Chapter 9.
During the night, the weather changed.
A strong, cool wind blew in huge black clouds from the Atlantic, scudding fast across the night sky and delivering torrential rain, pre-empted by vivid shafts of lightning spearing into the sea, followed by crashing thunder that threatened to tear the heavens to shreds.
It woke Harry up.
She spooned into Dempsey, snuggling as close to him as possible, her arm across his stomach and listening to the rain as it battered the ground, watching the room illuminate suddenly as the lightning flashed, then counting down the seconds, doubling as miles.
Three seconds she counted, so three miles away, then two, then one, until the thunder exploded overhead, so loud it was as if it were in the room and targetting her personally.
Eventually the storm passed, the wind died down and she fell back to sleep.
Dempsey never stirred.
The next morning was bright and hot again, the sky azure blue and looking as though it had been washed clean.
"Did you hear that storm last night, Dempsey?" asked Harry, up on one elbow, looking down at his sleeping face, then kissing him as his eyes blinked open.
"What storm?" he muttered, closing his eyes again, but pursing his lips, waiting for another kiss..
"Dear God, Dempsey!" she replied, annoyed and ignoring him. "It was loud enough to wake the dead!"
"Must've been dead then, 'cos I heard nothin, angel." he replied, sleepily. "Anyways up, whatcha worryin' for?"
"I just hope that was the last of it." she said. "Because I, for one, don't fancy lying in that sand dune tonight, getting soaked!"
"Nah, me neither." he replied, still dozing and pursing his lips once more.
"Dempsey! Wake up!" she ordered, exasperated with him. "What if there is another storm and it stops the boat from coming in?"
That woke him up!
"Shoot!" he agreed, sitting bolt upright. "That'd screw our plans right up!"
"Yes, wouldn't it just!" she replied, but unable to hide a smirk at the bleary eyed look on his face and stifling a giggle at his tousled hair, some of it standing up straight.
But mulling it over in his mind, he flopped back down again. "Nah, they'll just use a bigger boat, that's all. No-one's gonna risk an aborted trip, not with such a tight schedule. Stop ya frettin' princess and kiss me again."
"Hmm, perhaps you're right." agreed Harry, unable to resist him, leaning down once more and kissing his ready lips. "Breakfast?"
They spent the morning and early afternoon enjoying the sea and sunshine, looking to all intents and purposes like a loved up couple on honeymoon, before retiring to their room and preparing for the coming vigil.
Dressed in black once more, including balaclavas and packing their guns this time, they slung the binoculars round their necks, together with the cameras and telescopic lenses and set off for the secluded beach near Tarifa.
Being Saturday, the traffic was heavier than before and the journey took the best part of two hours, they eventually reaching the narrow pathway by six o'clock.
Noticing several cars parked randomly offroad, Dempsey parked amongst them.
But before they could step out of the car, they suddenly heard the familiar sound of sirens and, looking back up the road, saw half a dozen green and white police cars, their blue rooftop lights spinning, come speeding towards them before screeching to a halt at the paths entrance.
Leaping out were the Spanish Guardia, Spains Civil Guard, dressed in their customary grey uniforms, guns in holsters strapped to their hips and peculiarly shaped black helmets on their heads.
Dempsey and Harry watched as they sprinted down the pathway, then looked at each other in puzzlement and waited to see what happened next.
After about ten minutes, several near naked adults emerged, all using various items of clothing to cover their modesty, although the women remained bare breasted, the Carabineros shouting at them and hustling them into their cars, whereby they all started up and began leaving.
Realising they would be the only car left and not wanting to draw attention to themselves, Dempsey followed them all until the police had all come screaming past the line of cars and disappeared into the distance.
Then he signalled, pulled over to the kerbside and turned to Harry.
"Huh, how about that, honey?" said Dempsey. "That lot were using the beach as a nudist colony!"
"Yes, but you'd think the Guardia would have arrested them all, wouldn't you?" she questioned. "Public nudity is illegal in this country, so why weren't they thrown into the back of Spains equivalent of a Black Maria?"
"You think they were just clearing the beach for tonights delivery?" asked Dempsey.
"Yes I do, don't you?"
"If you're right, then Hofton's tentacles spread right into the gendarmerie."
"Hmmm, don't they just! Are you surprised!?"
"No, I'm not. But let's pray they don't turn up later!" said Dempsey.
By now dusk was approaching fast and they had to get into position before darkness fell. He turned the car around and headed swiftly back to the paths entrance, parking well off the road, the car partially hidden by vegetation.
They made their way down the path and found the sand dune, settling in to it on their stomachs and making sure their equipment fell easily to hand.
Dempsey gathered armfuls of vegetation together and began covering Harry with it, then rounding up similar bundles near to him and throwing them over himself.
They pulled on their balaclavas, especially useful in hiding Harry's light blonde hair, as it would have been akin to a beacon in the blackness around them.
All they could do now was wait.
