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A Dangerous Arrangement Page 4
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Dean Logan drummed his fingers on the tabletop. ‘Expensive instrument to take on a cruise. Why not bring a cheaper one?’
‘It’s all about the tone, Mr Logan, though I wouldn’t expect you to understand.’
To her surprise, his eyes flashed with amusement and the corners of his mouth twitched. ‘Well, if it’s not U2 or Bon Jovi, I wouldn’t know.’
Marina lowered her gaze, shying away from those glimpses of personality that reminded her of the man she’d been chatting to in the gondola before he revealed his identity.
Someone coughed.
Rask.
‘Mr Logan’s question is reasonable. Why go to all that expense when you could have brought a cheaper violin with you.’
Marina sighed and lifted her handbag onto her lap. God she hated dealing with non-musical people.
‘Stradivarius is an Italian violin, constructed from a dense Croatian maple which gives it its unique sound. The best luthier’s reside in this country, where the instrument was constructed. I arranged to have the violin serviced the day I arrived.’ She took a receipt from her bag and put it on the table.
Dean reached for the docket, skimming it towards him like a card shark about to inspect his final hand. Thick lashes cast shadows on his cheekbones as he scanned the receipt.
‘It’s authentic,’ he said, for the benefit of the others.
There was another silence, a rustle of paper. Then Rask spoke again. ‘Ms Wentworth, when did you first meet Victor Yu?’
‘Six months ago when I advertised the room to let.’ She could have used the extra space herself, but she needed the money. ‘I didn’t ask him for a character reference.’
‘Maybe you should have,’ he shot back. ‘What is your relationship?’
‘Excuse me?’ Marina sat straighter in the chair.
‘What is your relationship with Victor Yu?’
‘I don’t have one.’ Marina glared at Dean Logan as if he’d asked the question. ‘We don’t interact much. He’s a big gamer, very introverted. He buys take-out every night and eats it in his bedroom while he plays computer games.’
‘What do you know about him?’ asked Dean.
‘I know he’s from Taipei and he works for your company. He always pays his rent on time—with cash.’
She took her phone from her pocket and laid it on the table beside Dean Logan’s. She knew she was being defensive, but she was innocent. Surely they would see that soon. ‘His number is in my contacts. Call him.’
Dean’s gaze lowered to the phone then drifted back to her face. ‘It’s disconnected.’
Marina closed her eyes for a second and expelled a breath. She should have known.
‘Ms Wentworth.’ It was Detective Mooney again. ‘What about family or friends? Did anyone ever visit the apartment?’
‘I never saw anyone. He struck me as a loner.’
‘Something’s bothering me.’ Dean laced his fingers together and rested his elbows on the table. ‘The lady looking after your cat said you were travelling north to Port Douglas. Why did you lie?’
A cold chill slipped down Marina’s spine. She’d forgotten about Mrs McCarthy. ‘I didn’t. I was planning on going north. This opportunity came up at short notice. I didn’t see any reason to seek her out just to tell her my destination had changed. I’d already left cat food with her.’
He said nothing, though his expression remained unconvinced.
Marina gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I was practising. The cellist forwarded me the scores so I had some idea of what we would be playing. I had to repack my suitcase and make arrangements for the Strad to be serviced. A friend who’s a travel agent booked everything for me.’
‘And it never crossed your mind to tell your neighbour you were leaving the country?’
Marina rolled her eyes. The man was like a dog with a bone. ‘I wasn’t going to be away any longer than I’d originally planned. And Mrs McCarthy’s a busybody. I didn’t want to go into details.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Why not share your exciting news with the kind neighbour looking after your cat? She’d understand why you’d jump at such an opportunity.’
No, she wouldn’t.
Nor would anyone else.
A gig on a cruise ship was regarded as a step above playing in a pub. Arm the old boys’ network with that kind of ammunition and they’d be on a hunt to find out why.
Marina’s mind raced. These three men had learned a lot about her since last Friday, but not everything. To them, she was Marina Wentworth, a regular violin teacher who’d landed the holiday gig of a lifetime. Discovering her alter ego wouldn’t help them sort out their mess any quicker, though it could harm her in a big way.
‘Mr Logan.’ Marina smiled sweetly, like she did when she took a bow. ‘My reasons for taking this gig are extremely personal.’
She maintained eye contact and let her words hang in the air. ‘They are not Mrs McCarthy’s concern, and they definitely do not have anything to do with your investigations into Victor. In fact, I only informed my sister in Boston a few hours ago that I was on tour.’
She wouldn’t lie, but she had to find a way to get these guys off her back. ‘I’m sure you’ll appreciate that where I go, and with whom, is entirely my business.’
***
A love interest!
Right then, everything about Marina Wentworth’s demeanour cried passion, from the indignant pink rising in her cheeks to the ‘back off’ expression glittering in her eyes.
‘Your private reasons for boarding the love boat are of no interest to me.’ Dean shifted in his chair and shut down the voice in his head shouting ‘lucky bastard’.
She’d handled their questioning well, and who could blame her for being defensive. They were practically accusing her of consorting with Victor Yu. But now, she’d drawn a line in the sand.
