Treasured Lies (24 page)

‘I hear ya, buddy. I hear ya.'

Archer stepped onto the stairs leading up to the helipad and looked up at the helicopter's still-spinning rotors. Wind whipped his hair across his face and as Archer brushed it aside he made a mental note to get a haircut, he was well overdue. Just as the rotors began to slow down, Archer spied two sets of black leather boots with thick soles emerge from the helicopter.

Archer stepped back from the handrail, deciding to stay where he was and let the police come down to him instead.

He watched them descend the stairs with a sense of déjà vu. It was hard to believe he'd experienced nearly the exact same scenario just an hour or so earlier. So much had happened since then. Archer's gaze flicked from one officer to the next. While one was tall and gangly, the other was stout and sported a barrel-like stomach. Both were dressed in police uniform and both surveyed the scene around Archer with darting accusatory eyes.

The barrel-shaped officer was showing signs of exertion and Archer was already wondering how he would get back up the stairs, especially with a prisoner in tow. The officer extended his hand. ‘Mr Mahoney, I assume.' His Greek accent was strong but decipherable.

‘Correct. Please call me Archer, and this is Jimmy.' Something about his first impression of the officers made Archer refrain from revealing Jimmy's surname. Maybe it was the way they flanked him, closing in on his personal space, but it suddenly seemed important to give them as little information as possible.

There was no doubt the police could see the taped up prisoner, yet neither of them moved in his direction. Archer stepped back and opened his palm, guiding the men to him.

‘Here's one of the attackers.'

The tall one cocked his head at Archer. ‘Where's the other man?'

The hairs on Archer's neck bristled and the still morning air wasn't to blame. The way he'd said ‘man' made it obvious he knew there were two. If he'd said men, or if he'd actually questioned how many, it would be different. But he knew there was only one other man. Archer looked squarely into his eyes and when the officer's glare shifted to his partner, Archer spoke. ‘The other guy attacked me and we went overboard. He didn't make it.'

‘Where is he?'

Archer shrugged. ‘Out there somewhere. My guess is he drowned.'

The two officers shot rapid fire words at each other in another language. Presumably Greek. The gangly one pulled a phone from his pocket, punched in a number and moved to the far end of the deck to speak into his phone privately. The other officer seemed content to wait until he was finished.

The officer ended his call and slipped the phone into his pocket as he walked back to them. ‘The divers are on their way. Is there somewhere we can talk?' he said.

‘Yes. Here.' Archer had no intention of inviting them any further into
Evangeline
.

‘Right. How about you tell us what happened?'

Archer guided the two officers to sit and then he and Jimmy did the same. He began telling details of the day's events, but no sooner had he started when the two officers hit them with their own set of intense questions that they contrasted with idle note taking.

When Archer had mentioned Ignatius as the likely perpetrator, they wrote the name down. But the way they did it, in a doodle-like manner rather than as if it were an important name in a serious crime, gave him the feeling they had no intention of acting upon it. In fact, the whole casual-like discussion seemed fake. It may have been the look that crossed between them, or it may have been the fact that they didn't clarify how Archer knew it was Iggy. Either way, he was certain, reporting this to the police was a complete waste of time.

As the questions progressed, they centred more on why the attackers were targeting
Evangeline
rather than extracting details of the actual attack. They were fishing for information, and with every passing question Archer clammed up that little bit more. Jimmy hadn't said one word since he'd sat down, but one look at him was enough for Archer to know he had exactly the same vibes about this pair. His jaw was clamped shut and Archer was certain the policemen would have to prise it open to get any answers from him.

A commotion erupted from a lower deck at the back of the boat and the policemen jumped up from their seats, strode to the railing and looked down.

Archer cleared his throat to attract Jimmy's attention. ‘Did you notice they didn't ask any questions about Iggy?'

‘Sure did.' He hissed through his clenched jaw. ‘What's it mean?'

‘It means they know exactly who he is, but my guess is they have no plans of doing one friggin' thing about it.'

