Cold Grave (39 page)

‘You are in so much trouble.’ He picked her up from behind, trapping both arms by her sides. She wiggled, still laughing as he carried her inside to the downstairs bathroom. They could have been teenagers again.

‘You asked for it, Annie.’

‘You wouldn’t.’ She struggled. ‘You were already wet,’ she managed between chuckles. She was fully clothed. There was no escape. Seconds later they were in the shower cubicle with the water full blast.

She squealed with the cold shock. Martin had his arms around her, keeping her in position as her T-shirt and jeans became saturated. In a pitiful attempt at revenge, she tried to catch water in her hands and throw it in his direction. She turned and looked to see his reaction and felt his breath on her face. His eyes were wide and focused. It was the same look he used to get when they made love. She felt his warm hands slide to her hips, pulling her to him. When their lower bodies touched, it was electric.

‘What are we doing?’

‘Don’t think, Annie.’

‘This isn’t . . .’ He brushed her mouth with his. ‘Supposed to happen,’ she mumbled. Her mind was a jumble.

He kissed her gently and nuzzled her cheek. Water flowed around them. They paused, foreheads touching. She could feel her heart pounding as she met his mouth. At first tentatively, then passionately, savouring the chlorine on his lips. He peeled off her shirt and unclipped the back of her bra, sliding the straps off her shoulders, one at a time. His mouth caressed her neck, firing every nerve cell. She arched her back as his soft hands and mouth cupped her naked breasts. She gasped.

‘What about protection?’ He pulled back. She had bought condoms in New York. She grabbed one from the toiletries bag.

He pushed her gently against the wall and his fingers traced a line down her abdomen, circling above the tops of her jeans. Teasing. She kissed him harder and lowered his board shorts.

For the first time in years, she wanted to lose control.

40

After showering, Martin kissed her head.

‘I’ll leave you to dry off,’ he said tenderly, and closed the door behind him.

She stared in the mirror, trying to understand what had just happened. They were away from everyone who knew them. Martin had broken up with Nita. They hadn’t even had a chance to discuss how he felt about it. She combed the knots out of her hair. There was nothing binding her to Ethan Rye. He hadn’t even emailed. Maybe it was just comforting sex for Martin. They had been reminiscing and were relaxed in each other’s company. It had been natural, unforced, and she had forgotten how good it felt to be touched, and loved by a man. She wrapped herself in a towel and headed upstairs, her face still flushed and warm.

‘Forever Young’ played on the CD.

Once dressed, she headed back down. Martin was dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, standing at the table examining photos.

‘We need to talk to Rachel. If someone got rid of Mishka, they could already know about the cousins’ involvement in ESOW.’

Martin slipped on sneakers. Anya collected up the papers and placed them back in the bag. ‘After you.’ He held open the door. They took the elevator and followed the corridor along to the medical centre in an awkward silence.

‘Hey you two. Good timing,’ Karen said. ‘We’ve just ending a busy clinic with a poor old man passing away in his cabin.’

‘What happened?’ Anya wanted to know.

‘He was eighty-eight, one of our regulars. Metastatic prostate cancer and pneumonia took hold. He refused treatment in the end. His wife was with him and it’s what they wanted.’

Paco arrived with his trolley.

‘Ah, the good coffee’s here. Can I get you one?’

‘Actually, we’re looking for Rachel.’

Karen frowned and led them inside the reception area. ‘I don’t know what’s going on. She’s been a nervous wreck. Last night, I found her about to inject the wrong medication into Carlos’s drip. There’s a big difference between local anaesthetic and antibiotics. I had to fill out an incident report which has gone to security and the captain. It took FitzHarris less than an hour to storm down here and confine her to her cabin until further notice.’

Anya held the bag’s contents tighter.

‘What the hell is going on? Is she on drugs? And why am I being kept out of the loop? I am supposed to be responsible for my staff . . .’

‘I’m sorry.’ Her thoughts raced. Did FitzHarris lock Rachel in her cabin to protect patients, or for another reason? He could have assumed she was trying to harm Carlos, or maybe he had discovered her ties to ESOW. ‘I can’t answer why Fitz reacted the way he did.’

Karen touched her hand. ‘I’m not asking for personal details and don’t want to break any professional confidence. It’s pretty clear, Rachel is in serious trouble.’

The nurse locked eyes with Anya, who clutched the bag of documents in both hands. She glanced at a frowning Martin, who nodded. ‘We can’t do this on our own.’

‘Fine. Anything we tell you has to be in the strictest confidence.’

‘I don’t have a problem with that. Something tells me I need to brace myself.’ She got three coffees from Paco’s trolley and led the way into a consulting room. Before closing the door, she flipped a sign over: ‘Consultation in Progress’.

Anya decided she had to trust Karen completely. Mishka’s life could still depend on it. She sat in a consulting chair and told Karen all she knew about Rachel, Mishka, Nuala and the environmental group Lars Anderson had funded for the women.

Karen sat opposite Anya, listening intently. ‘The poor thing is scared to death. No wonder. The police are talking about arrests in the Anderson bombing. That explains why FitzHarris was on the rampage.’

The phone rang and Karen excused herself to answer. ‘She’s standing right here,’ she stammered, looking at Anya. ‘That’s impossible.’

Anya took the phone. FitzHarris was on the line. ‘I want you all down in the morgue now!’

His tone disturbed her. ‘Why? What’s going on?’

‘You’ll see when you get here!’

Karen, Martin and Anya took the same lift the Chans had used when they went to identify Lilly’s body.

The morgue door was open and FitzHarris barked into his phone, ‘I’ll call you back.’ He hung up, perspiration under the arms of his shirt and on his brow.

