A Dark and Deadly Journey, page 25
“Are you certain?” he asked.
“We need to if the princess is in danger,” I said.
“Right,” said David. “Carter, you contact Camargo and explain what we’ve told you. See if you can also make arrangements for the princess’s protection without tipping Phillips off that we’re on to him. We’ll go to the Hotel Metrópol and find Luiza. Then we’ll meet back here in an hour and make a plan to grab Phillips at the party.”
“Consider it done,” said Carter.
“Oh, and keep Miss Larkin with you, would you, Carter?” I added.
“Me?” Miss Larkin squeaked.
“I’m afraid we can’t risk word getting back to Phillips that we’re looking for him,” I said.
Miss Larkin began to stammer her objections, but when Carter raised a brow in her direction, she stopped. “Yes, Miss.”
“We should repack the suitcase just in case we’re wrong and Phillips returns for it earlier than we expect,” said Carter.
“I’ll do that,” said David.
“Take Miss Larkin back to her desk with you, would you?” asked Carter. “I just need another moment with Miss Moore.”
“Come along, Miss Larkin,” said David, ushering the disheartened secretary in front of him.
As soon as David shut Phillips’s office door, Carter said, “I should have known that you wouldn’t have canceled our meeting today without good reason. It was stupid of me not to have asked more questions.”
“Phillips has had so many people on a string for so long, I don’t think any of us really stood a chance of seeing what was really going on,” I said.
“You did.”
I smiled. “I had help. What did you want to speak to me about?”
“I think I’ve found your father.”
“Really?” With the excitement about Phillips, I had almost forgotten about Sir Reginald.
“Yesterday evening after the casino, I placed some calls as I promised. This morning, one of my contacts rang me at my flat before I left. He said that a man matching Sir Reginald’s description had been staying at a house in the countryside.”
“Where?” I asked, my heart beating a little faster now.
“A village called Valverde in the Alentejo region. The locals say that a wealthy family owns the house, but they hardly ever visit. That’s why people noticed the Englishman who started coming and going out of the garden’s side gate. The Englishman matched Sir Reginald’s description.
“However, when my contact’s source went around this morning to check if Sir Reginald was still there, the house was shut up,” said Carter, pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket with an address written on it. “I was going to drive up there this afternoon, but then all of this happened.”
“Did you say the village is called Valverde?” I asked.
“Yes, it’s near the city of Évora. Do you know it?”
I nodded. “Princess Petrova told me that she has a house there.”
“Then your father was staying at the princess’s second home this entire time?” asked Carter.
“I doubt it was with her knowledge,” I said. “She told me that, at her last party, someone walked off with a set of keys to her country home. She was convinced it was an accident, but I suspect Sir Reginald may have seized on an opportunity to help himself to them. And now he’s disappeared again.”
“We will find him,” Carter said.
I nodded in agreement. “Just as soon as we catch Phillips.”
THIRTY-NINE
To his credit, David showed great restraint in not asking me about my conversation with Carter until we were on our way to the Hotel Metrópol in what felt like our twentieth taxi of the day.
“What did Carter want to speak to you about?” he asked.
“He thinks he found my father’s trail. One of his contacts got word that someone matching Sir Reginald’s description was seen at a house in the countryside about an hour and a half’s drive out of Lisbon, but by the time the contact went to see for themselves, Sir Reginald was gone.”
“Do you think he fled Portugal?” David asked.
“Not unless he suddenly came into money. I think my mother’s jewels were something of an emergency fund to him. He wouldn’t have tapped them unless he was truly desperate. Given that it took some time for me to read the letter he sent me, I suspect that Sir Reginald has been hard up for money for weeks.
“I wonder too if that means Jessup found himself stuck in London, checking in on Morrison every day as they waited for me to arrive with the tea chest. Jessup probably went to the shop the day I did—before or after I don’t know—saw the state of the place, realized that something had happened to Morrison, and ran. I remember how nervous he seemed at the hotel in Bristol and as we boarded in Whitchurch.”
“If Sir Reginald does prove to be connected to Winn and Jessup as more than just a client, what will you do?” asked David.
“What do you mean?”
“Will you be able to bring your father in?” he asked.
It was the question I had refused to ask myself ever since I’d first made the connection between Winn, Jessup, and Sir Reginald at the bar of the Hotel Metrópol. Finally, I said, “Yes. He is a virtual stranger. That will make it easier.”
“Are you certain?” asked David.
I pursed my lips. “Yes.”
“Even so, let’s hope you won’t need to make that decision,” he said as our taxi pulled up in front of the hotel.
*
Inside the Hotel Metrópol, the manager spotted us from across the lobby and hurried over.
“Mr. Slater, you’ve returned again,” he said with a slight edge to his voice. “So soon.”
“Yes,” said David. “I need to speak with one of your switchboard operators again. Luiza Barbosa.”
The manager’s eyes darted between us. “I’m afraid that will not be possible.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Menina Barbosa is no longer in the employ of the Hotel Metrópol,” he said.