Jimmy huffed. ‘Just say the word and I'll rip this guy's arm off and beat the two of them over the head with it.' Archer glanced at the prisoner. He was still tied up with silver tape, the police were here to take him away, yet he looked as comfortable as if he'd stepped aboard for a drink or two. He wasn't worried enough for a man in his situation.

Before Archer could seriously consider Jimmy's farcical offer, he gave him a curt nod, then strode towards the railing. Below them, nestled against the dive deck, was a police-issued rubber craft. Archer counted four men, all clad in black wetsuits, all in various stages of preparation to dive overboard. Archer used the distraction to gather his thoughts. The fact that there were six officers here was as disturbing as if they hadn't turned up at all. If they truly intended to find the drowned intruder, wouldn't there be a dozen men and a couple of choppers in the air? Right from the moment the police set foot on the boat, Archer had felt like someone was still pulling all the strings. Now even more so.

Archer watched as one by one the police divers launched into the water, and after a brief safety check they each vanished below the surface. As he pondered how long it would take for the body to be found, his mind flashed to the crazy priest. His body had never resurfaced. Maybe this one was destined for the same fate, and maybe the ocean current won't be entirely to blame.

The officer with the barrel belly spun on his heel and took in Archer with his dark accusatory eyes. ‘May we search your boat?'

Archer's mind snapped to attention. ‘No.' He said it with resounding authority.

The officer cocked his head. ‘Are you hiding something?'

‘This is my home and without a search warrant, there's no need to go beyond this upper deck.'

The two officers glanced at each other and the tall one's Adam's apple bobbed up and down. ‘Why do you think you've been attacked again?' he said.

‘I have no idea. People see a yacht like this and assume we have bundles of money lying around.'

‘Do you?'

Archer pushed back on the railing. ‘I told you who our attacker was, Ignatius Montpellier. Ask him what this's all about.'

‘We will. Is there anyone else aboard?' The officer turned his attention to the prisoner.

‘I'm sure you know the answer to that.' With impeccable timing, Rosalina stepped onto the upper deck. Archer bit down on his teeth, trying to contain his frustration. He let out a calming breath. ‘Officer—' It occurred to Archer that neither man had properly introduced themselves. ‘May I see your badges please?'

The barrel belly one smiled in a way that had Archer believing he was itching for someone to ask him that. He reached inside his jacket and produced a leather wallet that he flicked towards Archer. Archer inhaled the smell of fresh leather as he read and memorised the name.

‘Officer Nikolaos, this is Rosalina. She resuscitated me after the other guy tried to drown me.'

Nikolaos nodded in her direction. ‘Did you see the other attacker?'

She glanced at Archer, obviously seeking his advice.

‘They're looking for his body now,' Archer said.

Rosalina blinked a few times. ‘Yes, I saw him. But only briefly. He … um … I think he drowned.'

‘I was just lucky Rosalina found me when she did. Or you'd be looking for two bodies.'

A fresh round of commotion erupted from the dive deck. All five of them moved to the railing to look below. Two divers had popped above the water and then, as they watched, a body floated to the surface. Rosalina gasped and turned around. The face on the body was ghostly pale, dark blue stains circled his eyes and mouth. From this distance he looked much smaller than Archer remembered him. Nothing like the raging bull that had tackled him overboard. After a series of squeaking noises, the police divers launched the body over the side of the rubber boat and it flopped into the bottom of the craft like the soggy corpse it was. They quickly had it covered in a black plastic sheet.

Archer turned to Nikolaos. ‘Are you going to question this guy?' Rather than turn to the prisoner, Archer trained his eyes on Nikolaos. As the officer paused with obvious indecision, Archer remembered his earlier promise to Rosalina to get out of Greece soon. It was definitely time to do that. He wanted the police off his yacht and if it meant helping them do so, he would.

‘Come on, Jimmy, let's get this guy untied so they can take him away for questioning.'

Jimmy didn't hesitate to follow Archer's lead. ‘Rosa, you can head back downstairs. You don't need to see this.'

‘Okay.' Her face relaxed, showing relief at his directive.