The weather appeared to be holding up, with no hint of another incoming storm, the night sky awash with stars, the full moon throwing its dull, pale shadow over the beach, the water shimmering in its beam and the soft sound of the sea's swell before landing a gentle wave, reaching their alert ears.
Several hours passed until, approaching midnight, things began to happen.
First of all they detected an engine out to sea, soon eclipsed by a louder one travelling down the path towards them.
Lying stock still, they waited as a truck, its loading area covered by a canvas hood, trundled slowly past, Dempsey immediately snapping its registration number as it headed onto the beach.
Minutes later, a boat hove into view and ran right up onto the sand, Harry busy with her binoculars, Dempsey with his camera.
Suddenly, screaming, shouting and crying could be heard as at least ten young black girls were bundled out of the boat, those that tripped being hauled to their feet and beaten mercilessly with batons, some kicked with booted feet whilst still on the ground.
"Oh dear God!" whispered Harry, Dempsey emitting a low growl.
They contained their horror and anger and kept taking continuous photo's of the appalling scene unfolding before their eyes.
Sobbing and whimpering the girls were finally loaded into the back of the truck, which then executed an about turn, headed back to the path and up to the main road, Dempsey and Harry lying perfectly still, holding their breath as it passed just a few feet from them.
At the same time , the boat was pushed back into the water and piloted back out to sea, disappearing as fast as it had originally appeared, it's activity once more captured on film.
"Harry." whispered Dempsey. "We've gotta get ahead of that truck and beat it to the gates 'cos we need snaps of it entering the mansion!"
"Okay, it should be on its way by now, so lets' go!" she answered.
They quickly gathered together all the equipment and ran back up the path to the road, slowing deliberately to make sure it was clear.
Satisfied, they sprinted to the car, Dempsey starting it up almost before Harry had closed her door and took off after the truck.
They soon caught it up and passed it, Dempsey resisting the urge to accelerate away, but gradually increased his speed until the trucks headlights could no longer be seen in his mirrors.
As they approached the mansion gates, he slowed down to a crawl, both of them praying they weren't being guarded, or had one of Hofton's heavies waiting for the trucks arrival.
All appeared quiet, Dempsey reverse parking the car into the same lane as before.
"You stay here, Harry." he whispered. "No need for the two of of us in that hidey hole. Lock the doors when I've gone. Soon as I've got the snaps we'll hightail it outta here, okay?"
"Okay, be careful."
Grabbing his camera, he quickly ran to the road, then up to the hiding place opposite the gates, scrambling in amongst the 'stopper' and getting comfortable.
Forty minutes later, the truck could be heard crawling up the hill, its engine a high pitched whine in tune with its high gear, its headlamps searching the road.
It swung into the entrance and up to the gates, suddenly blasting its horn three times. Dempsey busied himself with the camera, gritting his teeth and ignoring the sobs and occasional scream from the back of the truck, accentuated by loud smacks and a male's salacious grunting.
The gates opened, the truck disappeared, the gates closing again seconds later.
Silence followed, except for the crickets.
Dempsey quickly crawled out and sprinted back to the car, Harry waiting anxiously for him, relief clear in her eyes, unlocking the doors as he approached.
"Ok, we're done!" he panted, as he jumped in, letting the handbrake off and allowing the car to coast down to the road.
Starting the engine, he drove them back to the hotel where they changed into suitable evening wear and went to the open air bar fronting the beach, their adrenalin high from the tension, but their mood a mixture of horror at what they'd witnessed again, yet elation at a successful conclusion to the mission.
"It's far from over, honey." said Dempsey, drinking his bourbon in one go and ordering another. "Okay, we've made some headway and justified comin' out here, but until we uncover the cuckoo, we're workin' with one hand tied behind our goddam backs!"
Harry appeared pensive. "But surely, now we've got all this evidence we simply arrest Hofton and Sir Marcus for child trafficking." she said.
"And what about the rest of 'em Harry? We've no idea who they are. I only saw and photographed Hofton and Sir Marcus gettin' outta that chopper, remember? 'An we're assumin' Hoftons head of this organisation 'cos it's his place bein' used, but you snapped a limo with Arab plates. Now those guys are seriously rich and they could be bankrollin' the whole operation. All we'd be doin' is cuttin' off the head of the weed if we just nabbed those two. No, we have to get 'em all, honey!"
"Wouldn't they enter a plea bargain?" she said. "You know, tell us who the rest are, including the cuckoo, for a reduced sentence."
"Harry, for God's sake, will you listen to yourself!?" replied Dempsey. "A plea bargain!? You'd be happy they'd get a reduced sentence!? Hell fire, honey what's gotten into you?"
She went very quiet.
"Honey, what's goin' on." asked Dempsey. "This ain't like you."
She looked at him, her features drawn, her eyes fearful.
"Perhaps the only way then to find out who the gang are and who the cuckoo is, is to set up a sting with him as the target." she said, finally. "Once we've got him, I think he'll crack. We might also get him to turn Queen's evidence and testify against them all. I know that'll involve a reduced sentence for him, but it'd be worth it."
