Read GoodBye Morality Page 42


  ‘I’d also like to look at Elgberg’s house,’ Fox persisted. ‘Will you give me directions?’

  Branco wagged one finger. ‘Come now, Inspector, we both know you have no jurisdiction here. I cannot let you wander around on your own. As you heard, my superior is far from happy and I would lose my job, if I left you unescorted. Everything must be done through us.’

  Fox knew he was up against a brick wall. His only chance was a bit of covert bribery. ‘I have to go back with something. My department is under pressure from the highest authorities, not only the stock market institutions but even, and keep this quiet, the British government. If you help, your name will go down in my report as having been of the greatest assistance.’

  Branco thought for a moment then asked Fox to wait. ‘I will have a word with my superior, see if perhaps one of our men could be allocated to you for a day. Would that be of some help?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  The Spaniard lifted the phone. His conversation became more and more heated. Finally he threw down the receiver and shook his head. ‘The answer’s still no. If you want us to investigate, he wants all the papers sent here to Palma, together with a British policeman who knows the case, then he will appoint a Spanish team to do the work. That’s only if your Elgberg has broken any Spanish laws or you bring an extradition order a Spanish Court can accept.’

  ‘There’s no time for all that,’ Fox answered with rising frustration.

  ‘That is hardly our fault.’ Branco shrugged. ‘And off the record, Inspector, my superior has also instructed me to keep an eye on you while you are here.’

  * * *

  Fox left Branco’s office, seething. He checked a tourist map of the island. The name of the nearest town to Elgberg’s house was Punto Verger. He went straight to the promenade and asked several taxi drivers to take him there. At last, by promising to pay double fare, he persuaded a driver to take him on the two hour drive.

  Once in Punto Verger, the driver then had to ask the way to the Cave. Meeting blank looks, Malcolm looked at the map and ordered him to take a dusty track. After they had gone a few miles they came to a low metal gate and a man appeared in front of the car, forcing them to stop.

  ‘This is a private road,’ he said. ‘Have you written authorization? If not, you must turn back. Comprende?’

  The driver shrugged eloquently at his passenger. ‘Senor?’

  ‘Do as he says. Fox sighed and gestured to the driver to turn back. He thought it best not to draw attention to himself. At least he had found out that Elgberg’s house was well guarded.

  As they reversed, he noticed a small white car parked a little way off beside the track. A man sat in the front seat reading a newspaper.

  When they finally arrived back at his hotel the same car drove past slowly. Fox went inside the lobby, waited a couple of minutes, then came out again. The car was parked a few yards down the road. 

  Back in his room, he telephoned Sutcliffe. ‘I’ve been to Elgberg’s house but it’s guarded. The Spanish Police aren’t going to be much help. If anything has to be done, it’s got to be by a Spanish team and not us.’

  The Chief Inspector started to bluster about bloody time wasting.

  Malcolm cut him short. ‘Sorry, sir, the line’s pretty bad, I can’t hear you. Anyway, I seem to have picked up a tail. Branco told me they’d be keeping an eye on me. And I just happened to see Ann Dockett at the airport when I arrived.’

  ‘And that’s all you’ve come up with?’ Sutcliffe sounded despairing. ‘Listen, I’ve had another run‑in with the Home Office. I’ve got to have a report ready by nine o’clock Monday.’

  ‘I wonder if Mrs Dockett would be willing to talk to us in exchange for a reduction in her husband’s sentence?’ Malcolm had to think quickly to give his superior some hope. ‘I’m flying back Saturday morning. I can meet you before the meeting and I’ll think up something to keep the Home Office sweet.’

  ‘We’ll need the Commissioner’s backing before we make any promises to the Docketts,’ Sutcliffe said grudgingly. ‘But it’s worth thinking about, I suppose. See you on Monday.’

  * * *

  After his man had reported Fox’s movements, Erick Elgberg used the secret phone once again. He dialled the same number.

  ‘He’s been to Branco, the local man in charge of fraud. Then this afternoon he came here... No, of course not, he was turned back before he even saw the place. But I’m worried. What about tomorrow? You know who’s coming. We can’t afford to have a policeman snooping round, tomorrow of all days...’

