Of all the places on the Maine coastline Sower’s group couldn’t have picked a location more fittingly named to their base of operations than Smuggler’s Cove. The criminal organization was suspected of numerous crimes, but mostly trafficking narcotics, workers headed for the sex trade, and illegal weapons. Some of their routes were over the Canadian border, but most of their activities were conducted by sea. With the best will in the world, not to mention unlimited funds and manpower, the Coast Guard couldn’t possibly control the rugged Atlantic seaboard, where there were dozens – if not hundreds – of places where a boat could sneak to port unchallenged. Smuggler’s Cove was of course named for a historical landfall of eighteenth-century ne’er-do-wells, and had nothing to do with Sower’s modern accomplishments. These days it was better known as a vacation and pleasure destination, because of its ruggedly captivating coastline, vistas of open water, and towering lighthouses, where people came to fish, kayak, pleasure cruise, and sail, or to avail themselves of the local amenities. Throughout the region there was a proliferation of hotels, resorts, cabins, and camping facilities, and in line with demand equal numbers of restaurants, diners, and teashops. Tess had visited the area many times over the years.
It was easy to assume that the Greek’s boat was one of hundreds of pleasure craft or trawlers dotted along the coast, but it was a misnomer. It wasn’t a boat or ship, but a structure on a promontory overlooking the cove, designed and erected in the fashion of a rising prow, in keeping with the nautical theme of buildings nearby. In a coastal area where people usually gorged on Maine lobster, Vasilis Katsaros cornered the market on eastern Mediterranean and Aegean cuisine, serving food from his aptly named restaurant, Macedon. Neither was Katsaros a true Greek, he originally hailed from Cyprus, but that was nit-picking.
When Alex had joined them on Deering Avenue, he’d phoned a colleague in the office who owed him a favour, and asked for a list of Sower’s suspected associates. The list was long but only one had a name of Greek extraction, and as soon as he’d shown it to Tess she recognized it. Rather than risk Alex’s career any further, she interrogated the Internet for the further information she required. At first following a false trail, looking for a boat registered to that name, she’d stumbled across the Macedon instead, and everything had fallen in place once she’d brought up an image of it and spotted the nautical theme of the restaurant. Hell, she even remembered eating there four or five years ago while on a date. As she’d dined, she’d no idea of the owner’s involvement in a crime ring, and good job, because it would’ve probably soured her stomach and spoiled her meal of vine leaves stuffed with lamb, garlic, and sautéed onions. Oddly the delicious meal had stuck in her memory in a way her boring date hadn’t, and now she couldn’t say if he was called Will, Bill, or Phil.
‘Smuggler’s Cove is well off my patch,’ Alex had pointed out, ‘but I’m still coming with you.’
‘You could lose your job,’ Tess argued.
‘You could lose your liberty,’ he countered.
‘We could all lose our heads,’ Po added, and it sobered them. But it also clarified what exactly they hoped to achieve, and that was to save the head of another person. Alex advised his dispatcher that he was following up on enquiries, but didn’t specify. With everything else that the Portland PD were dealing with that night, his status update was acknowledged but unchallenged, and he was relying on being lost in the shuffle, and could hopefully go unmissed for an hour or two. If not, well, he could argue that he really was following up on enquiries, just not on a case he was actively engaged in. If everything went to order, he might get away with a stiff reprimand, but if the opposite was true then it didn’t really matter.
To get them quickly to their destination, he took a liberty with his emergency lights, leading the charge over the harbour bridge and through South Portland with Po’s Mustang tight to his tail. Alex was an expert driver, and negotiated the roads at speed, but with care, but Tess could tell that her companion was itching to overtake and show how it should really be done. She caught Po tutting in frustration a few times. ‘Who’s the freaking woodchuck now?’ she demanded, unable to hold in a chuckle.
They followed the aptly named Shore Road, passing Portland Head Light, Chimney Rock, Pond Cove, and other places of local interest until they found a turn off for Smuggler’s Cove. Here wealthy residents kept houses, or summer homes, and it was highly likely that a Portland PD cruiser and souped-up muscle car would draw untoward notice. Alex set his blinkers flashing and pulled off-road, following a dirt track down a slope towards a deserted jetty, alongside which a small pleasure boat was moored. Tess guessed what he was up to, because from the shoreline the Macedon’s glass-fronted prow was visible, rising above the promontory across the bay.
‘A frontal approach probably isn’t wise,’ Alex said as they gathered on the pebble shore.
‘Best we keep a low profile, until we know what we’re up against,’ Po agreed. ‘We should go in on foot, take the beach, and approach from the water. They won’t be watching that way.’
‘Agreed,’ said Alex.
