[Quinn 02] - The Deceived

They stared at each other for a minute.

“You found the message Markoff left, right?” Albina asked.

“I found it.”

“Did you figure out what it means yet?”

“Why? Do you know what it means?”

Albina shook his head. “Nah. I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Client, Jorge. Who is it?”

More coffee stirring, then a sip, then, “I can tell you this much. He knows you, and respects you.”

“He respects me?” Quinn said. “I could care less what he thinks about me. He kills my friend, then ships him here for me to bury. Who is he?”

“I told you. I can’t.”

“Okay. We’re done.”

Quinn started to get up, but Albina reached out and put a hand on Quinn’s wrist.

“Don’t get confused here,” Albina said. “I believe my client was trying to do the right thing. He told me the dead should be with friends, not lost overboard somewhere.”

“This is just bullshit. Who the fuck is he?”

The cafe went quiet. Several people turned to look in their direction.

“Relax,” Albina said. “Don’t get so worked up.”

Quinn settled back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. “Who sent you the container?”

Albina paused for a moment, then shook his head. “No. But there’s a reason why.”

“I don’t care why.” Quinn leaned further back.

“Yes, you do. You think whoever sent the container to me is the one who killed Markoff. But I happen to know that’s not the truth. But here’s the problem. Only two people know who that container came from. The person who sent it and me. If word got out, it could get ugly

for him. Know what I mean?”

“Who?” Quinn asked.

“Were you not just listening to me?”

“I was. I just don’t care,” Quinn said.

“That’s up to you. I can only tell you what I know.”

“You can tell me the truth.”

Albina raised his hands off the table, palms out to Quinn. “You don’t want to believe me, you won’t believe me.” He paused. “Look, there is something I can tell you. The container, it didn’t come in on a ship. It was flown in.”

“Flown in?”

“From my understanding, that particular container hadn’t been on a ship in at least three weeks.”

Quinn processed this new information quickly, realizing almost instantly what it meant. Markoff ’s body hadn’t become bloated and discolored by a week at sea, but rather it had happened on land while the container just sat there, waiting. Someplace hot, where the warmth of the sun would have turned the metal tomb into an oven, slowly cooking him to death. Quinn was sure his friend had been alive when he’d been put inside the box; the message on the wall was proof of that. Sure, it could have been written by someone else, but Quinn’s instincts told him it was Markoff.

And ultimately what Albina’s revelation meant was that the whole time while Markoff lay dying, he was likely less than a mile from people who could have rescued him.

“Why take it to the port?”

“You would have asked a lot of questions if it had been anywhere else.”

“I’m asking the questions now.”

“Sure, but you’ve also already been on the job for a few days, haven’t you?”

The implication of Albina’s words surprised Quinn. “Your client wanted me to investigate Markoff ’s death?”

“I don’t know about want, but he was giving you the option.”

“So the fact that the Riegle 3’s last port of call was Singapore means nothing?”

“I never said that.”

Quinn tried to read Albina’s face. “You tell me that your client had nothing to do with Markoff ’s death. That the container was flown in. That Singapore is actually still in play. But you won’t tell me who your client is?”

Albina finished a sip of his coffee, then set his cup down on the table. “Now you’re catching on.”

“We need to get out of town tonight,” Quinn said.

He and Nate had just arrived back at Aunt Jay’s house. Orlando was hunched over the computer in the same