  ‘Erick, take your people off the job. My own men have arrived on Mallorca and everything has been taken care of. Let me deal with this,’ ordered John.

   

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  _________________________

  Mallorca, 10th September 1987

  Sir Conrad Jensen arrived at the Cave with his entourage at eleven in the morning. He was a frail elderly man in failing health. He was accompanied by his wife Vanessa, their son, and grandson, Randolph Purcell and his wife Dorothy.

  As the price for the shares had been agreed at the Cannes meeting, it only remained for George von Fritzenberg to explain, step by step, how the banks had supported the merger.

  To Erick’s surprise, Randolph Purcell behaved impeccably. Since his meeting with John in France there had been no demand for favours in return for the introduction. He was supportive, but did not try to push Jensen’s forward into the final decision. It was left to him alone to take the most important step he had ever faced regarding his conglomerate. The papers were on the table in the meeting room, waiting for Conrad Jensen’ concluding signature.

  Andrea and Erick were the perfect hosts. After lunch on the terrace, they took their guests to the pool for coffee. During the break, Sam O’Sullivan caught Erick’s eye by waving discreetly from the edge of the terrace.

  Erick walked over to him.

  ‘Look over my shoulder,’ whispered Sam. ‘There’s a man in a dinghy taking photographs.’

  Erick nodded. He had spent the morning taking several phone calls from John about the movements of Inspector Malcolm Fox.

  Sam said urgently, ‘I’m sure it’s the man I followed from the airport. Is there anything you want me to do?’

  Erick sighed and shook his head. He thought about John’s last words which still echoed in his own mind.

  ‘No thanks, Sam. Everything has been taken care of. Let’s hope none of our guests notice him.’

  * * *

  Fox was hit by a rush of excitement that flooded through his whole body when he saw the profile of the man turning towards him.

  He had to put the camera down and wipe his face.

  Then he took up the camera. Now he could see the well‑known face in full. He shot picture after picture and continued until the film was finished.

  It was clear to Fox, that the mere prospect of Elgberg and his unknown backer gaining control of Jensen Trust PLC would scare the Government of Britain and the United States and could upset the confidence in the security market.

  Everything had fallen into place. As the Cave disappeared further behind him, his high excitement was replaced by a rush of euphoria. There was no way his team would be taken off the investigation now. Oh, yes, he was going to enjoy filing this report.

  Malcolm Fox had been sailing for about twenty minutes when he noticed a speedboat bobbing idly on the water dangerously close to the cliffs. Its engine had stopped and a man was waving for his attention.

  ‘Ahoy there!. I’ve run out of petrol,’ he shouted in English. ‘Can you give me enough to get me to the nearest beach?’

  Malcolm steered his dinghy nearer. The man seemed genuine enough. The boat was full of diving equipment and he was wearing a one piece black wetsuit, a stabilizing jacket with an aluminum air tank built in. Around his waist he had a quick release weight belt.

  ‘How come you ran out of petrol?’ Malcolm stopped the dinghy a f
ew feet away. ‘We’re not far out of Port d’Estellences.’

  The man laughed and shrugged. ‘Got too involved in what I was doing out there. I’m not used to speedboats – I’m a surgeon. Didn’t realise how much petrol they used. I’ve only been out since this morning!’

  Malcolm threw him the rope. ‘You from Scotland?’

  ‘Many years ago,’ the man said, pulling Fox’s dinghy nearer. He held out his hand for the petrol can. ‘Thanks. You have been a great help. What do I owe you?’

  His hand was now round Malcolm’s wrist like a vice.

  Malcolm Fox’s euphoria was wiped away by an icy sensation of fear.

  The petrol can fell into the water.

  As Malcolm Fox tried to prise the diver’s grip from his hand, he heard the hiss of rubber being punctured. Another diver bobbled up in the water and was slashing at one side of the dinghy. As Malcolm struggled, the man scrambled over the side into the sinking dinghy and threw the camera, films and Malcolm’s bag into the speedboat.

