The Mallorcan Bookseller (The 3R International Series Book 1) Page 12

  Downstairs in the entrance to the club, Sam and Lori were playing the part of two punters wanting to get into the club. They were both speaking in Spanish and pretending to have a bit of an argument with each other. Sam wanted to attract the doorman to try to get him to lift his left arm, so he could see if he had the same size tattoo as the guy who stole the van. Lori was playing her part well as a passionate and angry woman and he was trying not to laugh at her excellent performance, but the noise she was making was starting to annoy the doorman.

  This was the third bar they had tried with East European looking doormen and they’d had no luck so far. Just as Lori looked like she was running out of steam, ranting at Sam about him having been looking at another woman in the last club they had been in, Sam noticed the doorman start to get off his stool. It was still a very warm evening and he looked like he got a kick out of showing off his body, as he was wearing a short sleeved shirt that was just a little small for him, so it exaggerated his muscular body. As he moved, it gave both Sam and Lori the opportunity to look at his left wrist and there it was, a matching tattoo for the van thief. Seeing the doorman move seemed to make the wild Spanish woman calm and Lori started muttering apologies, but blaming her boyfriend for his wandering eyes.

  Seeing the woman calm down seemed to settle the doorman and he said in English, “So, are you coming in or not? Ten euros each at the door.”

  “Si, si, gracias,” said Lori and they walked past him into the club entrance.

  It was approaching midnight and the club was starting to fill up. They got a drink at the bar and took a walk around the club checking for other security guys. There were two more standing close by and neither looked like the van thief, so they paused and sipped at their drinks.

  “I think you enjoyed yourself back there Inspectora,” said Sam smiling.

  “I haven’t had so much fun since I can’t remember Sam. You know what that’s like Sam, the higher up the ranks you go, the less chance you get to go out and about with the team.”

  They were standing at the back of the club, looking around the room when she saw three men coming down some stairs.

  “I think we’ve just struck gold,” said Lori.

  Sam saw Lori looking across at the men who were by then moving through the club towards the entrance.

  She had immediately recognised that the man at the front was Sonny Sargsyan, the Armenian OCG boss. She didn’t have time to tell Sam, so she just beckoned to him to follow her as she quickly moved to catch the men up. Sonny was waiting at the entrance to the club as the other two men moved towards a black Porsche Cayenne.

  “Señor Sargsyan, I didn’t know you were involved in this place,” said Lori.

  The two men stopped what they were doing and started to move back towards Lori and Sam before Sonny motioned to them to stop.

  “Inspectora Garcia. What a pleasure to see you,” said Sonny, immediately realising she had been the woman he saw in the CCTV cameras.

  Lori tried not to show that she was the one taken aback, but he had seen her reaction, even if it was only a brief flicker of her eyes.

  “What? You didn’t think I would know the GEO had someone on the island? Come Inspectora, or can I call you Lori? We knew you were here from the moment you set foot on the island. So have you been getting anywhere with these dreadful crimes, especially the murder of that poor British woman? Who would do such a thing?”

  She saw he was smiling. The bastard was trying to get a reaction from her and he was doing a pretty good job as she struggled to maintain her composure. Sam didn’t know who this guy was, but assumed he must be linked to the Armenian OCG. Was this the boss? He was certainly full of himself and was enjoying goading Lori, who Sam could see was having a hard time not reacting, but then he saw her eyes narrow as she stood right in front of Sonny.

  “Yes, indeed Sonny, who would do such a thing?” said Lori who, without warning grabbed Sonny’s wrist and turned it over to show the same shaped tattoo she had now seen on both the van thief and the doorman.

  Sonny went as though to strike Lori. Sam stepped forward, but Sonny stopped as Lori quickly released the wrist.

  “Never touch me again woman,” said Sonny who was the one this time struggling to hold his anger in.

  “Can’t promise that Sonny. I got what I wanted. It was the tattoo. Your guy who stole the van. We got a picture of him and his tattoo, so know this. I am coming for you and so the next time I touch you it will be to put handcuffs on you, got it?” said Lori.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ thought Sam. ‘She’s fearless. He’s an OCG boss and she’s fronting him out and in one of his bars!’

  Sonny tried to show that he wasn’t rattled, but it was pretty obvious to everyone and there was a bit of a crowd gathering now as people had turned up to get into the club and were seeing this little side show for free.

  “I’ve no idea what you are talking about Inspectora, but I wish you and your boyfriend a very good and safe night.” He turned and looked at Sam. “I’m sure we will meet again, whoever you are.”

  Sam stared back. He had the advantage, at least for the moment, so better to ‘rattle the cage’ one last time before withdrawing.

  “No need to go looking mate. My name’s Sam Martínez. I’m also a cop, but from London and I can guarantee you’ll be seeing me again,” said Sam.

  Sonny was seething. But they were two cops and there was a crowd. This was not the time, so he tried to laugh things off as he walked towards the Porsche.