‘Ms Wentworth’s been very helpful,’ he said, for the benefit of Rask and Mooney. ‘She’s saved me a lot of time by agreeing to this private discussion when she could have demanded we go down to the police station.’
The others were sure to have been put off by her haughty tone, but Dean had gained a small insight into her personality before he’d admitted who he was, before she’d raised her defences.
Yes, Marina Wentworth was an interesting mix. There’d been a quiet reflectiveness about her on the dock, fear and vulnerability when she’d stepped into the gondola, warmth and humour when he sat down on her hand.
And now, even though he suspected she was holding something back, his gut told him she was telling the truth.
Mooney cleared his throat. ‘Thank you for your time. If you recall anything about him, any little detail, please call, no matter how inconsequential you think it might be. There are dead spots in the ocean, so we will be making arrangements with the cruise line for you to access the satphone. Likewise, we will contact you by those means if we can’t raise you on your mobile. Your neighbour could only give us your landline number, so if you’d leave your mobile number with Mr Logan that would be helpful. Also, please contact me when you re-enter the country so I can take a formal statement.’
‘Just a moment,’ Marina said. ‘I’ve been sitting here answering question after question like a schoolgirl, and you haven’t told me how you got a copy of my itinerary.’
‘It was on the desktop computer in your bedroom.’ Mooney’s voice broke up as it crackled down the line. ‘The fraud squad looked at it. It wasn’t password protected.’
‘There’s nothing on it, only the sheet music I give to my students.’
‘A copy of your itinerary was sitting in your email.’
She shook her head like his words didn’t make sense. ‘That can’t be right. I only use that old email address for corresponding with my students. The itinerary was sent to my regular email, the one on my laptop and phone.’
Before Dean could reply, Rask jumped in. ‘Did you print the itinerary?’
‘No.’
‘Did Yu
have access to your laptop while you were out of the apartment?’
‘Of course. It’s not strapped to me twenty-four hours a day.’
Dean leaned back in the chair and watched on with interest. She was like the ocean, one moment calm, serene and cooperative, the next angry, defensive and unpredictable. He’d expected fury from her when she’d learned her apartment had been searched. But she’d been reasonable, like she understood it was warranted.
Or did she have bigger things on her mind?
‘What are you saying?’ She was glaring at the phone as if it were Rask. ‘That Victor hacked into my laptop?’
Yes, she was a moving canvas of emotion, and right now there was worry in her expressive eyes. It made Dean wonder what was on that laptop.
‘I think what we’re looking at here is your flatmate’s attempts to use you as a decoy,’ Rask was saying. ‘The itinerary hit your inbox the day before you flew out. It could have prompted him to make his move.’
‘So, you don’t think he’s trying to frame me?’
‘Not in the true sense. Most likely we’re doing exactly as he planned. Following the trail he left for us.’
‘I’d have to agree. I think he’s hacked into her laptop and found the itinerary.’ It was Mooney, speaking about Marina rather than to her. ‘He’s discovered her change of plans and noticed she had two seats booked. He’s done his dirty work and split the same day, knowing the first thing we’d do is search his place of abode. He’s forwarded the itinerary to the desktop computer for us to find.’
‘Shit, he could be anywhere in the world by now. ‘ Dean stood, unable to sit any longer. ‘Any luck with the photographs, Rask?’
‘We’ve obtained a few snaps from the staff, mainly taken at the pub. Mostly he’s half hidden behind other people, or they’ve caught him in profile. The best shot we have is still the one on his file.’
Dean looked at Marina. ‘Do you have any photographs of Yu?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
He thought for a minute, then blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Look, you may as well go, unless you can think of anything else.’
She looked surprised and relieved at the same time.
‘I only wish I knew more.’
He nodded. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’
He spoke to the other two while Marina began gathering up her coat and bag.
‘Stay on the line, will you?’
There were murmurs of agreement from the other end as he took one of the hotel notepads and scribbled down his mobile number, the number of his Sydney office, and the satellite phone on the Orion. Then he passed Marina the pen, trying not to look at how the white jeans moulded to her behind as she bent over the table and jotted down her number.
As she straightened, Dean walked ahead and opened the door. He followed her out into the corridor, leaving the door slightly ajar. He remembered what it was like to be pumped for information by the police, have them peer into every corner of your life.
He took a deep breath. If he wanted to keep this American lady on side he had to personalise this. Apart from his office staff, she was his only link to Victor Yu.
‘Logan’s employ just under fifty people. Without a yacht to build, there’s no company. The Mach V would have kept the business going for the next twelve to eighteen months. It will take me that long to design another yacht.’ He paused, dreading the thought. ‘You can understand where I’m going with this, can’t you?’
‘Of course.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘You can’t keep fifty people on your payroll for eighteen months if there’s nothing to build.’
‘Exactly.’
He slapped a hand against his chest. ‘I can start again. I don’t want to, but I can survive eighteen months out of the industry. Some of my employees can’t.’
He lowered his hand and let it rest on his hip. He couldn’t voice the words, couldn’t bring himself to ask her for outright help.
He didn’t need to.
She gave a sympathetic nod and looked him right in the eye. ‘I’ll think about the last six months. If anything comes to mind, I promise I’ll call you right away.’
