The Kiss after Midnight (The Midnight Trilogy) (34 page)

The brown-haired man approached Juan and smiled.

“You’re American, aren’t you?” the
gobernador
said.

“I sure am,” the man said. He pulled out an FBI badge. “I’m Special Agent Tom Saddle”—he gestured toward the dark-haired man—“and this is Henrik Leitzke of Interpol.”

Juan laughed. “I’ve heard of you. You’re the one who’s been looking into a few of my friends back in the states. Haven’t you guys got anything better to do than follow me across the Atlantic? I’m here visiting some of my old friends, or is that illegal now?”

Tom moved to within inches of Juan. “No, but what is illegal is murder.”

Juan’s eyes widened. He shot a look at Andrés.

“Juan Cabrera,” Tom said formally, “I’m arresting you for the murder of Connor Murray. You have the right to remain silent—”

“What the fuck?” Juan shouted. “You can’t fucking do this. I’m innocent. Where’s your fucking proof?”

Tom nodded at four police officers beside him, and they handcuffed the four men.

“You have no fucking evidence,” Juan shouted. “This is a fucking conspiracy.”

“Wait,” Tom called to the officer taking Juan away. He approached the
gobernador
and whispered in his ear. “I’ve seen the recording. Now, we can make this difficult or you can come without a fight. With any luck, we’ll get you back to the states for trial in one piece.”

Juan glared at the agent and nodded. He was guided into a police van with his men.

***

The sound of police sirens caused a minor frenzy inside the bank. Erwin escorted Tobias toward the front door and held on to his shoulder. “It might be a good idea to wait until everything is finished out there.”

Tobias shook his head. “No. I have to see this.” His back against the wall next to the door, he peered around the corner and saw Juan and his three men being put into the van.
Annabel must have called the police
.
She did that for me
.

“Is that him?” Erwin asked.

“Yes. That’s Juan. I don’t think he killed my grandfather. I looked in his eyes when he told me it wasn’t him, and I believed him.”

Erwin scratched his head. “I’ve been doing some more digging.”

“And?”

“The man beside Juan in the picture with your grandfather and Murray is his right-hand man, Jorge Huerta, a very senior member of The Dominguez Organization and also good friends with your grandfather.”

“Jorge. Jorge. The name’s familiar, but I can’t place it. I don’t remember if Annabel mentioned him either.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s a powerful man in his own right. It’s possible that he could pull off something like this, with or without Juan’s knowledge.”

Tobias looked outside again, where the police cars had begun pulling away. “I suppose that makes a bit more sense.”

“How so?”

“Jorge might have known about Penélope having the recording. I’m not sure Juan did, from the way he was speaking.”

“Or maybe he suspected but wasn’t sure. Either way, men like that take no chances. Murray was proof of that.”

“Maybe,” Tobias muttered almost to himself. “What about Antonio? What did you find out?”

“I don’t believe he knew your grandfather at all. I managed to find some footage with them together a year ago, and they never acknowledged each other, not even once.”

Tobias leaned against the wall and sighed. “I don’t know anymore. Every time we seem to be getting somewhere, we hit this brick wall.”

“There’s something else. I was going through the names of some of the biggest contributors to your grandfather’s charities, and one struck me. I only paid attention because I’ve been seeing him on the television quite a lot recently.”

Tobias took a step forward. “Who is it?”

“The deputy director of the FBI. Ross Wheeler.”

Tobias gasped and placed both hands on his head. “You’re fucking kidding me.” He stared at Erwin. “But what does that mean? Is he involved somehow?”

“It could mean everything or it could mean absolutely nothing. A large number of influential people contributed to your grandfather’s charities. As I said, I only picked up on his name because of all his recent TV appearances since Penelope’s death.”

Tobias shook his head. “This maze just keeps getting thicker and thicker.”

Erwin put a hand on his shoulder. “But we still have the tattooed guy. Find him and we find the killer.”

Tobias nodded. “I’ve got to go. She’ll be waiting for me.”

Erwin grabbed his wrist. “Maybe you don’t.” Tobias glared at him. “Let me just get you out of here, somewhere safe. I can carry out more checks myself. In time, I’ll find the killer. And when the dust begins to clear, you can find your American girl.”

