

‘
Okay,’ the man said. ‘Keep him. If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you had a thing for that interloper.’ The other men chuckled at the insinuation.

‘
Please,’ the girl said disdainfully.

A packet of cigarettes fell into the tray of the machine and Lewis picked them up. He turned slightly and caught a glimpse of the girl standing.

‘
The target is heading for a bank first thing in the morning, to get more instructions. Don’t follow him. Stay close to me.’

‘
Sure, honey,’ the man replied, ‘I’d love to.’

The others laughed but the girl didn’t respond. She turned and headed back toward the hotel lobby.

As Lewis returned to eat his sushi, right behind the girl, he heard her whisper under her breath.

‘
Assholes,’ she said.

―
§ ―

Matt stared at the bank teller as she fingered a roll of banknotes. ‘I’d like access to my safety deposit box, please,’ he said.

The middle-aged woman had fierce features. Her greying hair was bound tightly on the nape of her neck. She punched a few keys on her computer. ‘What number, sir?’ she asked.

‘
346.’

The woman glanced at Matt briefly, blinking rapidly. She typed the number in and stared at the screen for a few moments.

‘
Are you the account holder?’ she asked.

‘
No,’ Matt answered.

One of the woman’s eyebrows shot up suspiciously. ‘Okay. I’ll need the password before I can give you the key.’ The woman looked at Matt expectantly, as if willing him to fail the test.

‘
Pandora.’

There was no delight on the woman’s face. ‘Thank you. If you’ll take a seat.’

Matt sat and surveyed the interior of the bank. It was an attractive green, finished with lots of chrome and pale wood. Behind the expanse of hardened glass, the staff juggled bits of paper and chatted.

Matt felt apprehensive. His chest was tight and his stomach churned as if he were on a roller coaster. A very real fear of what lay ahead had been growing in him for days, perhaps weeks. He’d put it to the back of his mind, like he did with all his most intense emotions. Filed away with the memories of his father’s disapproval when he’d flunked college, the accident that had killed his best friend, and that awful September day that had snuffed out his parents. But this new trepidation was fighting its way to the surface. It made a surge of paranoia flow through his veins.

After several minutes, a security door at the far end of the bank opened and a young girl with long legs and a black business suit stepped out. A tall man, also dressed in black, followed her. He nodded to the girl and walked the length of the bank, his head turned away, inspecting the row of cashiers. The man disappeared out the door into the blazing sunshine.

The woman who’d led the customer out came over to Matt.

‘
Sir, if you’ll follow me,’ she said and led him back through the security door, down a flight of steps and into a large well-lit room. At one end stood a huge metal door with a keypad lock. The woman approached and punched some numbers in, turning her back to shield her movements.

The door swung outwards and the woman invited him through. Inside, the two sidewalls of the vault were stacked high with safety deposit boxes of various sizes. The whole room was a dazzle of bright aluminium. Several tables stood in the centre.

The woman handed him a key then said, ‘when you’re done just press this button here.’ She pointed to a large red button next to the entrance door. With a glimmer of a smile, she left him alone, closing the heavy door behind her. The electronic lock clicked into place.

He quickly found the box he was looking for. It was about head height, about halfway along the left wall. The key turned easily in the lock. Grabbing the handle on the front, he pulled the box out of its housing.

He reached inside the aluminium box, moved his hand around. It was empty.

Pulling the box further out, he pushed the handle down, angling it toward the floor. A thin sheet of paper, neatly folded in two, slid to the front. With a sigh of relief, Matt grabbed it, pushed the box back into the wall, and unfolded the note.

My apologies for dragging you into this. It was the only way. Men will kill for what I know and I need to be sure I confess to someone who will not silence me. I know I can trust you because I know your history better than you know it yourself.

I want you to understand that this is a truth that needs to be told. I hope the people you are with have convinced you of that. Don’t walk away now, not after coming this far.

I should warn you that the people you are with might not be what they seem. Trust no one. Do not release yourself from their protection, but be prepared for them to change their attitude toward you quickly, and for the worse.

You have not yet finished your journey. Take a flight to Lima, Peru, then to Cusco. Make your way to the ruins of Cotacoca in the Vilcabamba, about 60 miles west of the city. You will find me in a shack overlooking the site from the north.

Do not take guides to show you the way. Bring your ‘friends’ with you, but tell them as little as possible about your destination. I hope, when you arrive, that at least one of them turns out to be genuine. Otherwise, it’s just you and I.

That was it. There was no revelation; no dossier of secret government papers that revealed a staggering conspiracy. No incriminating evidence. Not even an explanation.

Matt read the words again. And again. An intense feeling of disappointment flooded through him. This mystery man was playing with him, just as Clara did, assuming his compliance without question. Prostituting him.

His emotions ebbed into apprehension again. This man, who’d turned his life upside-down, who’d dragged him into this crazy game, had given him a stark warning. Matt had been right about Henric; he was working against them, using Clara’s organisation to hunt down the truth and destroy it.

One of Matt’s accomplices was a traitor. The other was detached and psychotic. Matt suddenly felt very alone.

―
§ ―

Jeff Lewis paused on the sidewalk outside the Hemisphere National Bank. He glanced up at the blue sky and blew a sigh of relief. The sun was now beaming down over the tall buildings onto the blacktop, bright and warm. Reaching into his jacket, he brought out his shades, placing them coolly across his unshaven face.

He’d done it. He’d made it to the bank only minutes before the target, banging on the glass for them to open, watching over his shoulder in case the Englishman appeared.