Waves of Murder (28 page)

Jon sat and pretended to think deeply for a few minutes, stood and said, “$190,000, let’s split the difference, they’re top quality gems, especially the necklace.” The man went back to his colleagues but returned with a $185,000 offer, “Will that be dollars, cash?”

“Yes, of course,” the man replied. The three other dealers came out, looked at Jon, nodded and smiled. They spoke to the shop’s manager in the foreign tongue. “They will return soon,” the younger man said. After receiving the money, he thanked the dealers and left the shop. He still had Liz Fenner’s diamonds but he would hang on to them as some sort of nest egg!

Tunis was a very vibrant city, more tourists than he had seen anywhere else, no wonder the taxis were all new, latest models, including Mercedes and BMW’s. Fuels were about half the price of Europe but the taxi drivers were all descendants of Ali Baba’s friends and preyed on tourists like vultures, charging exhorbitant prices to go just short distamces. He thought he would extend his stay at the apartment for at least another week, after all he could well afford it, if not better, but it was comfortable, cellular and very private.

Yonkers & New Rochelle

T
he town was still smarting over the disappearance of Liz Fenner. Ben Schwartz, the car cleaner, walked into the Sherrif’s office and handed in the key to Liz Fenner’s house. The junior officer called Mel Novak to the front desk, “Will you be able to attend the coroner’s inquest? as there is no body he just wants to establish, by witnesses, who exactly Liz Fenner was.”

“Yes, sure,” said Ben. Being a law student, this would be of the utmost interest to him.

“Mrs Fenner’s family, what there is of it, will be there, okay?” Mel said, “oh, and by the way, you’re the only one now that knows the gate entry code, what is it please?”

“6969,” Ben replied, not knowing why Mel smiled.

“Thanks Mr Schwartz, we’ll be in touch.” As he walked out Mel and the junior officer laughed loudly, “6969,” they almost shouted, “Hey, shut up,” Mel said, “ the poor lady is dead.”

The Inquest

L
iz Fenner’s sister Paula was present, but her only interest was the will that Liz may have left. She had flown in from Los Angeles after being informed by the NYPD which had taken a lot of trouble placing national newspaper ads. She had contacted Capt Colletti and learned about the inquest. She was introduced to Mel Novak by the coroner’s assistant, “Well,” she said, “have you got anywhere in finding her murderer?”

“No,” Mel replied, “but he is being sought all over Europe, TV images, newspaper pictures etc., he was recently shot by the Sicilian mafia in Palermo, but escaped from the hospital. No one knows where he is now.”

“I see,” she said, “Who is Elizabeth’s attorney?” she asked.

“Rackman Davis of Manhattan,” Mel replied, “There will be a representative at the inquest. But I must tell you that there will be a statutory waiting period of two years before her will can be implemented, because there wasn’t a body.”

“WHAT?” she shouted, “that’s ridiculous.”

“It’s the law,” Mel answered.

“I WANT THE ADDRESS OF THIS RACKMAN DAVIS,” she shouted.

“I’m a policeman, lady, I’m not allowed to give out such information,” he lied, as he didn’t like the woman or her attitude.

“I’M GOING TO SEE YOUR SUPERIOR AT NYPD,” she shouted again

“That’s your privilege,” Mel said and turned away from her and left the building. He could have helped her a lot more as his wife, Mary-Lou, ran the local office of Rackman Davis.

Over dinner at home, he told Mary-Lou about Liz Fenner’s sister, “It’ll probably come home to roost at my office,” she said, “your superior in New York City will tell her the same,” she added.

“And then she’ll probably go to see the Governor at State Capital,” he laughed, “ she’s only interested in getting her manicured hands on Liz’s fortune,” he said.

The proceedings were short-lived and only lasted about 30 minutes, Liz’s sister was present with an attorney who tried to get some sort of injunction to have the will reading brought forward, but the coroner ruled against it and quoted the law.

“I WANT TO LODGE AN APPEAL,” she stood up and shouted. Her attorney urged her to sit down and told her that an appeal could cost her up to $100,000, win or lose. She went quiet and started to cry silently. This lady was desperate, but nobody knew why. But the truth was that she was the lover of Liz’s husband before he married her, and she was convinced that the legacy should be hers. She needed it badly, when she heard that Liz was missing, believed dead, she inwardly rejoiced and had dollar signs in her minds eye. Her younger lover had left her, taking half the assets of their boutique’s business and gone off with a younger woman ..... and she was heading for bankruptcy.

