Maltese Steel Page 7

  Zoe Keen worked in a Pharmacy as a chemist assistant. According to Foster, she had worked there for a couple of years. Before that, she was at another store in Victoria on Gozo. Before leaving his hotel, Steel had done some background work on Zoe. However, nothing of great importance stuck out. Father; a man named Albert Keen worked at the embassy at the same time as Foster, in fact, they were good friends. The mother; Sue, died two years ago of cancer, soon after, Albert took to drinking and lost his job. Last year he perished when his car went off the road and crashed. The ME at the time concluded it was accidental death due to driving while intoxicated. The story of Zoe was sad, but not one he hadn’t heard before.

  The more Steel had read into Zoe’s past, the more he understood the bond between her and Lucy. According to Foster, Lucy was always there for Zoe.

  If anyone knew Lucy well, it would be Zoe.

  The taxi stopped abruptly on Constitution Street. There were cafes and restaurants, a cell phone repair place and a couple of shops sporting handbags and shoes. Across the road was a colossal domed cathedral – or the Mosta Rotunda. It reminded Steel of the Pantheon in Rome.

  But he hadn’t been to Rome for the view. And now, just as he had been then, he had a job to do.

  Steel looked up at the magnificent structure. Massive limestone pillars stood proudly at a pinnacled main entrance. Either side bell towers loomed, each displaying a large brass bell and a clock face. Large groups of tourists began to gather outside on the walled forecourt leading up to the building, snapping photographs and taking in the view. Steel paid the cabbie with a ten euro tip. He was barely out before the cab sped off.

  Steel stood for a moment, taking in the massive structure and the surrounding buildings then turned to the buildings behind him. Seeing all the coffee shops and the restaurants, he started to feel hungry. The breakfast seemed a long time ago after that terrifying taxi ride. Steel gaze darted from cafes to a place that advertised as ‘Take-out and Pizzaria.’ He felt his stomach give a grumble and gave it a gentle tap a promise of a hearty meal later. Then he turned to look down to his right and smiled.

  He had found the pharmacy.

  Steel noticed the strong scent of healing creams, teas, and something he could not identify on entering the store. The store was quite large, with wooden shelves and glass cabinets. Two people stood at the front in white medical coats.

  One was a short man in his fifties, the other a dark-haired woman around the same age. They stood chatting to customers while two younger women rushed about doing the work. One of the women was tall with short blonde hair. Steel remembered seeing her picture in Lucy’s apartment, the unkempt hair, the smile, the hummingbird tattoo on her neck. This was most definitely Zoe Keen.

  Steel waited until the pharmacy was empty of customers before approaching the chemist. The man looked up from a handful of small boxes he was putting away into a drawer behind the counter. Steel had noticed the man’s name tag, Mr Apap engraved in thick black letters on a gloss white backplate.

  ‘Yes sir, how may I help?’ the chemist said with a deep, friendly voice.

  ‘I’m looking for Zoe Keen,’ Steel said. ‘I was told she works here.’

  ‘And you are?’ the chemist asked suspiciously.

  ‘I’m her friend’s uncle,’ Steel said. Looking over at the backroom door as it slid open slowly. Zoe Keen stood in the doorway for a moment, then nodded as if to confirm she was the one he was searching.

  ‘I’m Zoe. You must be Uncle John?’ she said.

  Zoe had spoken to the chemist and had taken a break. Stepping out onto the street, Zoe turned right, led Steel to a nearby café so they could have a little privacy.

  ‘Why here? What was wrong with the other café down the road?’ Steel said.

  Zoe shrugged. ‘I like the cakes here, and I get a discount.’

  Steel said nothing, just sat there, silent, waiting.

  She began to fidget.

  He kept his face was cold, emotionless.

  Zoe seemed pale, sick. Understandable Steel had thought, Losing someone could have that effect on a person – or was it something else?

  They were sitting outside in the shade. The sun was high but on the other side of the building. A fresh breeze made its way down the busy streets, blowing up the skirts of unsuspecting women and lifting up hats, like some mischievous spectre.