“Since when? She was here this morning,” said David.
“It is a very recent development,” said the manager.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I am not at liberty to share that information—”
A furious scream from the other side of the hotel lobby had every head turning toward the commotion, including mine. Luiza Barbosa was being half led, half dragged out in handcuffs by four uniformed officers, yelling what I could only assume was her innocence in Portuguese as she went. Behind them I could see Camargo wearing a satisfied expression.
“Meu Deus,” muttered the hotel manager.
I could tell the moment the PVDE man spotted David and me as soon as the furrow on his forehead appeared. He clasped his hands behind his back and strode over.
“Menina Moore, why am I not surprised to see you here?” asked Camargo.
“Good afternoon to you too, Capitão,” I said. “I see you’ve taken Luiza Barbosa into custody.”
“Yes. We received an unusual telephone call from an Archibald Carter. I believe he is a friend of yours?”
“He is indeed,” I said.
“He told me that I should arrange for police protection for Princess Petrova. He also mentioned that Menina Barbosa should be questioned in connection to the deaths of Senhor Jessup and Senhor Curzon. He finished this extraordinary call by saying I should speak to you about it, although he did not mention why. The strangest thing about all of this is, we were just on our way to the Hotel Metrópol to arrest Menina Barbosa on a different charge.”
“What is that?” asked David.
“Suspicion of being a German spy. She was found carrying messages to a man named Berndt Köhler. He will be taken into custody and deported as soon as he is found.”
The captain’s lip twitched, and I could be forgiven for thinking that the man almost smiled.
“You will understand why I might have some questions about why a wine buyer and his secretary would have suspicions about Menina Barbosa’s ties to two murders. Not to mention”—Camargo glanced at something over my right shoulder—“an importer. Senhor Carter?”
“Yes,” said Carter, racing up to us out of breath.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I telephoned Camargo’s office and found that he was already on his way. I didn’t want to miss out on the fun,” said Carter.
“Where is Miss Larkin?” asked David.
“I grabbed one of the policemen milling around outside and told him to guard her,” he said.
“I will have to speak to him about taking orders from an Englishman,” said Camargo. “Now will someone explain what this is all about?”
“We believe that the murders of Michael Jessup, Emile Curzon, and a third man in London are all connected to a smuggling ring operating out of this hotel and other locations across Lisbon,” I said, quickly laying out the case for him as it stood.
When I finished, Camargo stared at me for a moment and then said, “You seem to be remarkably well-versed in a case you have claimed to know nothing about until this point.”
“I’m a quick study,” I said.
“And you think Peter Phillips is the man behind all of this?” asked Camargo.
“We do,” I said. “We also believe we can lead you to him so that you and your men may arrest him, but only if we have your agreement that we will work together.”
For a moment, I thought Camargo would shake his head and decide to arrest me, but instead he sighed and rubbed his brow. “This Peter Phillips, he is your supervisor at Albion Imports Corp., Senhor Carter?”
“Yes, sir,” said Carter.
Slowly, Camargo began to nod his head. “Then you should know that we believe Menina Barbosa was recruited by the Abwehr because of her relationship with Peter Phillips.”
“Did she have orders from Köhler to try to turn Phillips?” asked Carter.
“It would seem so,” said Camargo.
“Did she manage it?” I asked.
“We don’t know. Yet,” said Camargo.
“It goes from worse to worse,” muttered Carter, and I could understand why. Everything Phillips had reported wouldn’t just have to be reexamined for accuracy given that his informant was a fabrication. He would now have to be treated as a possible double agent. It would set back our intelligence efforts in Portugal months, and an entirely new structure would have to be put in place to scrub our network clean of his damage.
But that was a concern for later.
“We have reason to believe that Phillips will be at Princess Petrova’s party tonight,” I said.
“I will go,” said Camargo.
“We will go.” When Camargo began to object, I added, “Phillips isn’t aware that Slater, Carter, and I know he and Winn are one and the same. We have a better chance of slipping into the party and finding him without causing a scene that would set off his suspicions. If you bring your officers in and raid the house, he might try to escape into the gardens and we’ll never find him. We need a plan.”
Camargo seemed to mull this over for a moment before finally nodding. “We will go to my office and take two cars. Menina Moore, you may come with me.”
“I’ll be joining you,” said David, taking a step forward so that his left shoulder covered part of me from view.
“David—”
Camargo shrugged. “If you insist, Senhor.”
David glanced over his shoulder at me and gave me a small nod. “I do.”
FORTY
It was eight o’clock and dark by the time that we left Camargo’s office. The PVDE officer drove David and me to Estoril, and Carter took his car with Miss Larkin in the back seat.
We’d spent the time since leaving the Hotel Metrópol recounting what we’d discovered in greater detail, and Camargo’s normally stern expression went from unsmiling to openly furious several times over.
“And how long has this smuggling ring been operating?” he had asked.
“The princess told us she was first approached in June. That would fit with the timeline of Jessup’s more frequent visits to Lisbon,” I said.