‘Something’s turned up. The nurse brought the old man’s body down here and opened up the second drawer. But guess what he found? It was already occupied.’

Lilly was in the top compartment. Anya wondered if Rachel’s cousin had been hiding in the other drawer.

‘Any idea who this is?’ Fitz moved toward the drawer.

Anya took a breath. Karen and Martin kept their heads bowed.

He slid open the drawer and peeled off a covering sheet. A woman’s body lay in front of them. Anya instantly recognised it.

‘That’s her,’ she admitted. ‘The woman who pretended to be Nuala. Her real name is Mishka.’ Anya immediately thought of Rachel.

‘You asked Gus Berry about a woman. I checked. There’s no Mishka on the manifesto.’ Fitz’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘Any chance you can explain to me how someone you happened to meet, who officially doesn’t exist, just happens to turn up dead in the morgue?’

41

Anya handed Martin the document bag and moved over to the body. It was clad in a pair of navy overalls and the woman’s brown hair was pulled into a short ponytail, most of it still within the elastic tie. The body was damp, and reeked like a stagnant pond.

‘That’s rancid.’ Martin covered his mouth and nose. ‘What is it?”

‘That’s what I want to know.’ Fitz said. ‘Karen, have you ever seen this woman?’

The senior nurse shook her head.

Anya stepped forward. ‘Mishka Valencia was a member of the environmental group, ESOW.’ It was possible Rachel had murdered her and the search had been an act. Maybe she had intended to kill Carlos by injecting anaesthetic. It would have eliminated both connections to her. They had assumed the shooter was a man, but there was no reason it couldn’t be a woman. ‘Rachel was hiding Mishka, in her own cabin. She said they were cousins.’

‘And it didn’t occur to you to mention any of this?’ The vessels in his neck bulged.

‘They were working for Lars Anderson. He put together a damning report on the environmental damage the company was doing. I didn’t believe they had anything to do with the bombing of the boat. They were terrified that they’d been set up and had no idea by whom.’ Anya realised how ridiculous it must have sounded. Maybe Rachel and Mishka had used Lars Anderson, and things had gone wrong.

‘And you know all this because?’ Fitz paced, hands on his hips.

‘Lars Anderson wrote a report his father and brother were supposed to discuss the night the yacht was destroyed.’

Martin held the bag up for Fitz to see. He moved over, unzipped it and dug through the contents. ‘It’s full of papers.’

‘They were hidden by Mishka in the change-room lockers at the spa.’

‘Right. I want Martin and Karen upstairs. Wait for me in the medical centre. Do not go anywhere or call anyone. Unless there are any other bodies you’ve forgotten to mention before I phone Captain Burghoff?’

Before leaving, Karen located a couple of breathing masks, and handed plastic gowns and gloves to Anya and Fitz, which they put on. Her expression was solemn.

Martin brushed Anya’s back. ‘Will you be all right?’

Anya assured him. ‘I want to know what happened as much as anyone. None of this makes any sense.’

They left and closed the door behind them.

‘I can’t tell you how angry I am,’ FitzHarris announced.

‘Don’t bother. You have no right to be sanctimonious. I heard you’ve locked Rachel up. The way you intimidated her about the records from the night Nuala McKenny died was reprehensible. Why would I trust you?’

‘I did what?’ His nostrils flared and top lip narrowed. ‘I intimidated her? That takes the cake. I was following up what you said, if you want the truth. I thought it was odd there was no documentation if there was in fact an alleged assault. Every move the medical team makes is recorded in triplicate. And those comments about Nuala’s work being below par, one of them was signed after she disappeared. It was handwritten, but the date was pretty clear and had been changed. Someone wanted to distort the circumstances around her death. The supervisor who signed the assessment suddenly got an all-expenses paid vacation in an “employee of the month” prize. Turns out it was the only month it was ever offered. More than a coincidence, I assume. I demanded Rachel tell me the truth about the assault.’

Anya felt an ache in her gut. She had misjudged FitzHarris. He had tried to do the right thing as much as she had. ‘So, like me, you think the company will do anything to keep these cases from going public.’

He drew a deep breath. ‘From what I can tell, in an alleged sexual assault involving a crew member, the accused is immediately flown back to his home country without ever being interviewed by police. By the time anyone decides to investigate, potential witnesses are long gone and crew have been moved on. They’re instructed that they are under no obligation to leave their duties to answer police questions.’

He looked at the body. ‘Any indicators as to how or when she died?’

Anya began with the face and neck. There were no ligature marks or bruises. Palpating the head, there was no obvious sign of fracture, laceration or bruising.

Anya moved the sheet down, exposing the hands. The fingertips had a typical ‘washerwoman’ appearance. ‘She’s been immersed in water, I’d estimate somewhere between twenty and fifty minutes.’

‘How can you be sure?’

Anya lifted Mishka’s hands. Unlike Lilly Chan, this woman had small, short fingers. A diamond solitaire in white gold sat on her right ring finger. ‘She’s been in water long enough for the fingertips to wrinkle, but not so long to affect the rest of the fingers and hands. It doesn’t tell us, though, whether she was dead or alive when she entered the water.’

She eased the ring off and handed it to FitzHarris’s gloved hand. He held it to the light. ‘It’s engraved inside.’ He bent down to his kitbag and removed a magnifying glass.

‘There’s an inscription. “In appreciation. L.A.” Didn’t you just say she was—’

‘Working for Lars Anderson.’ Rachel’s story was adding up. She obviously had good reason to be worried about her wellbeing after the attack on the Andersons’ yacht.