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Remi glared at the trail. “Don’t worry. This isn’t over. She’s not going to get away with it.”

Sam studied her face and nodded grimly. “I believe you.”

CHAPTER 50

Carol Vanya looked up as her assistant entered her office. The heavyset woman’s face was ashen and her hands shook as she fidgeted. Vanya bit back her annoyance and sighed impatiently. The long day patching up islanders injured in the increasing looting was wearing at her nerves. “Yes, Maggie? I thought I left instructions that I wasn’t to be disturbed.”

“I know, Doctor. I’m sorry. But the police need to talk to you.”

Vanya put down her pen and gave Maggie a withering glare. “Can’t you deal with anything? What do I pay you for?” she snapped irritably.

The police had left a half dozen officers at the hospital to protect it in the latest round of civil unrest driven by the rebel instigators. The impoverished islanders were easy to manipulate into looting, the class anger like dry kindling for her agents’ sparks. The plan was working perfectly: the violence was increasing throughout the day, and by midnight she expected a vote of no confidence in Parliament for the current administration, creating the opportunity for a swift regime change.

“I think you need to see them,” Maggie repeated, obviously shaken.

Vanya stood up behind her desk and was rounding it when the imposing figure of Chief Fleming filled the doorway, his face impassive. Maggie stepped around him and scurried off as Vanya approached him, her professional smile firmly in place.

“Yes, Sebastian? Another emergency?” She was used to charming the chief of police, as she charmed most of the island males, with a combination of flirtation and flattery. She drew closer but stopped at the hardness of his stare. “What is it?”

“You’re under arrest. Turn around. You have the right to remain silent—” Fleming began, the disgust in his voice barely contained as he held up a pair of handcuffs.

“What? Have you gone mad, Sebastian? What is the meaning of this?”

“Turn around. I’m not going to tell you again.”

Her eyes widened and she clamped her mouth shut, her lips a thin line as she submitted to the indignity. She had no idea what had gone wrong, but she was confi

dent she’d be able to talk her way out of whatever the confusion was. She was, after years of thankless public service, one of the most respected figures on the island, with many allies in the government.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Sebastian—”

“I’d keep my mouth closed, if I were you,” Fleming said as he locked the cuffs in place on her wrists and turned her to face the doorway. She gasped, and her vision swam, at the sight of four officers, glowering in the corridor, waiting to take her into custody—and Sam and Remi standing behind them. Her mouth worked like a beached fish, producing nothing but a choking sound, as realization dawned on her.

The two nearest officers pulled her roughly into the hallway. Sam and Remi watched wordlessly, Lazlo by their side. Vanya finally found her voice as she neared them, managing only a single word.

“You . . .”

“Name’s Lazlo. I don’t think we were formally introduced when you were telling your pet killers to murder us,” Lazlo said, his British clipping of each syllable joyous in its precision.

“What’s that old expression about he who laughs last?” Remi asked Sam as the doctor was dragged away.

“Something about laughs best,” Sam replied, watching Vanya’s humiliating final exit from the hospital she’d ruled with absolute authority for years.

Fleming shook his head as he approached. “I have to apologize again. I’m sorry I was so rude in our meeting . . .”

Remi shrugged and took Sam’s hand. “We’ve all been under a lot of stress. Apology accepted.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder at Dr. Berry, waiting in the doorway of one of the exam rooms, and turned his attention back to the police chief. “How’s the crowd control going?”

“Better. The Prime Minister was on the radio a few minutes ago, exposing the bones of Carol’s scheme, alerting the islanders that they had been duped. He didn’t name names, but distress calls from my men have already slowed. I’d expect that our forces will make short work of any remaining looters, once word spreads.”

“And the exhumation of the skeletons?”

“I have two forensic teams at the caves as we speak, but, because of the scope, it will be a while before they’re done and we can begin removing the bones and identifying the remains.” He shook his head in disbelief at the memory from earlier that afternoon when he’d arrived at the scene with two dozen of his top officers, led to the caves by Sam and Remi after they’d barged into his office and confronted him with their evidence. “What kind of a monster could do that . . . ? I still don’t understand any of it.”

“She’s not like you or me,” Remi said. “She’s a sociopath. No sense of right or wrong, only an instinct for manipulation, and a ruthlessness unlike anything you’ve probably ever seen before.”

“Or ever again, if you’re lucky,” Sam said softly. “She’s a serial killer, plain and simple. Perhaps with a more structured mechanism for her killing, but, make no mistake, that’s what you’re dealing with. Someone who has zero compunction or remorse about taking lives.”


Tags: Clive Cussler Fargo Adventures Thriller