  A tall, thin waiter came and took their drink orders. Zoe ordered a cappuccino, Steel went for a Café American. Steel could feel the lack of caffeine in his system.

  ‘I don’t get why she did it,’ Zoe said, choking back a tear.

  ‘Why she did what?’ Steel asked.

  ‘Killed herself of course… jumped off Azure Window,’ Zoe answered, almost puzzled by Steel’s question. ‘What else would I mean?’

  Her tone was nervous; almost as if she thought he had discovered something.

  ‘I don’t know. What else would you mean?’ Steel asked.

  At first, all Steel wanted to know was Lucy’s state of mind before the accident, now Zoe had let something slip, and he wanted to learn more.

  Zoe’s eyes widened, and tears began to flow. It seemed to be more out of fear than remorse. But fear of what?

  As Steel looked into her eyes, he saw something. A secret.

  ‘You don’t think she jumped. In fact, you know she did not,’ Steel said, sitting back in his chair.

  Zoe looked terrified. ‘What? No! I was nowhere near there, I swear,’ she said. Fear rang in her voice – loud and clear.

  ‘But you have an idea who was,’ Steel growled, leaning forwards like a predator ready to strike.

  Zoe looked around to make sure nobody could hear her. Her mouth flapped open and closed like a fish gasping out of the water. ‘Lucy was on Gozo with Brad, he found something, he wanted to show her,’ Zoe explained, a look of relief crossed her face as if a massive weight was lifted from her shoulders.

  ‘Do you know what he found?’ Steel asked calmly. His face still stern.

  ‘No, but I do know Lucy and Brad had split up. Something had happened between them. Lucy never said what, but she wasn’t the same again after. Whatever it was, it was bad,’ she explained, leaning forwards, closing the gap between them. Steel took a sip from the coffee that just arrived while he took in the new information.

  ‘Do you know where Brad is now?’ Zoe went to shake her head but stopped. Her eyes fixed on something behind Steel.

  ‘Yes,’ Zoe’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘He’s right behind you,’ she said, pointing over Steel’s shoulder. Steel turned to see a young man dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a bikers jacket. The mousey haired man stood on the other side of the street. He was in his mid-twenties, and from his hairstyle and the way he dressed, he thought highly of himself. He was busy checking something on his cell phone, which meant he had not seen Zoe or Steel.

  ‘Zoe, it may be a good time for you to go back to work,’ Steel said, as he stood up slowly, ensuring he placed himself between Zoe and Brad. Steel did not want to risk Brad suddenly looked over and saw Zoe talking to someone he might mistake as a cop. Steel told her to stay still for a second until it was safe to move. Steel was waiting for a crowd of people to pass next to them. As the tourists walked by, Steel nodded to Zoe, giving her the signal to move. A moment later, she’d disappeared in with the crowd.

  Steel smiled to himself as he turned to face Brad. ‘OK, Mr West, let’s see what you have to say.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Airbus A320 landed safely and headed towards the designated area.

  It was the six o’clock flight from Tunisia.

  The sound of turbines powering down filled the plane as they came to a final stop far from the terminal building. Outside baggage trucks and the mobile stairs moved forwards to get the passengers off as quickly as possible. Two buses came to a halt just short of the stairs, waiting to carry the two-hundred people safely to the terminal.

  Stepping out of the plane, Aamir looked aro
und for a second. Taking in the warmth of the sun, and the view of the surrounding landscape. As he made his way down the stairs, he switched on his cell phone and typed a quick message. Hi mom, got here, OK.

  He pressed send then switched off the phone completely. Aamir made his way through to the baggage claim and waited for the carousel to start moving. He stood near a back wall underneath a security camera. One of his colleagues had done reconnaissance days earlier and noted where all the cameras were.

  Aamir pulled put on his sunglasses and waited. He wore a beige suit with a blue shirt, thinking a baseball cap and hoodie would draw too much attention. He needed to fit in, not stick out. Just be an average guy.

  In fact, there was nothing extraordinary about him. He was the average guy, average height, average build. This worked well for Aamir, it meant he could blend in – or disappear.