Demspey looked at her suspiciously, his radar homing in on hers.
"Go on." he said, caution in his voice, dread in the pit of his stomach beginning to take root. He downed another draught of whisky.
"Well look Dempsey, as you've pointed out, we need to get the lot of them, but we're limited as to what we can do whilst the cuckoo is on the loose." she said. "However, we do know that Sir Marcus has a fixation with me and he's in league with the cuckoo. Can't we work something out with that?"
"Like what exactly?"
"I don't know yet, darling." she said, anxiously, grabbing his hand. "But perhaps we can use one to catch the other and end up getting them all. It doesn't necessarily mean I'll be in danger, because I don't believe Sir Marcus would want to harm me."
"Harry have you taken leave of your senses!?" growled Dempsey, incredulous at her suggestion. "That guy's a twisted pervert and possibly a friggin' killer, an' you don't think you'd be in danger!? Sheesh baby, come on, think about it!"
"Yes, yes I know." she argued. "I know he's dangerous, of course I do, but he's goes to jelly every time he's near me. Haven't you noticed?"
"Yeah, I've noticed, Harry!" he said, angrily, snatching his hand away. "An' I've also noticed what those young black girls are goin' through, an' that scumbag's involved in it up to his scrawny goddam neck!"
"And it's because of what all those poor young black girls are going through I'm suggesting all of this, Dempsey!" she retorted, just as angrily, her beautiful blue eyes beginning to water.
He looked away, remembering the last time she put herself up for bait and ending up being beaten almost senseless by a crazed psychopathic assassin. Being only a month or so previously, it was still raw.
Once again, his love for her was getting confused with their work.
He stood up and walked onto the beach, squatting on his haunches, head bowed, digging his hand into the sand and watching as it ran out through his fingers, his mind racing, his emotions close to the edge.
Harry wiped away a tear.
She knew exactly what he was thinking and got up from her stool, walking slowly to join him, kneeling down in front of him in the sand and taking both his hands in hers.
"I love you Dempsey, more than you'll ever know." she said, tilting her head to one side and looking into his eyes. "And I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you. But we have to stop the hideous perversion going on in that evil mansion back there."
He lifted his head and looked at her, the anger all but gone, his soft brown eyes watery, full of love, yet unable to hide his disquiet.
He stood up, bringing her to her feet too and put his arms around her waist, hers automatically looping round his neck, and kissed her waiting lips.
"I dunno angel" he said, finally. "I need some time to think 'bout this. Give it a rest for now, huh? I'm hungry. Let's have somethin' to eat."
"Ok darling." she said. "I'm hungry too."
They returned to the bar, ordering another round of drinks and asked if a meal was possible at such a late hour.
"Si senor." answered the barman. "You are guests. What would you like?"
Impressed, they settled for fillet steaks with a side salad and a bottle of the hotel's finest red wine.
That night their passion was fervent, impatient, reaching heights they thought previously impossible and in the morning they were more in love with each other than ever before.
But paradoxically, it was only going to make decisions as to how they move forward with the case, that much more difficult.
Dempsey activated their open return, first class tickets and they boarded a British Airways flight to London at four-thirty that afternoon, landing at Heathrow at six pm, GMT, and arriving at Harry's house by seven-thirty.
He opened a bottle of chilled white wine for her, opting for a cold bottle of beer for himself.
"Hadn't we better call Spikings, James." asked Harry, sitting down beside him on the sofa and taking a sip, before placing her glass on the small side table next to her.
"Yeah, you make the call, angel." he replied, swigging from the bottle and not particularly in the mood for Spikings's banter.
She dialled his number.
"Who's that!?" came the usual response.
"It's Makepeace sir. "
"Ah, Sergeant." he answered. "Still sunning yourselves, are you?"
"No actually, sir." she replied. "We're home now. Just got in as a matter of fact."
"Oh, I'm honoured." said Spikings, unable to hide his natural cynicism. "Couldn't wait to speak to me, eh?"
"You could say that, sir." replied Harry, rolling her eyes at Dempsey. "We'd like to meet with you and run through what we saw and the evidence we've collated."
"Right, well I've got a meeting with the Commissioner tomorrow morning, which will probably involve lunch too, Makepeace." he announced. "So I'll come to you in the afternoon, let's say, three o'clock?"
"Perfect sir, we'll see you then. Goodnight."
"Goodnight Sergeant."
"He'll be here tomorrow afternoon." she said, noting Dempsey's quiet mood and getting up to refill her wine glass." Have you thought anymore about how we move on with this case?"
"Constantly." he answered, searching her face, downing another draught of beer. "I've thought of nothin' else."
"Perhaps we'll get a different fix on it if we discuss it with Spikings." she suggested.
"He'll go for it." replied Dempsey. "He don't love you like I do."
She returned to the sofa, sitting down close to him, taking his arm and putting it round her neck, then resting her head on his shoulder.
They remained like that for some time, comfortable in their silence and stealing themselves for what was going to be a dangerous few days ahead.
