I handed Parker Torquil’s PDA. He’d seen the boy using it in the limo on the way to the charity auction, so he didn’t waste time asking whose it was. Instead, he scrolled through the menu and opened up the in-box, just as I had done as soon as I’d got back to the house.
And there was the message, clearly identifying Dina – or her email address – as the sender.
‘
‘Looks kinda clear to me,’ Parker said. He glanced at me with a cool assessing gaze. ‘But you have doubts.’
‘I was with Dina all morning. She never had a chance to send an email, either from her laptop or her cellphone.’
‘You sure? It doesn’t take more than a half minute.’
I remembered again her shock when Torquil first appeared. If she’d been expecting him – expecting anyone – she was a far better actress than I’d given her credit for. Even if she’d been able to conceal her genuine reaction from me, Cerdo would have known.
‘I’m sure,’ I said. ‘But I can appreciate this raises questions. Like, if she didn’t send it, who did?’ I watched him hesitate. ‘My job is to protect her, Parker. Just how far am I supposed to go in order to do that?’
Parker was silent for a moment, eyes on the rolling breakers although I was pretty sure he didn’t see anything of the view outside the windows.
‘My laptop’s down in the Navigator,’ he said at last. He nodded to the PDA. ‘I can download the contents and we’ll see if we can trace exactly where that email came from.’ He checked his watch, added grimly, ‘And, with any luck, I’ll be able to do it before they get here.’
‘Who?’ I demanded. ‘I told you what they said about calling in the cops—’
‘No, Eisenberg’s people,’ he cut in, already heading for the door, where he paused just long enough to send me a wry smile. ‘You think they haven’t been tracking that thing since the moment the kid was taken?’
I didn’t move from the window while he was gone. Without knowing about the supposed email that had lured Torquil into the ambush, I hadn’t shown the fallen PDA to his bodyguards, hadn’t mentioned it in fact. Not that they’d stopped to ask a lot of unnecessary questions. Or one or two I would have said were pretty bloody vital.
Still, it should have occurred to me that the first thing they’d do was attempt to track him via the GPS chip. In fact, I was amazed they hadn’t bust the door down already.
Parker was back a minute or so later, without actually appearing to hurry. There was an economy of movement to him that inspired confidence. He was already opening up a case containing a slim laptop and setting it up on a side table that was probably not intended to hold more than an elaborate arrangement of flowers. He plugged in a USB lead, tapped a few keys, and coerced the PDA into opening up a dialogue with its temporary host. In moments, it was spilling its secrets.
In the midst of this operation, Caroline Willner came into the living area and sank into a chair. Her posture was still very upright, but she moved slowly, as though it physically hurt her to do so. For the first time, she looked like an old lady rather than a matriarch.
I would have asked her if she was OK, but something told me she would hate that weakness being so obvious, more than she hated the weakness itself. Instead, I rang for a pot of tea, and when one of the maids, Silvana, smilingly answered my summons, I politely asked if she could dig out something sweet to go with it, just as an excuse to bring some sugar into the equation.
When Silvana left, Caroline Willner flashed me a brief glance that told me she understood what I was doing, and was not ungrateful for it.
‘How’s Dina?’ I asked. Safer ground.
‘Still very shocked,’ Caroline Willner said. ‘They’ve given her a light sedative. She’ll sleep for a while.’
Parker met my eye briefly. ‘Probably for the best,’ he said much more soothingly than I would have managed. The PDA finished disgorging its content and he carefully unplugged it, coiling up the short lead and slipping it into his pocket, out of sight, before he began scanning through the captured files with the laptop’s screen canted away from us.
But I knew he’d found something by his sudden immobility, the hardening around his mouth. He glanced up, caught me watching him.
‘You better see this.’
I moved round to stand alongside him, leaning over the laptop so I could see the screen too. It was a video clip of an interior scene, a bedroom. There were three occupants, engaged in activity that was as athletic as it was inventive.
Two thirds of the trio were uniformly muscular young men, one blond, one dark, tanned and tattooed. The woman was older, paler, but she had the well-preserved look that comes with surgery and stringent maintenance. Her haircut – and what was left of her lingerie after the young studs had removed much of it with their teeth – was expensive in cut and colour.
I raised my eyebrows at Parker. ‘Torquil wouldn’t be the first immature male to download porn off the Internet.’
‘I don’t think this is a straightforward download,’ Parker murmured, calling up file names and root directories and a whole load of other stuff I had no clue about. ‘This was a direct feed from someplace.’
I looked again. The picture was surprisingly high quality, all things considered, but the camera position never altered, even when the players’ antics took them half out of the range of the lens. Never once did they seem aware of being filmed. There were no coy little smiles or knowing glances.
‘Hidden camera?’ I said.
Parker nodded. ‘That would be my guess.’
I blanked the cavorting on the bed and focused beyond them, out into the room itself. Where had I seen that decor, those furnishings, that giant plasma screen TV hanging dark on the far wall, the oval detail in the ceiling …?
‘Oh my God,’ I said faintly. ‘That’s Eisenberg’s yacht. One of the main staterooms.’
And not just any of the staterooms, but the same one where Dina had gone for her private chat with Orlando and Benedict on the night of Torquil’s party. I flicked my eyes to Parker’s. ‘Is there sound with this?’
By way of answer, he dragged the cursor across a small sound bar in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen. The laptop’s small internal speakers struggled to accurately reproduce the grunts and groans and squeals of the audio track for a few moments, before he quickly lowered the volume again, looking ever so slightly embarrassed.
The maid, Silvana, returned with a teapot and cups and various highly calorific snacks on a large tray. She put the tray down on the low table in front of Caroline Willner, and obeyed her instruction that we would pour.
It was only when she’d left us again that Caroline Willner rose and said calmly to Parker, ‘I think you’d better let me see.’
It was the first time I think I’ve ever seen Parker look flustered. ‘Ma’am, it’s not the kinda thing you ought to—’
‘For pleasure, no,’ she agreed gravely. ‘But it’s entirely obvious what the boy was looking at, and I may be able to identify the, ah … participants, shall we say?’
‘Ah,’ Parker said, still with a touch of pink across his cheekbones. He turned the laptop towards her and tried to studiously ignore the way she peered closer at the screen, reaching for her reading glasses, which hung on an ornate chain around her neck.
‘My, my,’ she murmured after a few moments. ‘Well one has to admire their limber qualities, if nothing else …’
I grinned at her and she wrinkled her nose in brief response, before straightening.
‘Anyone you know?’ I asked.
‘The young men, I haven’t had the pleasure of making their acquaintance, and I’m quite sure I would remember. But the woman is undoubtedly Nicola Eisenberg – Torquil’s mother.’ She frowned thoughtfully. ‘I shall view her power yoga classes in a whole new light.’
Parker, old-fashioned in some ways more than others, looked in serious danger of spontaneously combusting with associated shame. He busied himself with the laptop again while Caroline Willner calmly went back to the table
