Maltese Steel Page 6

  Calver wrenched himself from his seat, forcing the chair to slide away to the side, teeth and fists, clenched in anger.

  This wasn’t supposed to be happening; it was meant to be easy.

  An evil grin crept across Calver’s face.

  He knew people.

  The sort who made problems go away.

  The sort of people who weren’t squeamish – and did not ask questions.

  Calver sat back down with a smile and finished going through his emails.

  ‘It will all be OK in the morning,’ he said to himself, as he took another hit from the bottle.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was five the next morning when Steel woke from his troubled sleep. He decided to go for a run. Hoping to shake off the effect of the long flight, and too much wine the night before. Steel had taken another taxi home from Foster’s. Thinking Stan could have used the rest, considering it was nearly eleven at night when he had left.

  The sun had not yet risen. However, the sky was already dark purple. Steel had left the hotel and headed south from his location. He was heading for the other side, towards Valletta’s waterfront. The run would take him at least thirty minutes because he did not know the lay of the land. He was used to the streets of Manhattan. The broad long, straight roads with towering buildings.

  Here, he had narrow, surprisingly steep streets to contend with, more like San Fransico. The city was compact and beautiful.

  But even in the early morning, it was warm.

  The run would give him the chance to learn the roads and acclimatise.

  The high twenties in Malta was far different than high twenties in NYC. Luckily, he was there in March when it was not so warm as July and August – the hot months.

  Steel noticed how much the streets were clear of traffic. Almost as if he was the last person on earth. He made his way down the picturesque Triq L-Assedju L-Kbir – one of the main streets that ran from the hotel.

  Steel was amazed at the amount of strange, old buildings on the route. One of which was a C-shaped hotel surrounded by trees. A chilled wind nipped at his face as he went, taking in the sights as he went. His feet pounded the concrete as he pushed the pace. A police car passed him, followed by a taxi and a guy on a scooter. Across the road he saw a couple of joggers, heading in the opposite direction. He smiled to himself, glad he wasn’t the only one fool enough to be up and running so early.

  All seemed safe and yet surreal. Steel was in Malta trying to find what had happened to his friend’s daughter, a friend he had not seen for years. He still wondered, why him? After all, Foster worked for the CIA. A Section Chief no less, so why get Steel involved? Why was this off the books? Foster had explained a few things the night before. How she was seeing some guy from the firm, Foster did not know who, she wouldn’t say. Kids and their secrets, Steel thought to himself as Foster explained the relationship. But they had broken up weeks before.

  To Steel, that did not matter; it was a place to start. After all, there was nothing like an angry lover. Then Foster told Steel about Lucy’s work with the conservation community. ‘A bunch of hippies who want to protect a lot of old rocks,’ one angry developer had said in an interview with the local paper. His million dollar deal to build a shopping mall on top of an ancient ruin was thrown out. Lucy and her colleagues had also received threats from angry film companies who wanted to shoot scenes on protected sites.

  Steel had a list of people to talk with, starting with the ex-boyfriend and then the developers. Steel had also considered it may have been something to do with Foster and his job, but Foster had shrugged that theory off. Foster was in charge of people who stared at computer screens all day checking facial recognition at the airport; he had nothing to do directly with the operation. Foster was just a figurehead if something went wrong. Despite what Foster had told him, Steel was still going to check.

  Steel had made it back to the hotel as the sun was breaking the horizon. He spent an hour in the gym before showering then headed to the restaurant and a hearty breakfast.

  Steel needed to be full, he did not know when he would eat again.

  He opened up the map of the island he had purchased from the airport. It was detailed, showing all the major routes and places of interest. More importantly, it fitted in his pocket.

  Steel sometimes considered paper better than electronics. Small, convenient, and if need be, you can burn it, and you don’t have to worry about having a signal with a map.