  “I look forward to seeing you again Señor and Señora, but perhaps next time without a crowd to give you some, what do you call it in London? Dutch courage?” said Sonny as he slammed the car door and the driver sounded the horn to clear a path as the car moved away.

  They looked at each other. Sam spoke first.

  “Well, I think we definitely rattled his cage.”

  Lori had gone quiet.

  “Are you okay Lori?” said Sam.

  “Si, si. He’s the one Sam. I saw it in his eyes. He has evil running through him, he makes my skin crawl,” said Lori.

  He saw she was shivering. It was still warm, maybe in the mid-twenties, but the guy really had made her skin crawl, so he put his arm around her and she moved into his body for warmth.

  “And look at me, being escorted down the street by a very handsome young man. The end to a perfect night,” said Lori with a smile returning to her face.

  Sam heard the word ‘end’ and gathered that Lori cuddling up to him was as far as she saw this night going. He wasn’t sure why he was even thinking like this. He didn’t think he was ready for any sort of a relationship yet, even if she had been interested in him and he certainly hadn’t thought of the two of them in any sort of romantic way. He smiled. He did really like her. She was full of fun, passionate about her work, very attractive and he had really enjoyed the evening in her company. Maybe things were changing for him. ‘Good luck to whoever captures your heart Lori Garcia,’ he thought to himself.

  “Okay, I might be being over-protective here, but can I walk you back to your apartment?” said Sam.

  “That’s really kind of you Sam, but there’s no need,” said Lori, just as a car pulled up alongside them and the passenger door opened. “We’ve had some backup looking after us tonight and this one is going to make sure I get home safely.”

  “I like your style Señora Garcia. Bona nit,” said Sam reverting to Mallorquin to say ‘Goodnight’.

  “Yes, good night and we will speak tomorrow,” said Lori and kissed him on both cheeks.

  TEN

  As the Porsche sped away from the Club, Sonny was drumming his fingers on the arm rest.

  He’d have the head of that bloody idiot, Gevorg, who had stolen the van and why the hell was a London cop in Mallorca and working with the GEO? That wasn’t something he would want Sergei to find out about. He needed more than ever to find Sergei’s grass and see to it that he had an unfortunate accident. He tapped Alex, who was sitting in
the front passenger seat, on the shoulder.

  “Bring Gevorg to me tonight. I’ll be down by the boat,” said Sonny.

  Alex looked at the driver. They knew Sonny well enough to know what a late night trip out on the boat meant for Gevorg. They drove on to Sonny’s villa, a large six bedroomed place with gardens running down to the waterfront and a jetty, alongside which was moored a sixty foot Sunseeker Predator.

  As Sonny got out of the car at the front door to the villa he said, “Don’t take too long and if he kicks up, hurt him.”

  Gevorg didn’t want to come quietly. Any audience with Sonny was something to usually be wary of, but being told to see him after midnight was not the sort of news he wanted to hear. As he started to back away from Alex, the Porsche driver stepped up behind and pistol whipped him with his Glock. They bundled him in the back of the Porsche and ten minutes later they were ushering him at gunpoint towards the boat where Sonny was sitting on deck with a drink in his hand.

  “Guys, guys, there’s no need for that. Gevorg, I’m so sorry, I only want a chat about future possibilities. I think the guys got the wrong end of what I was saying when I said to go and pick you up. Guys, I’ll deal with you later,” said Sonny.

  They all knew it was a charade, even Gevorg. They’d taken his gun off him, so there wasn’t much point in trying anything. He just hoped that whatever he’d done and he didn’t know he had done anything wrong, Sonny would make it quick.

  Sonny did make it quick. He liked Gevorg, but it was obvious that Garcia had something on Gevorg and so it was far better to get rid of the very thing she would be looking for and hope it blocked her progress. He couldn’t even just transfer him to another part of the business because then Sergei would find out and ask too many awkward questions. He even apologised to Gevorg. It really wasn’t personal and yes, it would be quick, which was him being, well, kind. He killed Gevorg with a single bullet to the head using a suppressor so as not to wake the neighbours. Then as Sonny stepped off the boat and walked back up the gardens towards the villa, Alex and the Porsche driver eased the Sunseeker away from the jetty and out towards the bay. Just past the tide line should be far enough thought Alex, far enough that the body wouldn’t float back in with the current.

  *****

  Terri had driven in her open top Merc. She said she wasn’t turning up for dinner with the MacDonalds at Cap Rocat in a white van. It hadn’t taken them long as she had driven fast for the five miles or so it was to the hotel from Portixol. She looked stunning in a summer evening dress as she stepped out of the car. Chris was waiting for them at the main entrance and Greg thought Chris’s eyes were going to pop out of his head when he saw her.

