Lost Witness Page 9

  "It doesn't matter how he got here, what matters is that he is bringing it to your attention now," Josie said, knowing that explaining how Billy got to shore would only serve to add fantasy to the fantastic.

  "And there is nothing you can tell me about the dead man? Not his name or his country of origin?"

  "He was Filipino. Older than me. Old maybe. I don't know. It was dark and he was. . ." Billy's voice trailed off as he mined his memory for anything that would get this guy moving. "He might have been someone from the company. He wasn't crew. Not the way he was dressed. He wore a gold chain.”

  "And the woman?" Josie prodded Billy, pushing him to give Andreeve what he wanted.

  "Her name is Tala Reyes. She's twenty-four. We joined the Faret Vild in Manila on October 12. We saw to the reefers," Billy said before adding. "We saw to the refrigeration units."

  Amused that Billy felt the need to explain anything to a man of his experience, Andreeve made a great show of looking at the information on his clipboard. He flipped the top sheet and scanned the paper underneath before flipping that one too.

  "Your name again?" This time he lifted his head and looked past Josie to Billy, but it was Josie who answered.

  "Billy Zuni," she said.

  The words were barely out of her mouth when Billy whispered in her ear. What she heard made her cringe. Billy had signed on to the Faret Vild using his Albanian name. Now there was one more problem, one more thing to explain.

  "The name on your log will be Billy Zogaj," Josie said. Andreeve went back to his papers. Exasperated, Josie tried once more to convince him of the gravity of the situation. "You do understand that yours will be a personal liability should my client die of her injuries, correct?"

  "What I understand is that there are people who think many things go on in a port that shouldn't," Andreeve said. "Sometimes these people are crazy and sometimes they are angry at one of our client companies, or at the maritime association, or at someone aboard a ship. Sometimes they are just mistaken in what they believe, or they are drunk and making up stories. I will think that this young man maybe has some issues, and that he is very good at convincing people to become - what shall I say? - hysterical for no reason."

  "Look, you idiot—" Billy began, but Andreeve would have none of his outrage.

  "I am no fool," he snapped, showing a face that was far more formidable than the one he had presented thus far. He dismissed Billy with a look and addressed Josie. "I do not know you, but I believe you are sincere in your concern. That being said, I do not disrupt business because of a phone call or because someone threatens me with the law. You have not presented any proof of this man's identity or his claims that he was aboard that ship. Get him help, but do not bring him back here."

  While she listened, Josie reached for her phone. She had it in hand to call the LAPD, but caught sight of Archer out of the corner of her eye. He was pointing at something, and when Josie turned to look she saw that Gregor Andreeve was a step ahead of her. Two port cops were heading their way. Josie looked back at Andreeve.

  "You're going to have us arrested?"

  "I am going to have you escorted off the premises, Ms. Bates," Andreeve said.

  Josie looked at Archer again and he shook his head, warning her off any rash behavior. Knowing he was right, she used her last option: she begged.

  "Mr. Andreeve, at least call the captain. Or put one of your people back on board for another look. There's time. They aren't even done off-loading. Please check."

  It was too late. Gregor Andreeve was done with them. One of the cops took Josie's arm. She tried to shake him off, but he held tight.

  "Andreeve, please. Make the call."

  "No, Ms. Bates," the man said. With a glance, he directed the larger security officer to do his duty.

  The man took hold of Billy's arm. Josie saw Hannah start to move. The girl's eyes were filled with such pain and outrage that Josie couldn't bear it. She knew what Hannah was seeing: history repeating itself. Billy was being discounted and marginalized and no one was doing anything about it, not even Josie.

  "Just tell me. Did you talk to the captain?" Josie asked Andreeve.

  "Your alert went through the proper channels. I have all the paperwork from the Faret Vild including the customs and immigration paperwork. There is no record of Tala Reyes or of a man named Billy Zuni or Billy Zogaj being employed. There is no one on this manifest by those names. The Faret Vild carried no passengers. You, Ms. Bates, have been had."

  Gregor Andreeve turned his clipboard toward Josie to show her the manifest, but it was Billy who shook off the cop and took it away from him.

  "No, no. This is wrong. We sailed on that ship. The two of us. The captain did something. It's been changed. I'm telling you, Tala is on that ship."

  "That ship is cleared," Andreeve said again. "This discussion is over."

  "Like hell it is," Billy answered.

  11

  Day 1 @ 4:00 P.M

  Billy pivoted before the cop could get a grip and threw the clipboard at Andreeve as he bolted. He ran toward the pier where the Faret Vild was docked, he ran without a care that he would have to breach a manned security station to reach the ship.

  "Billy, don't! Stop!" Hannah was the first to react. She started after him, but Josie fell back and flanked her.

  "Stay put, Hannah. You'll make it worse," she said.

  Archer took the girl's arm and held tight.

  "Billy," she said, and this time his name was spoken like a lament.