“How do you know about Jessup’s trips to Lisbon?” asked Camargo.
“I have friends,” I lied, as I suspected that was not the moment to reveal that the captain had interviewed me on the morning of Jessup’s murder with the man’s diary secreted in the top of my stockings.
“As do I,” said David.
“Do these friends of yours have names?” asked Camargo.
“They do not,” I said gravely.
Then something extraordinary happened. The PVDE captain laughed. It was just a short, sharp bark of a laugh, but there was no mistaking it.
“Now it’s your turn,” I said, taking advantage of the moment. “How did you figure out that Luiza was working for the Germans?”
“I came across her when interrogating the staff at the Hotel Metrópol about Jessup’s murder. Her colleagues were all too happy to tell stories about how she’d been spotted meeting with Köhler or how she always seemed to have money for a new handbag or a lipstick. At first, we thought Köhler was the boyfriend, but after putting them both under surveillance we realized that she was meeting with Köhler and then going to a flat Phillips gave her money to rent in Alfama in the evenings,” said Camargo, neatly tying together our suspicions that Luiza had been the go-between to collect Phillips’s cash all along.
“Then there can be little doubt she was also paying James Winn’s rent. Phillips must have cut her in,” I said.
Camargo had nodded, and then we had gone on to planning our trap.
Now, with the princess’s party well underway, Camargo swung the wheel and steered his car into the drive of the Villa de Pietro.
The approach to the house was full of parked cars, their drivers lingering a few feet away with cigarettes or sitting in the front seat reading their newspapers. Camargo parked at the end and killed the ignition while Carter pulled up behind him.
We all climbed out of our cars except for Miss Larkin, who remained trembling in the back.
“All right, Menina Moore, since you seem to have so many ideas, what is your plan?” Camargo asked, looking through the trees at the lights of the house.
“The house has multiple floors,” I said, “but the princess has told me she intends to confine the party to the public rooms on the ground floor. Then there are the gardens. I think we should split up. Two take the ground floor in case Phillips spots us and slips out, one takes the front garden here, and the fourth takes the back garden.”
“Bom,” Camargo said. “You take the back gardens. Senhor Carter will enter the ground floor. I will go around the back so that I make less of a scene. Senhor Slater, that leaves you with the front of the house.”
“Very good,” said David.
“There are police officers in place on either side of the road, so if Phillips tries to escape on foot or by car, he will be caught,” said Camargo.
“What do we do about Miss Larkin?” I asked. “We can’t risk her leaving the car to alert Phillips.”
Camargo retreated to his car and, a moment later, walked back with a pair of handcuffs dangling from his fingers.
“I’ll do it,” I said, grabbing them. “The poor thing is terrified enough as it is without one of you handcuffing her.”
I opened Miss Larkin’s door, and she shrunk away. It was clear she’d been crying.
“Miss Larkin,” I said in as gentle a voice as I could muster, “I do apologize but I’m going to have to handcuff you to the door.”
“I’m so very sorry! I won’t tell him anything,” she said quickly. “I promise!”
“I’m afraid I must insist. You were his secretary. We can’t risk that you might still be loyal to him. I will give Carter the key, and he will make sure that you’re released as soon as we have Phillips in custody. Would that be okay?”
Her lip trembled but, to her credit, she stuck out her wrist to be handcuffed.
“I promise we will be back to release you as soon as possible,” I said.
With that done, I returned to the men who were waiting for me. I gave the key to Carter.
“Whoever spots Phillips will try to reason with him. Tell him that he is under arrest and the building is surrounded,” said Camargo.
“And in the unlikely event that he tries to run, be prepared,” I said.
“I should add, he may or may not be armed,” warned Carter.
Camargo muttered something under his breath that I suspected might have made me blush if I understood Portuguese profanity.
“Once you see Phillips, make enough noise that the others will hear you,” I said. “Whoever is closest will come running and help.”
“Ready?” David asked.
“Ready,” I said.
We walked up the drive together before Camargo and I broke off to round the side of the house via a small path that led along the top of the cliff. At some point, someone had installed an iron fence to keep residents and guests from straying too close to the dangerous drop.
At the far corner of the building, there were steps up to the veranda. I recalled spotting the gardens sprawling out from the other side, and so I too climbed the steps.
“What do the English say in these moments?” asked Camargo, as we reached the top.
“Good luck,” I said.
He nodded. “Good luck.”
I watched him slip into the party, conspicuous in his uniform. I suspected that even without it he would have stood out as a law enforcement officer for the straightness of his carriage and his rather severe expression. However, the other guests seemed to neither notice nor care as they continued to chat, laugh, and drink.
For my part, I began to weave my way across the wide veranda, checking the figures in the shadows to see if there was anyone familiar. I wondered what all these people would think if they knew that their host was part of a smuggling ring. That she had been blackmailed because of her affairs, and that she had risked her reputation for the sake of maintaining the lifestyle that allowed her to throw these parties. Perhaps they could have understood, knowing that if they had been faced with the same decision, they might have chosen reputation and money over doing the right thing.