  She could always light up a room and it was good that she was going to be able to bring a moment of relief to John and his boys after the tragedy of losing Sheila. John as always, was business-like and kept his emotions in check, well almost anyway. The boys weren’t faring so well. Losing your mother was bad enough, but the manner in which she had died had hit them hard. Jack, the younger son was withdrawn, definitely not himself and Terri soon noticed this and spent time with him, gently talking to him and bringing him back into the conversation. Chris wanted to know the minutiae of what was happening, whereas John operated at a higher strategic level and so was more interested in the overarching plan. Greg did his best to satisfy all of their questions before they eventually sat down to eat. Terri then took over and made sure the conversation flowed, to keep the boys talking. John saw what she was doing and turned and spoke quietly to Greg.

  “She’s a lovely girl Greg and she’s done a great job taking their minds off their mother tonight. I still can’t believe Sheila’s gone, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you’re doing and please ask me for anything you might need to help you, whether that’s money, transport, expertise or whatever,” said John.

  Greg had known John MacDonald a long time now and knew he was never given to showing any great signs of emotion, so seeing him like this was difficult. He was taking it very hard, which was only to be expected, but it was making Greg think about what John’s expectations were. As it stood, it seemed pretty clear that if John had the killer in front of him right at this moment, then there was a good chance he would kill him with his bare hands if he could.

  John was an old school East Ender and vengeance was ‘an eye for an eye’. Greg had, on rare occasions, had to resort to what he referred to as a permanent resolution to deal with a problem confronting his clients, including Trent MacDonald. He was therefore prepared to fight fire with fire if things came to it. However, he was also very aware that Lori Garcia, on the other hand, would follow police protocols to bring the killer before a court and this might cause a conflict of expectations. This was something that was best not discussed now, but he might have to resolve this at a later time.

  They left at around midnight with a plan to see everyone back at the villa tomorrow as the police should have finished their crime scene investigation by then. It was a beautiful clear night and he felt the warmth in the air as Terri drove them back to her apartment. They had just turned into the underground carpark when his phone buzzed with a text. It was Lori. ‘Met up with Sam Martínez tonight and we rattled some cages. Found Armenians with same tattoo. Speak tomorrow’.

  “What’s that Dad?” said Terri.

  “It’s Lori, she’s been rattling cages apparently with Sam Martínez,” said Greg.

  “She’s two timing you then Dad!” said Terri in mock shock. “Rattling cages doesn’t sound very Spanish.”

  He ignored her attempt to get him to bite with the ‘two timing’ comment, although he did feel something of a slight pang of, what, jealousy? Maybe envy? ‘Good God’, he thought, ‘I’ve only been out for a drink with her and I’m behaving like a fifteen year old.’ So he focused on the ‘rattling cages’.

  “Yes, I wonder whose cages they’ve been rattling?” said Greg.

  “Well she’s only just texted you, just call her. You can tell her you’re missing her too.”

  “Will you just stop on this ‘setting me up for a romance’ with every woman I meet,” said Greg, “Or do I need to start on how Chris had his tongue hanging out all night and you let him drool all over you?”

  “No, sorry Dad. Doesn’t work on me,” she smiled. “The thing is, I know he was drooling, but hey, he needed to think about something other than his poor old mom. So are you going to ring her or what?”

  He gave in and called her. Lori saw his name come up on her mobile and picked it up and then stopped. ‘Easy girl. Don’t be too quick to answer. Don’t want him thinking you were hanging around in your bedroom hoping he might call,’ she thought, smiling to herself as she then picked up his call.

  “Greg, I hope I didn’t wake you or were you still with Señor MacDonald?” said Lori.

  “No, you didn’t wake me, we’re just on our way back to Terri’s place.” Terri motioned a wave. “She says ‘Hi’ by the way and is looking forward to meeting you. So whose cage have you rattled?” said Greg.

  “Well tell her that I’m also looking forward to meeting her, maybe tomorrow? Yes, so young Señor Martínez took me around some of the more dubious clubs of the city after I had dinner with him.”

  “Dinner and then nightclubbing? I leave you alone for two seconds and already I am your second choice, presumably because he’s younger than me?” he teased.

  “Well definitely younger, but not maybe as handsome.” ‘What am I doing?’ thought Lori, ‘Concentrate!’

  Terri looked sideways at her dad. She hadn’t heard what Lori had said, but whatever it was had made him smile. ‘We’re in the middle of a murder investigation and my dad is smitten in love. Ha!’ she thought, ‘Good for him.’

  “Well I’m pleased I scored on at least one of the points. So whilst you were out on the town with your young man,” he felt more assured now having heard her response, “how did you manage to ID someone with the same tattoo?”

 
“I haven’t had so much fun in quite a while. We were trying to get a response from the doormen, to get a look at their left wrists, to see if the tattoo was some sort of sign about being a gang member and we got a success at the third club. Same tattoo and the guy was Armenian. That wasn’t all, but who should I see coming out the back offices but the boss of the OCG, Senichi Sargsyan. He’s known as Sonny. We had a bit of an exchange and I think I got to him as he wasn’t happy when he left,” said Lori.

  “Bloody hell, I hope you were careful Lori? You know as well as I do, these guys don’t mess about, even when it comes to cops,” said Greg.