Tunis

S
atan’s protegee felt the black mist descending as he sat watching passengers from a cruise ship walking towards the main town. He noticed one in particular, tall, elegant and very well dressed, he would follow this woman and get to know her if he could. She had a nice way of walking, perhaps she was an ex-model. She did some window shopping and waved off shop keepers who invited her into their shops. She eventually went into a small square and sat at a table in the corner of a coffee shop. A waitress asked her what her choice was, she ordered. Jon sat at a table about 10 metres away and pretended to just watch passers-by, he did, however, notice her looking his way and he gave her a cheeky smile and she smiled back. After about ten minutes he stood and walked over to her table and introduced himself, “Hello, I’m Keiron Pearce,” he said.

“Hello, I’m Agneta Garner, from Sweden, and you’re from Ireland, right?” she said.

“That’s right, from Dublin, how could you tell?” They both laughed, her smile lit up the sombre sun-less corner they were in. “Why don’t we go over to another table that’s in the sun?” he suggested.

“I’m afraid I can’t at the moment, this is my day of shade as I call it, I’ve had too much sun in the last few days, best to be careful,” she explained.

“Oh, I see, er yes, the rays in this part of the world are very powerful,” he answered as he sat down, “how long is your ship in Tunis for?”

“Three days,” she replied, “I’m hoping to buy some leather goods, I’ve heard it’s very good here and not too expensive. In Sweden it’s outrageously costly, and I want to possibly set up a source of supply for my shops in Stockholm and Malmo,” she said.

“Well then, perhaps I can help you carry your bags?” he laughed.

“Yes,” she said, “that would be nice, and helpful!”

“And you’ll need me to deal with taxi drivers, they’re outrageously expensive too, to tourists,” he added.

“Are you a gigolo?” Agneta asked with a saucy giggle.

“Jesus, bless you!” he said, wanting to sound very Irish, “No! I’m a car dealer from London taking a long holiday in southern Europe and north Africa,” he said, “do I appear to be a gigolo?” he laughed.

“Yes, you’re tall, smart and very handsome. I will be happy for you to accompany me and help me with my shopping,” she smiled a ‘perfect teeth’ smile.

Jon paid the bill and they walked off to where the main shopping area was. Leather shops were abundant, and shopkeepers were busy trying to get them inside their emporiums, ‘yes beautiful lady, we have the best leather garments in Tunis’ seemed to be the chat up line, but Jon smiled and said ‘not today, thank you’ while Agneta felt the quality of the goods hanging outside.

“The soft quality is very good,” she said, “and about a third of the price of Sweden. I will buy about 5 or 6 jackets and trousers to take home, they are very trendy now and make good profits. But to make big money I need a constant supply,” she said, “I hope to get a big stock for the winter.” She found a shop and manufacturer, she presented her card and asked if he spoke English.

“Yes, of course, we have to for the tourists, also French and German,” he said.

“Good, I want some samples of your make to take back to Sweden, but I want very good prices,” she almost demanded. A deal was struck, and Agneta now had her source of supply at agreed prices, she would confirm the agreement by email as soon as she got back home. “We will now go back to the ship and I will buy you lunch,” she said.

“No,” Jon said, “I won’t be allowed to board the boat.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, “is that because you might stow away?”

“Possibly, I don’t know,” he admitted, “let’s find a restaurant and have a lunch of local food,” he said. A very nice looking restaurant was in the square where they first met. Agneta was a lucky lady, no jewellery, her attraction was her beauty and personality plus a lot of sexuality.

After their lunch they took a slow walk back to the ship, when they reached the gangway with all the packages, Agneta showed her wristband and keycard, “Can my friend come aboard?” she asked.

“No, I’m sorry, it’s company policy about non-cruisers boarding the ship,” the huge security guard said.

“Don’t worry,” Jon said, “perhaps we can meet later for dinner, Tunis is full of good eateries,” he added.

“Yes, that’ll be nice, shall we say, here at 7 o’clock?”