He let go of a breath. That was the best he could hope for. ‘Thank you, Marina.’
‘There was one thing I was wondering about.’ Her brow furrowed in concentration. ‘Wouldn’t you have lodged a patent for the yacht design?’
Dean gave a rueful smile. He wished it were that simple. ‘A new yacht can have hundreds of patents for each unique part. We do hour upon hour of testing after the vessel’s built to make sure everything works as it should, before we lodge our patents. No one patent covers the entire yacht.’
‘Oh.’ She nodded her understanding. ‘It was just something that crossed my mind, that’s all.’
‘That’s fine.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s a reasonable enough question.’
She handed him the piece of paper with her phone number written on it and looked him straight in the eye. ‘I’m really sorry this has happened to you.’
Her words were simple.
Powerful.
An echo of Rask twenty years ago.
Chapter Six
Lake Zurich, Switzerland
Li kept his eyes on the bevy of swans paddling on the lake and methodically ate the cheese and crusty bread he’d bought at the pop-up market on the bridge. Hunched over, a black backpack between his feet, he waited for the big man.
Ten minutes later a shadow fell across the grass, and then the man sat down beside him with a grunt.
Li didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge him, just continued to tear off small pieces of bread and drag them through the soft cheese.
Minutes passed.
Li chewed and searched the area from behind his dark glasses.
Finally convinced the big man was alone, he took off his cap. Turning it in his hands, he made sure the guy had time to see the ‘Ping’ logo before he returned it to his head, this time with the brim facing backwards.
‘You removed every copy?’ The big guy puffed a little as he spoke. ‘There’s no way Logan can retrieve the designs?’
‘I gave you my assurance. Data-destroying worms have wiped everything. The designs no longer exist. If Logan wants to keep going, he’ll have to start from scratch.’
‘Good.’ The man passed him a sheet of paper. ‘It’s all there. One million in your account.’
Li memorised the account number in seconds, then folded the paper and zipped it into the pocket of his jacket. ‘You must want this bad.’
‘I’ve already spent a billion.’ The big man got noisily to his feet. ‘What’s another mil?’
Li watched as he moved off, weaving between the market stalls with a wide-legged gait. Only when he crossed the bridge onto the left bank did Li take off the cap and shove it inside his backpack.
He’d done his job. Brought Logan to his knees like the big man wanted. The brilliant engineer would be in damage control, reeling, back in Sydney for sure.
And Marina?
An image of his beautiful flatmate formed in Li’s mind. From his backpack, he took out the new pre-paid he’d bought at the airport. He connected to the internet, accessed his cloud and downloaded a copy of her itinerary.
Dean Logan would have used his considerable influence to mobilise the Italian Police. Had they already knocked on Marina’s door and questioned her about her flatmate’s activities? She would have told them everything she knew about him—which was precisely nothing.
Li smirked, imagining her shock. She must know by now that he’d hacked into her laptop and was now in possession of all the other fascinating information she had stored on there.
He stared at the solitary name in his contacts list then put the phone away. It was too soon to call. There would be a market for Logan’s designs, and Li intended to make the most of the opportunity. With luck, he’d pick up another half mil from the sale. After all, business was business.
But first, he had to purchase a f
light to Italy.
Marina.
He knew everything about her.
And the big man was a fool to have trusted him.
Chapter Seven
‘Pass me the Strad, Marina.’
Marina handed the violin to Eli, then watched as he stacked the instruments in the heavy-duty storage locker they’d been assigned. Once everything was stowed, he closed the metal door, spun the combination lock and brushed off his hands.
‘Done.’
It was their second night aboard, and Marina couldn’t believe how well everything was going. Her cabin was above the waterline, something she’d been worried about, and her wrist had stood up to one high tea performance and two cocktail parties.
So far so good.
Harmon rubbed his hands together. ‘Let’s go to the bar. I’m up to number eleven on that beer list I’m working my way through.’
‘I’m up for it,’ said Vlad. ‘When Elena’s on board I have to behave myself.’
Harmon clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I didn’t want to say anything, but she’s really got you pussy-whipped.’
Marina laughed. ‘I don’t want to be the party pooper here, but you know what I have to do.’
The twins hadn’t known about her RSI in Venice, but she’d told them before their first performance. She didn’t have an option. Eli had to be told he was to take over her part if she gave him the signal.
‘Don’t do it, Marina,’ warned Harmon.
‘Do what?’
‘Bang that waiter who’s got the hots for you.’
‘Shut up.’ Eli clipped his brother across the back of the head.
‘I’m going.’ Marina looked down at her long black skirt. ‘You three only have to take off a bow tie. Try walking around this tub in a full length skirt.’
Harmon’s expression turned scandalised and he gestured to the space around them. ‘Did you refer to this luxury liner as a tub?’
Vlad grinned. ‘All boats are tubs according to Marina. She has an aversion to water.’
‘I’m guessing now’s not a good time to mention the Titanic?’
‘Nope.’ Marina gathered the skirt material in her hands and lifted it so the hem was a few centimetres off the ground. ‘This is one violinist who will not be playing as the ship goes down.’