Tess glanced between them, typical men doing all the planning without asking her opinion.
Alex held up a cautioning hand. ‘We scout the place only. We don’t get too close; we just take a look. If we get any hint that Emma’s inside, held against her will, we back off and I call in tactical support. I can get the ESU team here quick-time if need be.’
‘Makes sense,’ Po said, but he gave Tess a subtle wink that anyone who didn’t know him would barely register.
‘We should put our cell phones on silent,’ Tess proposed, ‘but use them to communicate if necessary. I don’t suggest we go in together like this, we should split up.’
‘Po,’ said Alex, ‘can go in alone. But you’re sticking with me, sis.’
‘Who made you the leader?’ she demanded.
He tapped his shiny PD badge. ‘This does. And if that doesn’t work for you, then I’m pulling sibling rank. I’m your big brother, don’t forget.’
Tess opened her mouth, but Po forestalled her. ‘He’s right, Tess. You should stick with him. You can pinpoint Clancy and he can call in the cavalry.’ Po also took a pointed glance at the gun holstered on Alex’s belt. ‘He can also protect you better than I can.’
‘He’s not the only one who can shoot,’ Tess said.
‘I’m the only one with a firearm,’ Alex replied. Then his eyes creased. ‘Oh, don’t tell me …’
Tess withdrew her grandfather’s service revolver.
‘Jesus, what are you doing with that thing?’ Alex cast a disapproving glance at Po, as if the ex-con’s bad influence was already rubbing off on her.
‘Nothing to do with me,’ Po said.
Alex glared at the revolver. But in the end he shook his head. ‘OK. You know how to use that thing; I’ll give you that. But it’s for show only. You do not fire it. Understood?’
‘I hope I won’t need to,’ Tess admitted, but remained noncommittal on his instructions. Her vague promise would have to do because she wasn’t going to stand by and watch while anybody important to her got hurt.
‘OK. Put it away for now. Damn thing’s that old it might blow up in your hand,’ Alex muttered, but he was about done with the subject. He pointed along the shoreline. ‘We’ll head along there; once we’re past those pilings we’ll head up the slope. Po, you OK going further along and up the promontory on the far side of the restaurant?’
‘I’m good with that.’
‘If you spot anyone, or if you’re spotted, get out of there, and try to warn us. Use your phone like Tess suggested: we’ll have ours on vibrate so we know there’s an incoming call.’
Po said nothing.
Taking his silence as agreement, Alex turned to Tess. ‘Same for us, Tess. We see Emma, I’ll call it in. But if we’re spotted you get the hell out of here.’
‘While you do what?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You said I’ve to get the hell out, but what about you?’
‘I show my badge, take things from there.’
‘And you seriously expect them to give up quietly?’
Now Alex said nothing.
But neither did Tess. They all had their instructions, but none of them would abide by the rules. Rules were made to be broken, in this case before they’d even initiated their plan.
It was dark, but an ambient glow was cast from the phosphorous wash of tide, so they kept to the head of the beach to remain invisible. Tess could barely see her companions, so it was unlikely any of them would be spotted. It’d be different once they approached the Macedon, because light spilled from its huge glass walls and on to the promontory it stood abreast. Po must negotiate those pools of light to gain his approach route up the far side of the rocks, and Tess suspected that was why Alex had sent him that way. Nevertheless, she doubted Po would be sighted. She’d jokingly called his garb a ninja costume, but there was value in wearing black on black.
‘Be careful,’ she whispered to him, and touched him gently on the back of his left hand.
‘Don’t worry about me.’ Po loped off, and he was lost among the shadows in seconds. All that pinpointed him was the soft scuff of his boots through loose pebbles, but the sound could be mistaken for the lapping tide. Tess listened a moment longer, and then even that hint of his location vanished.
‘We’ll give him a minute to get in position,’ Alex said close to her ear.
Standing alongside her brother, Tess looked up at the sharp prow of the building rising above them. From their position there was no sign of movement inside, but it was unlikely that Sower’s henchmen would be gathered in the restaurant’s seating area, with Emma Clancy displayed on a platter between them like the ‘special of the day’. If she were there at all – if indeed she were still alive – she would be held out of sight while Sower’s killer completed his work. Did the others have the stomach to watch, or was the mutilation too much even for them? She hoped Jacky Torrance or Welshy would show their faces, because theirs were the only ones she could confidently identify. She now knew of Vasilis Katsaros, and had a vague recollection of his looks from the photo in her file, but there was no proof he was involved, the link to his restaurant being only tenuous until proven otherwise. Concern washed through her; what if she’d brought them to the wrong place? She exhaled, shivering, afraid for Emma if she was wrong. Then again, she was equally afraid for Emma if she was right. But there still remained a trickle of caution running through her. She barely knew the woman, and for all she knew Emma could be as complicit with Sower in the way her boss, Jackson, could prove to be, pulling the strings Sower required to find and eliminate Crawford Wynne. What if Emma had used her, and her brother alike, to get what Sower demanded? If Tess was right and extreme precautions had been taken to cover up Richard Jackson’s collusion with the gang boss, what if Emma’s disappearance was to ensure the same end? But what if, instead of being snatched, Emma had been assisted to disappear? Did Emma need rescuing at all?