  Then the two of them pushed him into the water. An arm as rigid as a steel girder circled Fox’s chest. He could barely breathe. He was being pulled down underwater. His ankles were gripped. He tried to kick but his chest was hurting. His lungs felt as if they were about to explode.

  Then all was calm. He was floating away in a brilliant blue tide, soundless and serene. Slowly it turned black.

  A few minutes later the speedboat roared off, leaving the sea empty except for a collapsed rubber dinghy which was slowly being pulled down by the weight of Fox’s lifeless body entangled in the mooring rope.

   

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  _________________________

  Cala Vinas, Mallorca, Thursday, 10th September 1987

  Ann Dockett piled her clothes neatly on the dining table of her apartment, ready to be packed into her suitcase next morning. She had packed suitcases so often over the last months, she felt she could do it blindfold.

  Everything on the table was new. She had bought various items in shops all over the world and now here they were, ready to be packed for her holiday aboard the Elgbergs’ yacht.

  She had not been told anything about the trip, not even if there were to be other guests. She knew only that an important meeting was taking place at the Cave and tomorrow she would be picked up by Sam O’Sullivan, who would not be joining them on board.

  She had met the Elgbergs only a few times since she’d started working for them. They had been very pleasant, saying they wanted to get to know her better, but had always been surrounded by guests and staff. There had not been another approach like Andrea’s kiss on the first day and Anne felt torn between relief and disappointment.

  I’m not a kid, she thought, I’m a mature woman. Nothing should shock me now.

  That night she slept badly. At seven she got up, had a cup of coffee, packed the clothes in her case and dressed in a light blue bikini, which she wore under a matching summer dress. By the time Sam arrived at ten, she was in a state of nervous excitement.

  * * *

  ‘Come on, Ann, let’s get you settled in.’ Andrea was on deck to welcome her aboard. ‘Don’t worry, we have no other guests. This is our holiday, a couple of weeks away from everything. Erick needs it, after all his hard work.’

  ‘Oh, but won’t I be in the way? Surely you don’t want me in tow!’ Ann felt suddenly unaccountably alarmed.

  Andrea pointed to the shore. ‘We’re already sailing so it’s too late to change your mind. And we’ll love having you on board.’

  In her cabin, Ann unpacked. Half an hour later she met Andrea on the sun deck and was handed a cold glass of innocuous‑seeming fruit cocktail. They lay side by side on loungers.

  ‘Be careful. The sun is stronger at sea than ashore,’ said Andrea, looking at Ann’s already tanned body.

  ‘Isn’t your husband going to enjoy the sun?’

  Andrea shrugged. ‘It doesn’t look like it. Five minutes after we sailed he got a phone call and since then he’s been deep in conversation. I guess something’s has gone wrong somewhere. I can’t be bothered asking. A man like Erick loves his power games. We’ll see him at lunch.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘St Tropez. It’s my favourite place. Although it’s full of tourists, I love visiting the shops and restaurants and mixing with the smart people. Let me get you another drink. Another of these, or something else?’

  ‘Another of these, please. What is it?’

  ‘Fruit juice, brown sugar and lots of rum.’

  At lunchtime, Andrea went to look for Erick, but came back alone. ‘He sends his regards, but there is a problem he has to sort out first. Men!’

  Ann sat up too quickly. Her head swam. She decided to ask for water from now on.

  Andrea smiled. ‘I’ve ordered two seafood salads. Is that all right?’

  ‘Lovely.’

  ‘Let’s have a swim first.’ She picked up a telephone and spoke to the Captain. Immediately the speed of the yacht slowed and two of the crew reeled out a large shark net so they could swim in safety.

  After lunch, Andrea said, ‘You must excuse me but the sea air makes me tired. I think I’ll have a nap.’

  ‘I think I’ll do the same,’ said Ann, her eyelids drooping.

  ‘Good. You lie down and I’ll join you as soon as I’ve seen what my hopeless husband is up to.’

  Ann was almost asleep when Andrea came back and lay down beside her. A moment later she felt something touch her lips so lightly that in her drowsy state she was unsure it had actually happened.

  * * *

  At ten in the evening they were both dressed for dinner, waiting for Erick. After a while Andrea disappeared. She came back again a few minutes later frowning.

