Swimsuit - James Patterson [21]
There was a man in the video, his back to the camera, and when he half turned, one of the Alliance members said, “Henri.”
Henri was naked, sitting on the edge of the tub, the clear plastic mask obscuring his features. He spoke to the camera. “You see there is very little water, but enough. I don’t know which is more lethal for Rosa. Whether she will choke or if she will drown. Let’s watch and see.”
Henri turned and spoke in Spanish to the sobbing child, then translated for the camera. “I told Rosa to keep her legs pulled back toward her head. I said if she could do that for another hour, I would let her live. Maybe.”
Horst smiled at Henri’s audacity, the way he stroked the back of the child’s head, soothing her, but she cried out, clearly a great effort when she was so tired of trying to live.
“Por favor. Déjame marchar. Eres malvado.”
Henri spoke to the camera. “She says to let her go. That I am evil. Well. I love her anyway. Sweet child.”
The girl continued to sob, gasping for air every time her legs relaxed and the rope tightened around her throat. She wailed, “Mama.” Then her head dropped, her final exhalation causing bubbles to break the surface of the water.
Henri touched the side of her neck and shrugged. “It was the ropes,” he said. “Anyway, she committed suicide. A beautiful tragedy. Just what I promised.”
He was smiling when the video faded to black.
Gina spoke now, indignant. “Horst, this is in violation of his contract, yes?”
“Actually, Henri’s contract only says he cannot take work that would prevent him from fulfilling his obligations to us.”
“So. He is not technically in violation. He is just freelancing.”
Jan’s voice came over the speakers. “Yes. You see how Henri looks for ways to give us the finger? This is unacceptable.”
Raphael broke in. “Okay, he is difficult, but let’s admit, Henri has his genius. We should work with him. Give him a new contract.”
“That says what, for example?”
“Henri has been making short films for us like the one we just saw. I suggest we have him make… a documentary.”
Jan jumped in, excited. “Very good, Rafi. Wall-to-wall with Henri. A year in the life, ja? Salary and bonuses commensurate with the quality of the action.”
“Exactly. And he’s exclusive to us,” said Raphael. “He starts now, on location with the parents of the swimsuit girl.”
The Alliance discussed terms, and they put some teeth into the contract, penalties for failure to perform. That phrase provided a light moment, and then, after they had voted, Horst made the call to Hawaii.
Chapter 26
THE McDANIELSES AND I were still in the Typhoon Bar as dusk dropped over the island. For the past hour, Barbara had sweated me like a pro. When she was satisfied that I was an okay guy, she brought me into her family’s lives with her passion and a natural gift for storytelling that I wouldn’t have expected from a high school math and science teacher.
Levon could barely string two sentences together. He wasn’t inarticulate. He just wasn’t with us. I read him as choked up with fear and too anxious about his daughter to concentrate. But he expressed himself vividly with his body language, tightening his fists, turning away when tears welled up, frequently taking off his glasses and pressing his palms over his eyes.
I’d asked Barbara, “How did you learn that Kim was missing?”
At that, Levon’s cell phone rang. He looked at the faceplate and walked away toward the elevator.
I heard him say, “Lieutenant Jackson? Not tonight? Why not?” After a pause, he said, “Okay. Eight a.m.”
“Sounds like we have a date with the police in the morning. Come with us,” Barbara said. She took my phone number, patted my hand. And then, she kissed my cheek.
I said good night to Barbara, then ordered another club soda, no lime, no ice. I sat in a comfortable chair overlooking the hundred-million-dollar view, and in the next fifteen minutes the atmosphere at the Typhoon Bar picked up considerably.