Tobias yanked his arm away. “I’m not leaving her. I’ve already told you that. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.” He grasped Erwin’s shoulder. “Wait for me. I’ll come back once I find her, and then we can disappear.”

“It’s much too dangerous, Siegfried. At least let me come with you. You don’t know if some of these men have caught up with her.”

“No, I have to go alone.” He smiled broadly. “I can take care of myself. She’ll find a way to get a message to me if she’s in trouble.” He squeezed his palms together. “I think I’m in love with this girl. I have to go to her.”

Erwin put a set of keys in his hand. “There’s a black Audi A3 parked a few yards to the left of here. Take it and find her, and when you’re finished call me.” He leaned closer. “Take this.” He slipped a Glock into Tobias’ right hand.

Tobias put the gun in his pocket and embraced Erwin. Then he rushed out of the bank and pulled out his cell. Annabel answered after a few minutes, excitement in her voice. “Oh, baby,” she said. “I was so scared for you.”

“Did you call them?”

“I had to. You didn’t give me a choice. Have you got it?”

“I’m holding the new details in my hand. Where are you?”

“New details?”

“Yeah, they recommended a better bank. It’s okay, the money’s there, one and a half billion dollars. Hold on, honey.” He got into the black A3 and started the engine.

“I love you, Tobias.”

“I love you, too. Now tell me where you are so I can come and get you.”

She was silent for a moment before giving him an address, struggling slightly with the pronunciation. Tobias hung up and drove off.

Tobias sped down the two-lane road, the thought of seeing Annabel again spurring him on. They were so close to freedom. With Erwin agreeing to help, he had no doubt they would be out of the country and on their way to the Caymans in a day, with over a billion dollars waiting.

He counted four police cars heading in the opposite direction before turning off the two-lane street and onto Kennedydamm. He kept looking at his phone, wanting to call Annabel just to make sure she was still okay, but he made himself wait till he saw her.

The urban backdrop of the city steadily gave way to more rural scenery. Large trees thick with leaves lined the now-one-lane road. He kept his eye on the speedometer, careful not to go faster than fifty miles an hour for fear of attracting attention. The GPS said he was three minutes away. His heart beat faster.

He took two left turns in quick succession before arriving at Lohauser Dorfstraße 5. Home to a number of Victorian-style houses, the street was eerily quiet. He took a left onto Huttmannstrabe and slowed to a crawl.

He caught a glimpse of a green Toyota sedan parked on the right side of the road—the first vehicle he had seen in quite a while—and came to a stop. He noticed the silhouettes of people in the front seat but couldn’t be sure whether Annabel was one of them. He called her again, but the phone rang five times before going to voice mail.

He pulled beside the car and saw a young couple arguing. The driver, a man in his early twenties, stared at him for a few seconds before rolling the window down. “Have you got a problem?” he said in German.

Tobias looked past him at the raven-haired woman. She seemed to be in distress. “Are you okay, ma’am?” he asked in German.

The woman nodded, but the man’s glare intensified. “Can you mind your own business?” he said. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Tobias was about to respond when he saw a silver Lexus parked on the next corner with its taillights on. He gave the man a stern look before driving on. He pulled up about five yards behind the Lexus.

He breathed deeply and glanced at his watch. It was nearly 10:30 a.m. He called Annabel once more. The call went to voice mail as before. He suddenly thought of Erwin’s warning. What if someone had already gotten to her? His inheritance was now his, and all he had to do was turn the car around and return to the bank, where Erwin could help him to flee the country.

He thought about all that Annabel had done for him. She certainly wouldn’t desert him, even if it meant her death. He put the sheet of paper with the Cayman bank details in his pocket and took his gun from the glove compartment. After checking the clip, he put it in his other pocket and got out of the car.

As he approached, he could see that the windows of the Lexus were tinted, and then the rear door opened and a gleaming Annabel stepped out. He ran to her with a broad smile on his face and embraced her. She pulled back and kissed him on the lips and stared into his eyes. Her expression was not the joyful one he’d expected to see.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She sniffled as if she had spent the last few minutes crying. “I’m just so happy to see you, that’s all. I can’t believe it’s all gonna be over soon.”

