Ghost Ship

To their left, they passed an old man parked on the side of the cobbled street. He was struggling to get his ascot green, 1972 Lancia Montecarlo Coupe started. Like everyone else who visited or lived in the small coastal village of Vernazza, he’d probably left the car as soon as he’d arrived, and was now suffering the consequence of its disuse. Behind them some polizia were walking briskly their way, coming from the harbor to the south. Up ahead, stationed at the entrance to the communal carpark, were two men loitering, wearing overcoats and smoking cigarettes.

There was no way any normal person would be wearing overcoats in Vernazza during its summer months.

Sam’s eyes darted left to right.

He was searching for a way around the two most likely threats.

There were none.

He could turn around, but that meant dealing with the big guy and woman with him, who were clearly following them. It also meant they were more likely to be confronted by the polizia.

Catarina said, “Two o’clock. Do you see them?”

Sam kept moving. “I see them.”

“They sure as hell don’t look like they belong here.”

“I agree,” Sam said, without slowing his stride.

“What do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Something will come up.”

She took a surreptitious glance behind her. The polizia had picked up their pace, the big guy and the woman were closing the gap. “We’re running out of options. Do we keep going or turn around? It’s your call.”

“Keep going,” Sam said, his voice emphatic. “We’re going to have to deal with someone. May as well keep heading in the right direction while we do it.”

“Okay. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Sam grinned. “Not a clue, but I’m sure something will come up. It usually does.”

“Oh yeah?” She arched her eyebrow. “That’s very reassuring coming from a guy who’s lost his memory.”

Sam didn’t make a response.

He kept walking past the two men in overcoats, through the sandstone arch, and into the underground carpark. He met the first man in the overcoat’s eye and gave a firm nod as acknowledgement. There was instant recognition in the man’s face, but no movement.

Sam gritted his teeth and kept walking.

The parking lot was underground.

They had only made it fifteen feet before the sound of trailing footsteps echoed behind them.

Sam turned to greet his attackers.

Both men had their handguns drawn. Glock 19s.

Sam reached for his handgun. But it was too late. The smaller of the two men said, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Sam paused, his hand just about on the weapon’s handle. He relaxed his fingers so they came free, and distanced his hand from the weapon. The big guy behind him quickly removed the handgun and stepped back so that he wasn’t close enough for Sam to reach.

“Good decision.” The man closest to him said, “Now, Mr. Reilly, I think you’d better come with us.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sam turned the palms of his hands skyward. “Hey guys, do I know you?”

“No, but my boss knows you. He seems to think that you have something that belongs to him in that suitcase.”

“This suitcase?” Catarina asked. “It’s mine. There’s nothing that belongs to your boss inside.” She licked her lips. “Definitely nothing that he’s ever going to get his hands on.”

Sam made a quick observation of the two men, taking them in with a glance.

One was a big heavyset man with a thick, short, neck and a set of teeth full of gold. Next to him, the other man was smaller, but had a hard expression and a supercilious smile. Both looked like hardened criminals. Paid thugs. Professional bullies.

He grinned. “Hey, my memory must be coming back, I do know you two.”

“Oh yeah?” said the man with golden teeth.

“Yeah, you’re doctor evil in that old Bond film…” Sam turned his gaze to Gold Teeth. “And you’re the villain’s paid brute. The real dumb one if I remember correctly.”

Catrina made a thin-lipped smile. “No, no, Sam… you’ve got it all wrong. Your memory’s not getting any better.”

Sam frowned. “It isn’t? I was starting to get excited.”

“Afraid not. You’re mixing the James Bond films.” Catarina made a coy smile and gestured toward the bigger of the two men. “This here is Jaws, the towering bad guy with steel teeth from The Spy Who Loved Me…” She made a point of studying the skinnier one. “And this one here… if I had to guess, is Doctor Dolittle!”

Sam opened his mouth, suppressed a smile. “So it is… so it is. The man who talks to animals.”

Jaws bared his golden teeth, like a rabid dog. He turned the Glock on Catarina. “Hand over the suitcase, love… before we kill you as well as him.”

Sam froze. His eyes darting between their two attackers, before landing on Catarina. Her jaw tightened and her eyes defiant, giving him a firm nod of approval.

The next seven seconds happened in a blur.

Catarina threw the metallic case at Jaws. It was heavy and solid. Thrown with a strong arm, it carried with it a surprisingly sinister amount of force. Jaws moved quickly for a man his size, stepping back, protecting his face with his arms.