‘Are we doing the right thing here?’ she whispered to herself.
Until then Alex had remained silent. Perhaps counting down the minute he’d given Po. But he must’ve heard her doubt, because he patted her on her lower back. ‘C’mon, Tess, we’ll only find out if we go take a look.’
‘How well do you know Emma?’ she asked. ‘Really know her, I mean.’
‘Enough to know it’ll destroy me if anything bad has happened to her.’
That was enough for Tess. ‘Let’s go get her, then.’
Accompanied by a uniformed presence, Tess felt different than when she’d followed Po inside Rutterman Logistics. It was a throwback to the old days, like being a cop again, and as doubt diminished confidence swelled. She trotted alongside Alex, making their way up a sloping footpath used by diners who enjoyed after-dinner strolls on the beach. As they crested the rise and onto the parking lot adjacent to the Macedon they crouched and surveyed the land. A driveway followed the back slope of the promontory, down to a service track that led to Shore Road. There was a number of assorted vehicles parked at the front of the building. The restaurant was closed to the public, so the presence of so many cars spoke volumes. One of the vehicles was a large refrigerated van. Tess and Alex shared a glance. ‘Ideal for transporting a subdued woman in?’ Tess whispered.
‘Or maybe it delivers chilled food to the restaurant,’ Alex cautioned. The presence of a suspicious van wasn’t enough to go on, it didn’t give him probable cause to enter and search the premises.
‘We have to get closer. We have to get a look inside.’ Tess made to rise, but Alex’s hand on her shoulder stalled her.
‘Wait up, sis. We have to think this through. We can’t just sneak inside and hope for the best.’
‘We’ve no option.’
‘I should call in backup. Hell, we need a team here to conduct a full search. We could always claim we received an anonymous tip-off that a woman is being held against her will. But what if we’re wrong and Emma isn’t here? What then?’
‘Listen,’ Tess said to waylay his growing doubt, ‘wasn’t that just a scream?’
There was no scream.
‘Good try, but we need something more.’
‘I’m just trying to cover your ass, Alex. I don’t care about the legality, I just want to get in there.’
Alex remained crouched. His breath whistled in his throat. ‘OK, we get closer. But you don’t go inside unless I allow it.’
Tess shrugged, and before he changed his mind she rushed across the lot and bent low, hiding between two parked cars. A series of scuffs confirmed that Alex had followed, and was close. She checked over her shoulder and found him a few feet away, his face set. ‘You’re supposed to be sticking close to me,’ he whispered, ‘not the other way around.’
She held up a finger. There was a soft buzz against her side. Tess dipped her hand in her purse and brought out her cell, cupping her other hand over the screen to douse the soft glow. It was Po calling.
‘I’ve got eyes on a couple of guys around this side. One of them’s an old pal of ours. Blondie, the guy who put the transponder on the Chicken Shack.’
He meant Kenneth Jones – Welshy – and Tess felt instant vindication for bringing them here.
‘What about Torrance?’
‘No sign of him. No sign of Emma Clancy either, but that’s not to say she isn’t here. Blondie and this other dude have stepped outside for a smoke, but when they came out I heard other voices from inside.’ Po waited. ‘I can get by them. Better still, I can have a quiet word in Blondie’s ear.’
‘Wait, I’d best check with Alex first.’
‘He’s not the boss of me,’ Po said, and she caught the subtle hint in his announcement. On occasion she’d questioned Po’s loyalty, even to a point of fearing he might be working for the opposition, playing her for a fool, but that had never been it. She understood the simple truth from his statement: he was his own man and did things his own way, and conforming to her way of working must have been frustrating for him. He’d trusted her safety to Alex so he could do his thing again – without the hindrance of having to worry about her. Before she could caution him about doing anything rash, Po hung up.
Tess looked at Alex, and he read her expression.
‘Damn it,’ he wheezed. ‘That’s what comes of working with an asshole. You could stick a bunch of flowers in their butt but it doesn’t make them a Ming vase.’
Under any other circumstance Tess would’ve laughed. Not now though. She wondered what the hell Po was about to do, and more than anything she wanted to join him on the far side of the building. She swapped her phone for her grandfather’s revolver.