“It’s so good to see you, too.” He glanced at the Lexus. “Whose car is this then?”

Annabel smiled. “It’s our getaway. We can leave today.”

He looked at her with confusion on his face. “I don’t understand.”

“You don’t worry, honey. I’ve taken care of everything.” She held his face with both hands. “We’ve done it. We’ll soon be completely free.”

He looked into her eyes for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “Here it is.” He placed a folded piece of paper in her hands. “It’s all there, one and a half billion.”

Annabel looked at the piece of paper, where two sets of numbers were written, along with the name “Dorinda.” She looked at him in shock. “You used my grandmother’s name.”

“I told you I would. We just need to go there and get it and it will be the start of our new life.”

She embraced him tightly. “You’ve been so good to me,” she said, her voice trembling.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling away from her. “What’s wrong? You’ve been weird since I got here.”

Just then, the driver’s door opened and a tall, heavily built man stepped out. Tattoos covered his arms and parts of his neck and face. Tobias swallowed as he realized who it was. He was the assassin pictured in the video footage of the final minutes of his grandfather’s life, the sniper who had shot the FBI agent who’d had them at gunpoint.
What’s he doing with Annabel? Unless...Fuck.

Tobias’ face shook. He looked at Annabel in shock and reached for his other pocket, but nothing was there. He looked up to see Annabel holding his Glock.
She must have taken it when we hugged. Fuck.
“I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry, Tobias.” Annabel unclipped the gun and threw it to the ground, tears streaming from her face.

Tobias stared at the man. He stood still with his arms folded, his unblinking eyes almost lifeless.
But he’s just the shooter. Who hired him?
Tobias turned back to Annabel and held his hands out. “Why? Have you been playing me all this time? No. This can’t be. Why would you kill your own friend? Why kill my grandfather? Who’re you working for?”

The front passenger door opened and a pair of feet in glossy black Gucci shoes appeared on the pavement. Tobias took a step back and then another. The man stuck his head out of the car, stood up and smiled at Tobias.

The man was built like an ox, with dark hair and dark skin. He looked different from the pictures on TV, though the tattoo of a bull on his neck was as prominent as ever. Tobias shuddered and stared at Annabel again, this time with a tear in his eye. Then he turned back to the man in front of him, Antonio Cabrera.

Antonio took a step forward, and Tobias took a step backward. “So we finally meet, Mr. Mead, or is that Mr. Eichelberger?”

Tobias glared at him for a moment before looking back at the tattooed man.

“Oh yes, you two haven’t met yet,” Antonio said. He gestured for the assassin to move closer. “Tobias, meet Irish. Irish, meet Tobias.” He sniggered.

***

Tiredness had crept up on Rico. The car’s digital clock said it was 4:40 a.m. He had been sitting in the same spot since 8:30 p.m., aside from taking a few comfort breaks—on the sidewalk—and the occasional private phone call he’d needed to make. Fernando still slept beside him, his snoring perhaps the only thing keeping him awake.

He reached for his cigarettes and found that he had only one left. He rolled the window down and lit it. As he took a long drag, he noticed Fernando stirring in his seat. He fidgeted for a moment before opening his eyes and raising the back of his seat. “How long have I been out?”

Rico smiled as he took another pull on the cigarette. “A pretty long time, my friend. Look at the time.”

Fernando looked at the clock and nearly jumped out of his seat. “Holy crap. It’s nearly 5.”

“It sure is.”

“Nothing yet?”

Rico shook his head, but just then they heard laughter and the creaking of a door a few yards ahead.

“Well, what do we have here?” Fernando said.

Rico threw his cigarette out the window and picked up his shotgun.

***

Jorge staggered to the front of the restaurant, stopping frequently to kiss both girls hanging on his shoulders. Four more girls walked ahead of him, while Rodrigo trailed behind with the last of the girls. Jorge couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so drunk and generally frowned on that kind of behavior, but in light of the deal they had just secured with Hector, he’d believed an exception could be made.

Alejandro had brought a steady flow of Champagne while the girls lap-danced in the nude before performing whatever sexual acts the men desired.