  There was a loud clunk as the baggage conveyor began to move, and a red hazard light started to flash above a monitor that showed the name of the flight.

  Aamir waited patiently as the first of the bags began to circle. There was a large crowd forming near where the bags were coming from a hole in the wall. But Aamir waited. He knew the attention would be on the crowd, and not at a quiet spot near the end. Aamir was good at reading people, after all, it was essential to his job. Aamir shook his head, laughing to himself at how utterly predictable passengers were.

  He saw his bag slide out, a large black armoured suitcase with a strange grey swirling pattern. On the top was a sticker of a red Trojan Horse’s head. Aamir had put it on earlier, making sure the case was easy to spot. He waited until it was close by then walked over casually and grabbed it. Aamir made his way through the airport without any trouble. He was dressed well and walked like a tourist. He was invisible.

  As he stepped out of the airport, the warm air and blazing sunshine hit him. He closed his eyes to soak in those beautiful rays. For him, it was cold. The weather back home was much more intense. Aamir looked over at a car that was approaching. The old Mitsubishi SUV used to be red; but was now, the paint had faded to near pink, and the edges were full of rust.

  Better than a shiny new truck that would stand out.

  The vehicle stopped, two men got out and embraced their friend. There was a short man, the driver, and a much taller man who was obviously the muscle. The tall man grabbed Aamir’s suitcase and placed it into the wagon's trunk, as Aamir got in the back of the SUV.

  ‘Good flight, brother?’ asked the small man as he sat behind the wheel.

  Aamir said nothing; he just nodded with a gentle smile.

  ‘Everything you requested is ready at the safe house,’ the small man added.

  Aamir reached into his pocket and pulled out the cell phone and turned it on. ‘Let’s go,’ he ordered. The small man nodded and put the car into gear and drove off. Aamir sent a quick text to the safe house to note his arrival, then placed it back in his pocket. The small man switched on the local radio station it was playing some oldies. Aamir rolled up his jacket and put the makeshift pillow against the window.

  A mixture of late nights and an early flight had taken its toll. Aamir had much to do once they reached their destination, but for now, he would try to sleep and dream of what was soon to come, and the glorious battle ahead.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Steel weaved in and out of the crowds of tourists, trying to blend in, attempting to be invisible so he wouldn’t be seen by his quarry.

  Steel did not rush in his pursuit. He was tall enough to see over most people's heads, but at the same time, he wasn’t so tall he stood out.

  Steel kept Brad in his sights. Twenty-feet out. Far enough to not give off that sixth sense people have when they think they are being followed.

  The trick is not to make himself noticeable. Suddenly turning around to look at a magazine rack makes someone look suspicious. If the person turns around, you just keep walking, even if it’s straight past them. Steel was mixed in with a group of tourists, the perfect cover, and in this city – there was plenty to make a person stop and look at the architecture.

  And that’s what Steel did. He walked a little, took some photos with his cell phone of the scenery, then moved on.

  Steel wanted to see where Brad was going, what he was doing, and more importantly, who he spoke with.

  Zoe’s reaction to Brad’s arrival made Steel think, why was the man there in the first place? Was he innocent, just a piece on the board, or was he in it up to his neck? Steel remembered Zoe saying that Brad had found something on the other island and that he and Lucy had broken up after that. Which led to the obvious question – what did Brad find?

  Unfortunately, Brad wasn’t doing much of anything. He just walked around. He did not speak to anyone, he never stopped, he just walked. Steel was starting to think Brad wasn’t a person of interest – or even interesting for that matter.

  That was until Brad stopped.

  The young man stood looking at his cell phone then began moving around strangely. The more Steel watched, the more he realised Brad was using an online map search. Brad suddenly looked over towards Zoe’s place of work and started to move forward.

  Steel hung back slightly. Allowing the gap to grow, so he would go unnoticed, but close enough to get to Brad in case he tried something.

  Steel thought it strange Brad should be there. Foster had mentioned that Brad lived and worked in Valletta, but it could be a coincidence.

  Only Steel wasn’t big on coincidences.