He watched her leave before he and Jimmy began tearing off strips of tape that attached the prisoner to the pole.

‘Leave the tape on his mouth. And hands,' Archer said and a small smile curled at the corner of Jimmy's lips in response.

Strangely, the police held back and just watched, cementing Archer's belief that these guys weren't police at all. Once he was released, Jimmy wrapped his enormous hand around the thug's bicep and shoved him towards the officers.

Nikolaos reached for the prisoner and without any warning he yanked the tape off his mouth. ‘What's your name?'

After a brief pause in which nobody spoke, including the thug, the officer directed the prisoner towards the stairs. The lanky policeman climbed the stairs first, followed by the thug.

‘So I guess you'll be in touch,' Archer called out as Nikolaos stepped onto the first rung.

‘Yes. We'll contact you soon.'

‘Like hell you will,' Jimmy mumbled, clearly reading Archer's mind.

In a matter of minutes, the helicopter roared to life and with a cyclonic gust of wind it lifted off and Archer tracked its departure until it was barely a blip in the distance.

Jimmy turned to Archer. ‘Time to get out of here, boss.'

‘Agreed.'

Chapter 27

The transition from dusk to dark was swift, as if a giant blanket had been tossed over the world. One minute Nox was steering the little boat in the same direction as the ever-decreasing smoke threads, the next minute all he could see were thousands of stars sprinkling the blackness. Other than the twinkling stars above, there were no lights anywhere, and the moon failed to show itself too. Once again Nox found himself in an alien world. He began to wonder if the working lighthouse he'd seen was an illusion. Maybe he was so desperate to see civilisation that he'd concocted the whole flashing light image.

Nox was driving into and surrounded by complete blackness. He eased back on the throttle, aware that he could very easily crash into something. The engine noise was the only constant and filled the void around him like an angry drone. But very soon, as much as he didn't want to do it, he was forced to turn off the engine altogether. Just the thought of ending up in the water again was enough to convince him it was too dangerous to carry on.

The silence that engulfed him was tremendous. Nothing but small waves tickling the side of the boat along with his own ragged breathing. With his bruised ribs and smoke-infused lungs, it was a wonder he could breathe at all. There was some small comfort. At least the boat offered a modicum of security.

For a long time he just stared into the black beyond. Sheer exhaustion, and the sound of the lapping waves, soon began to weigh in on him. He was powerless to fight it and caught his head nodding onto his chest several times before he admitted defeat. Nox crawled between the two seats, wriggled around to get comfortable and tried not to think about the endless possibilities of what could happen. But he had done everything he could possibly do and once again he was in the hands of fate. Somehow he was comfortable with that thought. In light of everything that had happened, the fact that he was still alive was nothing short of a miracle. He was certain he wasn't going to die. Not yet anyway.

***

Nox blinked against the glare and it took all his might to raise his arm to shield his eyes. It was some time before he realised it was the sun. He'd slept right through the night, or maybe it was two or possibly more. A sharp scraping noise startled him. It reminded him of the one and only time he'd had his teeth checked. The sadistic dentist had actually smiled at Nox's fear over the contraption grinding his teeth. The sound and the pain was one of the worst experiences of his life, and even though it had been about thirty years ago, the memory guaranteed he never went to a dentist again.

The scraping noise was louder this time and with it the boat tilted over slightly. Nox shot up and gasped as every muscle in his body strained against the movement. His eyes blurred with the pain and he blinked back tears. The boat tilted again, forcing Nox to hang on. The sea spray on his face was cold and refreshing and helped him snap out of his daze.

Nox saw the next wave coming and as he braced for it, he eased up onto his knees and leant over the seat. The waved crashed over the side this time and wet his legs and cloth-covered feet. He moved over as far as he could and when he looked around, he couldn't believe his eyes. Two little kids were standing side by side and staring at him from barely a metre or so away. They wore matching denim overalls, but that's where the similarities ended. One had blond hair, some of which danced across his eyes in the breeze, the other child had curly dark hair that scattered in all directions.