  Andreeve barked directions into his walkie-talkie, speaking assuredly, positive that this one man — young and strong though he may be —was no match for the port with its checkpoints, uniformed guards, and undercover security. But Gregor Andreeve was wrong. Billy Zuni had beaten greater odds than this, and he was determined to do it again. When he spun out of reach just before two cops moved in to take him down, the pier manager realized he had a real problem on his hands.

  "South. South." Andreeve threw out his arms, directing the additional security that was headed their way.

  "Billy!" Josie tried to get his attention, but failed. She would never know if he didn't hear her or didn't want to.

  "Where's he going?" Archer asked the question, but it was rhetorical.

  No one knew where he was headed because Billy had changed course. He was running headlong toward them and away from the ship, sprinting down the wide concrete corridor that led back to the parking lot. A mile beyond that lot was the storage area for the containers that came off the ships and beyond that was the city of Wilmington. It would be easy enough to lose himself among the strip clubs and small time businesses that served the port, but Wilmington was a long way off.

  Still, hemmed in on one side by the port administration buildings and a ten-foot chain link fence on the other, there seemed to be no other explanation for Billy's change of direction. Just as Andreeve ordered his men to stand down figuring that Billy was running away, the boy made a sharp turn, threw himself at the chain link fence, and started to climb. Oblivious to the cacophony of cries, he scrambled higher, losing his footing once, recovering in the next second.

  Security came out of nowhere and now there were five men giving chase. One hit the fence hard and climbed as fast as Billy. Gregor Andreeve ran, too, screaming orders as Billy rolled over the serrated metal atop the fence and scrambled down the other side. Letting go, he dropped the last five feet, and hit the ground hard.

  Stunned, he lay prone for a second and then scrambled up only to freeze when he saw a forklift bearing down on him. At the last minute, the operator put on the brakes and the machine labored to a stop. The man behind the wheel pulled himself half out of the cab. Angered by the close call, the man started to give Billy a piece of his mind only to duck back inside his cab when he saw what was going on.

  Frantically Billy searched for an escape route, but it was too late. While the forklift had distracted him, a security guard had come from behind. Young and quick though
he may be, Billy was off balance. The guard not only had the drop on him, he outweighed Billy by fifty pounds. He threw himself on top of Billy, face-planting him on the concrete and knocking the wind out of him.

  "Stay down. Stay down," the man cried as he straddled Billy.

  Josie, Archer, and Hannah rushed to get a closer look, but the phalanx of security made it impossible to reach the fence. Still, they were close enough to see there was blood under Billy's head and a look of absolute terror in his eyes. When the guard drew his gun, Hannah turned away.

  Just then the cop who had climbed the fence in pursuit was cresting, but as he rolled over the top he lost his balance, and fell ten feet to the ground, crying out as his shoulder shattered against the concrete. Instinctively, the man who had subdued Billy started for his colleague. That was the opening Billy needed. He bucked and the man fell back. Billy was on him in an instant, fighting ferociously for control of the weapon, crying with an outrage that was as deep as it was dark.

  "No! No," Josie screamed.

  "Billy!" Hannah cried out as she tried to move around the men at the fence.

  Archer knew they would never let anyone get close, so he ran to one of the squat concrete security pedestals that surrounded the administration building. Scrambling up, he stood high enough to see that the tide had turned. Billy Zuni had the guard in a headlock and the gun in his hand. He was holding the barrel skyward as he dragged the man backward.

  "Check the Faret Vild and I'll let him go," Billy screamed. "Find Tala Reyes. That's all I wa—"

  But it didn't matter what Billy wanted because the forklift driver had emerged from the cab, and this time he was carrying a thick rope. Knotted to one end of it was a metal eyelet and on the other end was a massive steel hook. He swung the rope like a lasso and let it fly. The hook caught Billy on the temple. He crumbled to the ground, nearly taking the beefy cop with him. The gun clattered on the concrete and the security man went after it. The forklift driver pulled in his rope as he walked over to inspect his handiwork. The cop who had fallen off the fence got up, holding his shoulder as he went in for a look-see at the young man who lay bleeding and unconscious on the concrete.

  The port police had their man, Josie Bates had a client who would be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again, and Hannah Sheraton had a sick feeling that even Josie might not be able to help Billy this time.

  12

  Day 1 @ 6 P.M

  The office where Josie waited had a spectacular view of the port, two folding metal chairs and nothing else, so she stood with her shoulder up against the window looking at the Faret Vild.

  The ship was lit up like a Christmas tree. On the third deck, she could see one man was smoking while others did whatever people did on a ship like that. Cranes swung containers into the hold and machinery onto the upper deck. Men on the dock worked queuing the cargo and moving it on like a conveyor belt.

  Initially Josie thought the job of moving cargo was completely unmanageable, nothing but turmoil and chaos. Yet after a few hours she realized there was a method to the madness and everything moved like clockwork. In fact, the business of the docks was so smooth that watching it had become tiresome, so Josie's mind wandered. She found herself curious about those big containers and what was in them. For a while she tried to get a handle on how many crew were on the Faret Vild. She thought about the thousands of places someone could hide, and a thousand reasons that would motivate a woman on a ship full of men to kill. Josie knew she would go crazy working on a ship like that: an ugly, grey, floating fortress. With that last thought, Josie's musings took a dark turn.