  He folded the map, so it showed the island of Gozo. That would have been his first port of call. Foster had said they had found her near a place called Azure Window – whatever that was, but the ME wouldn’t be available to see him until later in the week. That left Steel open to check out Lucy’s apartment and workplace first. Steel hadn’t seen her since she was young, now he had to try and get inside her head.

  Steel needed to see where and how Lucy lived before he saw where she died. He downed the rest of his coffee, then stood up to face the ocean view. The sun was high but not yet at full strength.

  Foster sat at the breakfast bar drinking coffee from his Best dad in the world mug. It had been a gift from the two girls for his promotion to Section Chief.

  That seemed like a lifetime ago now.

  Foster had been in the Washington office then, chasing bad guys the old fashioned way. But he was now classed as old school, a relic. The new post wasn’t so much a promotion as being put out to pasture. Foster was in his fifties, the truth was he always felt like an old man next to Steel, but he still had plenty to give. Hell, he could outrun most of the new guys on the track, and he could still beat the crap out of them.

  He had forgotten more about been an agent than most of the newbies had or would ever learn. He looked around at his wife and little girl and smiled. The new job may be taking him out of the crosshairs, but he gained more time with his family. For that, he wasn’t angry, however much the system made him mad.

  The little tv on the counter next to the microwave showed the latest news on the island. There had been a car bomb in Rabat. No one was hurt, but many had been injured.

  Foster shook his head in dismay.

  This once-peaceful place was becoming as dangerous as the rest of the world.

  Foster finished his coffee and put on his grey suit jacket. His gaze stayed on the news channel. The first thing he would have to do is find out what sort of threat the bombing was.

  Was it a terrorist, or just some guy who had cheated on his wife? He had seen it before in Miami. Some asshole life insurance salesperson caught with his pants down by his wife. She had been military; part of the bomb squad unit. One day the man said he was going on a trip out of town and would be gone all day. She had followed him to his girlfriend’s place. It had been some big beach house with a long drive and four garages. She had seen them through a window, and he sure as hell wasn’t selling her insurance.

  She’d rigged the car.

  It hadn’t been quick; she had made sure the car caught fire first before exploding. She had made sure she could see him squirm before he was blown to pieces. The explosion was immense, destroying the car, and it took half the house and the mistress with it.

  Foster kissed Martha and Abby goodbye and headed off to work. He had been offered the chance for compassionate leave, but he needed to work. Foster needed to be doing something. Besides, Martha had said Foster would be more useful to Steel if he was at the Embassy. Foster knew she just wanted him out of the house. He pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed-dial for the office. Foster knew Edward Bryce; his second in command and floor chief would be there. Foster waited for a few moments, allowing Bryce to get to the phone, or spit out whatever he had just taken a bite of for breakfast.

  ‘Morning boss?’ said Bryce, almost choking on his breakfast.

  ‘Edward, sorry for disturbing your meal,’ Foster said.

  ‘No problem, boss,’ lied Edward. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Car bomb in Rabat, what do we
know?’ Foster asked, walking towards his vehicle.

  ‘Not much yet, there hasn’t been any chatter, so this is a bit of surprise. Chances are it’s just local, but we’re looking into it none the less,’ Edward said.

  ‘Roger that, I’ll be there in twenty, make sure we have eyes on. I want to know what the cops know,’ Foster ordered. Hanging up, he placed the phone in his pocket and got into his car. Leather moaned under his weight. Foster waited for a moment before turning the key and put the Land Rover into drive. His gut and head were in different places.

  His gut told him to cancel the secret operation he was about to set into motion. An operation that had been planned for months. Now they were ready to activate it. The section chief had told him to bring it online and watch them all burn. A phrase that Foster had found odd, considering there was no burning to be done, just identification. However, Foster kept thinking about Lucy. In a way, he hoped she had jumped because the alternative would be far worse. But he knew deep down there was something not right, he knew his little girl. She was too full of life to have done that. Suddenly, Foster feared the worst.