  ‘Erick can’t join us. There’s a big problem but he says he can sort it out from here. All I can do is to let him get on with it.’

  After dinner, the steward asked if there were anything more they wanted. Andrea ordered a bottle of champagne on the private deck. She and Ann went upstairs, sat down on each side of the table and sipped the champagne. Over the music system Boy George was singing Everything I Own. Lights along the coastline glinted like strings of fine diamonds.

  ‘We could ask some of the crew to take us back to town. Or you could come over here,’ Andrea said, stretching out one hand to Ann.

  She hesitated then rose and walked over. Andrea, still sitting, pushed her chair back and pulled Ann between herself and the table. She placed her hands under Ann’s skirt. Ann gave a little jump. The hand moved up her leg and she felt her panties being pulled down. Andrea carefully folded them up, leaned forward and laid them on the table like a trophy.

  Then her hand was on Ann’s thigh, moving up towards her triangle of blonde hair. One finger started an unhurried regular movement between her legs.

  Embarrassed, Ann leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling excitement stir within her body. Then, unexpectedly, the movement stopped. For a second she stood motionless, wondering what was going to happen next. Why had Andrea stopped?

  ‘I like to savour the submission of a beautiful woman,’ she whispered. ‘Go and sit down.’

  As if in a dream, Ann walked back round the table, sat down and drank some more Champagne. She could not speak, knowing that whatever she said would sound trite.

  Andrea broke the silence. They talked until midnight, finishing the champagne. Then Andrea ordered, ‘Come back.’ Ann immediately obeyed, excitement tingling through her once more. She walked over to where she had been standing before, leaning against the table.

  Andrea took off her skirt, folding it neatly and putting it on the table next to the panties.

  ‘Take off the rest dead‑slowly and give it to me,’ she ordered, and Ann unbuttoned her blouse and unhooked her bra which were added to the neat pile on the table.

  What a curious, luscious, awful yet wonderful sensation it was, Ann thought, to stand naked on the deck of a yacht, in
the darkness, far away from everything and everyone.

  Andrea pushed her chair back, sank to her knees in front of Ann and pushed her legs apart. She put her lips just barely against her hair. ‘You smell sweet,’ she said without moving.

  Ann could feel her warm breath. Andrea kissed her as if she were kissing a mouth. With her tongue, lips and teeth Andrea brought her close to climax, then got up and pushed her back on the table, one hand between her legs.

  Weak and dizzy, Ann rocked her head from side to side. It was all new for her. She wanted just a bit of time to determine her feelings, but she was given none as Andrea’s two fingers started whipping her secretion to a froth.

  Andrea’s hand brought her to orgasm and Ann made a piercing shriek.

  And froze.

  Erick was sitting on a chair a few yards away, watching them, smiling.

  She lay, panting, while her vision steadied. When she finally looked once more towards Erick, she saw that he was naked. He came over and kissed her lightly taking one of her breasts in his hands. ‘You are gorgeous,’ he said while taking her hand and letting the tip of her fingers touch him.

  He walked away. She noted his tanned shoulders and chest, his hard buttocks and strong brown legs. She had a sudden urge to touch him again but could not move. He pulled several sun mattresses in a line against the wall and threw pillows on them, then came back towards her. She closed her eyes as she was lifted and laid gently down.

  He went back for Andrea, also naked now and laid her next to Ann. Andrea put an arm round her and kissed her. The other hand went between Ann’s legs pushing her hips back towards Erick. Her buttock fitted the hollow of his groin. Startled she felt Andrea leaning over her, opening her and guiding Erick into her. She was being pushed against Andrea in deep thrusts from behind while Andrea’s hand was again moving between her thighs, her tongue searched Ann’s mouth, licking her teeth, letting her salvia drip into her throat. Ann moved her head biting Andrea’s lips. Nothing had ever felt like this before. It was like an fixation. She wanted it to stop now. She wanted it to continue for ever. Then she cried out, could not stop herself, in a thin but loud wailing moan. She felt Erick suddenly holding her still, shaking, while he came deep inside her.

   

  Ann stirred only once during the night when a plane passed low above them, but did not move.