“Yes, that’ll be terrific.” Jon moved quickly, he booked out of his apartment, bought a suitcase and booked in to the 5* Tunisian Palace Hotel. His plan was to take her there for dinner, and then seduce her.

Seven o’clock soon came round, Jon had booked a double luxury room overlooking some beautiful gardens, the scent of the plants and flowers would add to the seduction scene. When she walked down the gangway Jon’s chest started to pump, she looked fabulous in a yellow and black knee-length dress with a discreet split up the right thigh. She was also wearing a beautiful pearl and diamond necklace, if real, about $50,000 worth, plus diamond rings with fair-sized stones, and a diamond encrusted watch. Oh dear, he thought, as the black mist started to descend. “Hey,” she said (Hello in Swedish) as she looked at him in his YSL jacket and slacks, “you look very handsome,” she said, and kissed him on both cheeks but being careful not to spoil her lipgloss!

He hailed a taxi that was waiting at the rank, “The Tunisian Palace Hotel,” he said to the driver.

“Yes sir-r-r,” the cabbie replied.

“Is that where you are staying?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, “but I only moved in today. Before I had a self-catering apartment, but I realised I prefer the finer things in life, with some good service.” Good lord, he thought, I’m telling the truth for once! “I’ve heard the restaurant is excellent,” he added.

They arrived at the venue and walked in through the auto doors into the Arab-influenced foyer. It was busy as Jon guided Agneta to the Carthagian bar. They were greeted by a young girl in belly dancer’s costume and was shown to a table. She then produced an enormous wine list, bowed and walked away with a wiggle. “Shall we celebrate your successful business day with some champagne?” Jon suggested.

“Yes please,” Agneta said, “I love it!”

Jon ordered a bottle of Chrystal ‘99, he didn’t know, but the price said that it was a good vintage! “Cheers, and good trading with your leather boutiques,” Jon said as he raised his glass and chinked Agneta’s glass.

“Thank you,” she said, and blew him a kiss, “why does your accent change sometimes?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s because I’ve spent so much time in London talking to cockney car dealers,” he felt himself blushing, “my sister, in Dublin says the same!” he lied.

“What’s cockney?”

Jon laughed, “It’s the accent of London, especially among car dealers, they have their own language. For instance, a car is a ‘jam jar’,” he explained.

She laughed, “Does that mean that my Mercedes is a German jam jar?”

“Yes!” said Jon, and they both laughed loudly. She is wonderful, Jon was thinking, absolutely fabulous, I could settle down with her, but that was a crazy thought. “Do you need to do any more shopping?” he asked.

“Yes, shoes!” she replied, “but you won’t want to be with me when I go shopping for them,” she said.

“Oh, I don’t mind, it’ll be nice just being with you,” he said, very smoothly.

She reached across the table and held his hand and didn’t let go, then she said something that really rocked his world, “As you’re not allowed on the ship, we can go up to your room.”

Jon felt sand-blasted, amazed, shocked and happy at the same time but played it cool and gathered his breath. He took time to fill her glass again, he hoped it wasn’t the champagne talking, but she’d only had one glass. She meant what she said, he thought.

Their dinner was exotic and a little spicy, but delicious, the service couldn’t be better. In the distance they could hear music, Jon hadn’t looked around the hotel, but he guessed there was a nightclub near by. They left the restaurant having had a marvellous dinner, a bottle of exquisite champagne and two balloons of Napoleon brandy. They walked towards the melodic sound, a doorman dressed in Aladdin garb opened the very ornate double doors for them, “Good evening,” he said, as they entered a dimly lit, but not too dark, venue. It was quite busy with Aladdins and belly dancers serving drinks to lots of customers. The music was supplied by a group of five, playing modern western songs. They found a table for two and ordered two cocktails. Sipping the drinks, Agneta gazed into Jon’s eyes with a smouldering look, and Jon ogled her jewellery first, and then looked into her eyes. The magical sex spell was set. They danced closely to slow songs for about an hour and a half, at midnight they decided to go up to Jon’s room on the first floor. He opened the door and ushered Agneta inside, almost immediately she put her arms around his neck and found his mouth with hers. The kiss lingered for quite a while as they began to undress each other, zips, buttons and buckles were quickly dealt with until they were both naked. They fell on to the bed with arms and legs entwining, moaning in ecstasy.