  Foster had given Steel Lucy’s address in the district of Lija. John Steel used the spare key that Foster had given him to open the front door. It was a quaint place, simply furnished, a one-bedroom apartment, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. He stepped inside a small t-shaped hallway. The entranceway was littered with pictures of Lucy with family and friends.

  Stretching in front of him was a hallway. It was painted white with laminate flooring. The only light was three single bulb lamps, and the sunlight poured in from the rooms' open doors. There was a door to his right, which led to the kitchen. This was small but modern, with all the essentials. Steel began to look through the fridge and cupboards taking note of the bare minimum in crockery and cutlery. If anything there was two of everything. Possibly a starter pack of some kind. Steel had seen plenty of these in stores both in Britain and the States. On his search of the cupboards, Steel found tea bags and coffee granules. He picked up the kettle to test how much water there was.

  Half full.

  Steel tipped out the water and refilled it. Not wanting to make a drink with stale water and goodness knows what else inside. He placed it back onto the charger and switched it on. While he waited for the kettle to boil, Steel opened the refrigerator and checked to contents. He had learnt that you could tell a lot about a person by what they eat. And by all accounts, Lucy was a careful eater.

  It was mostly healthy foods with a lot of fruit and vegetables. The freezer compartment had a lot of fish and chicken. He wasn’t surprised at the lack of red meat. But, Steel bet she liked the odd rib-eye at one of Foster's barbecues; if they were still as good as what Steel had remembered from the old days. As he looked around, he noticed that the kitchen was neat and organised. Lucy had been as house proud as her mother. A sudden click from the kettle caused Steel to turn to see the mist rise from the kettle's spout. Steel grabbed a mug, the instant coffee and made himself a black coffee. He wandered through to the next room along the hallway; which had been Lucy’s bedroom.

  He tapped the door open with his boot. It opened slowly, revealing a brightly lit room, as the sun poured through a single window, illuminating the room. There was a double bed made up for one, along with a wardrobe and a dresser. On the dresser, were boxes filled with a mix of cheap and what appeared to be expensive jewellery. Steel checked the bedside cabinets and wardrobe. The room held more pictures of Lucy on adventures; scuba-diving of some corral, mountain biking by the edge of a cliff, with a fantastic sea view. The drawers held nothing much to help with the case, only clothes.

  By all accounts, this was a young woman who liked to live alone. Steel knew there was a boyfriend in the picture, but figured he never spent the night here. The way the place was set out, this was her sanctuary.

  Leaving the bedroom, he entered the sitting room. Despite the compactness of the space, it was arranged as both an office and a living room. On a back wall, a long wooden unit held books and glass sculptures. In another corner was a large standard lamp next to a potted plant.

  A long brown couch stretched in front of a medium-sized tv. In a back corner was a large monitor next to a desktop computer. On a wall next to the computer hung a corkboard. It was three-by-two feet with a thick dark brown frame. Steel noted the collage of notes and stickers to remind her of things to do that week. There were food shopping lists and a reminder to take food to the cat sanctuary.

  Steel sat at the computer and switched it on. The monitor flashed, and there was a beep from the tower. Steel was hoping Lucy was comfortable enough in her surroundings, that there was no password. He sneered at his misfortune as the system asked for the password. Lifting the keyboard; Steel checked underneath for evidence of a reminder but found nothing. Steel rocked in the chair and looked around for signs of anything she may have used, but saw nothing.

  While he pondered over the password, he checked the small set of drawers under the desk for anything important. There were bank statements, paychecks from the Presidential Gardens. Steel had remembered Foster had said she’d had a day job in one of the gardens.

  He continued to search about, finding data sticks by the dozen and memory cards for a camera. Steel stuck them in his pocket and closed the drawers.

  The screen still held the taunting message, Please enter a password. Steel sat, sipping black coffee. Hoping for the insight to crack the password.