  He watched as Brad stopped in front of the pharmacy and stared through the window. A bad feeling ran through Steel as he watched Brad smile as Zoe appeared from the backroom. As Brad reached into his jacket pocket, Steel rushed forward, hoping Brad wasn’t armed.

  ‘Hi…Brad West, we need to talk,’ Steel call, hoping to scare Brad from doing something stupid. Brad turned open-mouthed, fear painted on his face. Steel was only a few feet away when Brad took to his heels.

  Steel rolled his eyes, why did they always run? Brad set off quickly, his arms pounding out the pace, he yelled at people to get out of his way. Steel took off after him, dodging onlookers as he went, hot in pursuit down the main street.

  Steel had to catch Brad quick. Brad knew his way around, Steel did not. Looking over a map of the cities wasn’t as good as having the quarry's local knowledge. Brad was fast – but so was Steel.

  Mosta was a maze of streets, but, unfortunately for Brad, not too many alleyways. Steel was thankful this wasn’t New York or London. All the houses were built together, cutting off any quick escape. Steel figured Brad would try for one of the frequent buses, or somewhere familiar to hide.

  Steel was closing in. The many groups of tourists made things difficult, but not impossible to get through. They slowed Steel down ‒ more importantly, they slowed Brad down.

  Steel wasn’t far behind, but fear kept Brad going. When the adrenaline kicked in a person could be as fast as an Olympic sprinter. The trouble with adrenaline is, it does not last that long, and left a person cramped up.

  That was all Steel had to wait for.

  He was waiting for pain signs to see Brad on the ground holding a calf muscle or upper thigh.

  But he never did, Brad just kept on running. The clip, clop of his shoes echoed off the cobbled street.

  They were heading north on Constitution Street, a long straight road. Perfect for keeping track on Brad as he ran. But Brad had been smart, the street was full of shops and tourists. Steel had kept up with him, and inched closer. Pushing past groups of people, missing dogs on leads that barked and snapped.

  Still, Steel pursued.

  Closer and closer.

  Now Steel was just inches away, close enough to reach out and grab Brad’s collar.

  Soon it would be over, and Steel would have his answers.

  Steel was so close now he could feel the heat from Brad’s body on his figure tips.

  Just reach out and grab the bastard, Steel thought. Stop fucking about. />
  Steel’s heart pounded in his chest. The air seemed thin from the heat of the day. Steel made a lunge forwards, his hand outstretched.

  Steel was suddenly ripped off his feet as a car knocked into him. Intent on his pursuit, Steel hadn’t noticed they were crossing the road. Steel growled at the driver and launched himself off the hood of the car and took chase. Now, he was mad.

  Brad looked behind down the street to see his pursuer bounce off a car. He slowed to watch, a broad grin spreading on his face.

  ‘Jackass,’ Brad shouted at Steel. But the smile faded, and a look of utter fear replaced it. Steel was up again, coming for him, and he looked murderously angry. Brad turned and took off.

  Panic clouded his judgment.

  The car should have stopped the guy, but the man kept coming, he wasn’t just a man, he was a killing machine, a Tank.

  They must have sent him.

  Steel ignored the pain in his side, set his sights on the frightened Brad, and ran. The two men hurried down the street, tossing people out of the way as they went. Steel could see something was driving Brad, and it had to be more than just fear of him.

  ‘Brad, stop! I am a cop, you idiot!’ Steel screamed forwards. But Brad either did not hear or did not trust him. Steel looked passed his quarry, further on was a bridge and then another part of the city. Steel had wondered why Brad had not taken one of the many other side roads, tried to lose Steel in that part of the town. The bridge was long with no room to hide, no good cover.

  Or was his planning to jump?

  Steel needed to catch Brad, and he needed to do it now. Sweat poured out of Steel. He felt the burning sensation from his legs and side from where the car had struck him, but he dug deep and powered on, fighting the pain. The bridge wasn’t far now. He could hear Brad yelling something, but it was drowned out by the beating of his heart in his ears. Then Steel saw it as Brad reached the bridge, something that changed everything.