  Steel shrugged and just typed in PASSWORD; more out of frustration than anything. He looked up at the screen as there was another beep and the operating system kicked in.

  ‘You got to be kidding me,’ Steel said. He did not know whether to be impressed at his luck or disappointed at her choice. But the more he thought about it, her decision made sense. After all, she lived alone, so why pick something difficult.

  Steel checked the files on her desktop, but they were just working calendars and things related to the conservation group. Then he studied the files on her hard drive; concentrating on recently downloaded files.

  Lucy had thousands of photographs and music files. The movie file was also quite large; mostly romantic comedies and action films. Steel checked further at her archives, trying to find anything that might explain why she would have taken her own life or worse, someone took it from her.

  As Steel searched through the rest of the folders, he came across one that had been created only a few days before her death. It was a video file; from a cell phone or camera. Lucy and some guy were walking across a massive cliffside, with the ocean on their left. The land looks different from what he had seen on Malta, harsher but strangely beautiful. Lucy was narrating as they walked, explaining some of the plant life and animals; almost like a documentary. The man with her was trying to do an impression of David Attenborough or some other wildlife presenter; making Lucy laugh at his lousy imitation.

  Steel watch intently; searching for something he would recognise in the background for future reference, a cliff face or rock formation. As he watched, the camera panned across to the man and glimpsed another island. The ground around the man was jagged, limestone rock, dark green bushes, and sun-scorched grass. It had been a quick coastal shot. The camera action had been more on the man and the scenery. But, what there was gave Steel something to work on, all he had to do was find out where exactly it was.

  Steel closed the file and checked how many more she had.

  Too many to copy, and he had the feeling he needed to leave. Steel closed down the computer and headed back into the kitchen. He hadn’t found a screwdriver on his search so a knife would do just as well. Steel took out the holding screws and slid off the side of the computer. After locating the hard drive, he unplugged it and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Steel put the computer back together and placed it back on the desk as though nothing had been disturbed. He stood up and looked around one last time, then left. Locking up on his way. As Steel stepped back into the busy streets, he pulled ou
t his phone to check the next thing on his to-do list. Check out the ex-boyfriend.

  Steel hailed a passing cab.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The phone in the secure office rang, and the man known as Alpha picked up.

  ‘Yes,’ said Alpha.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ Beta asked. The tone was full of anger and panic.

  ‘Who do you think you are talking too?’ growled Alpha.

  ‘Fine – sorry sir, but for now, we have a situation,’ said Beta.

  ‘The cop?’ said Alpha.

  ‘He went to the girl’s apartment, I think he’s going to find the kid next?’ said Beta.

  The was silence. Alpha was thinking.

  ‘We can be at the location and good to go in twenty – we just need the green light. Sir?’ said Beta.

  Alpha nodded to himself. It was a reasonable plan. ‘Do it, but see if you can get anything he has on him, I don’t need a trail,’ Alpha said. He hung up and smashed his fist onto the desk. Then he sat quietly in the darkness of his room, planning.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sun hung in a cloudless blue sky, and flocks of birds darted here and there on a warm breeze. Steel was in a taxi heading for Mosta, a large city to the north. Steel took out his phone and flicked through the notepad app. Foster had given him a list of people he thought would be necessary to the investigation. One was that of Lucy’s best friend; Zoe Keen. Another was a guy called Brad West; Lucy’s ex-boyfriend.

  The cabbie drove as if he was in the Dakar Rally. Steel held on in the back of the old Ford, as it skidded about on the dusty tarmac roads. Steel smiled to himself as he listened, to what could only be an argument with the man and his wife. The man was yelling in Maltese – and very loudly over the phone’s wireless earpiece.

  The cabbie’s driving got more erratic, the louder he shouted. Steel grabbed the handgrip on the door as the cabbie overtook a woman on an old scooter, and just missed an oncoming truck. Steel grinned childishly. This was both entertaining and thrilling. A feeling he hadn’t gotten much of recently.