  Maybe - just maybe - Billy had gone mad. How were any of them to know? Or maybe they were the ones who had lost their minds. Perhaps she and Hannah wanted to believe in the romance of the situation: a handsome, heroic young man jumping ship, swimming to land, making his way home to help a woman in distress.

  Josie laughed.

  Home.

  That was rich.

  Hermosa Beach was no more home to Billy Zuni than Albania or Alaska or wherever else he had been in the last three years. No, Billy hadn't come home. He had gone to a familiar place and to people he trusted because it was expedient. It was Josie and Archer who read something more into the situation. The surprise of his appearance, the horrific tale of a woman in dire need, the urgency with which he presented the problem was real to all of them because it was Billy who was sounding the alarm. Perhaps they reacted out of memory and guilt.

  Josie turned away from the window, disappointed in herself and Archer. Questions had gone unasked, veracity hadn't been established, and all because each of them saw the Billy of old: sweet, truthful, needy Billy Zuni. They had ignored his scarred body and the new ice in his blue eyes. They hadn't wanted to see that he was the same and yet different. Lesser men lost their minds over lesser things than what Billy had been through.

  Putting her back against the wall, Josie checked her phone. There was nothing from Archer, not that she had expected there to be. Running down someone wasn't easy when all you had was a name. Running down a woman who wasn't a United States citizen was even harder. Running down a woman who might not even exist was going to take a miracle.

  She scrolled again.

  Hannah was silent, but that was also to be expected. Only those who knew Hannah well would have understood what she was going through. Hannah was strong, but she was not invincible. In life there was always something that could bring you to your knees, and for Hannah that something was Billy. In the next second it was Josie who was almost brought to hers.

  A pain stabbed into her side and doubled her over, sending her phone clattering to the floor. Her skin went slick with sweat, and her vision clouded. She cried out and then bit off the sound as she buried her teeth into her lower lip. Like a bull, she breathed hot and heavy, flaring her nostrils, grunting, and pushing at the pain in her gut before it put her on her knees.

  Josie kept her head down while her breathing steadied. The pain had passed almost as quickly as it had come. When she righted herself she did so slowly, testing her body, waiting for any sign that whatever it was would come again. When all seemed well she scooped up her phone, pushed back her hair, and pressed her fingertips to her eyes. Taking one more deep breath, she rotated her shoulders and shook her head. She was getting old if chaos gave her a bellyache.

  She looked at the closed door across the room, the one that led to the inner office where Billy was still being questioned. She looked at the ceiling. If security were monitoring the room, they didn't seem to care about her distress. Josie sat down on one of the metal chairs, put her head back, and closed her eyes. Images of people and places she had put aside long ago flashed in her memory: Alaska, mad men, fires, Albanian assassins. The only things missing were floods and pestilence for certainly all the other great plagues had visited Josie and those she cared about.

  "Ms. Bates?"

  Gregor Andreeve came into the room, and she was grateful for the distraction. With him was a man in a uniform. Neither looked tired; both appeared satisfied. Josie sat up straight and then stood.

  "This is Jack Benson, head of port security," Andreeve said.

  "Is Billy ready to go?"

  "We've turned him over to the LAPD. They'll hold him in the Harbor jail," Benson said. "You'll have to talk to them."

  Josie nodded. Billy was in short-term lock up for temporary inmate holds. It wasn't what she had hoped for, but it was pretty good.

  "I'd like to have him transferred to Harbor General. He needs medical attention," Josie said.

  "No need. Our doc gave him a few stitches and cleaned him up. He is coherent. He had something to eat and drink," Benson said. "And before you ask, he's sticking to his story."

  "As well he should," she said. "I don't think you can hold him for telling you his truth."

  "He's being held for breaching the port," Andreeve said. "There is zero tolerance for this kind of thing."

  "How are you charging him?"
>
  "Trespassing and assault," Benson said. "Mr. Zuni is lucky that it was a security guard he manhandled. If it had been the port police we would be charging assault on a federal officer and turning him over to Homeland Security and ICE."

  "He's not illegal," Josie said even though the matter was open for discussion.

  "We know about his background, but it's not up to us to determine his status, and L.A. doesn't cooperate with ICE anyway," Andreeve said. "We have double-checked with the Faret Vild, and the captain himself confirms the authority of the crew record. He doesn't know this man. Your client has no identification and answers to two names, so I think we are right to take the captain at his word."

  "I can identify him. He lived in Hermosa Beach until he was seventeen. He was brought to this country as a child from Albania. He —"

  "I don't care if he's a Dreamer or a Martian. I'm only concerned with what went down today, and you'll be hard pressed to argue it didn't happen," Benson said.

  "I'll grant you the trespass, but from where I stood it was my client who was assaulted. He was simply trying to extricate himself from your security officer who was out of shape, clumsy, inept and dangerous because of it."

  "Ms. Bates." Andreeve rolled his eyes.

  "Look, it's late. We're all tired," Benson said. "If you want to spar, do it with the D.A. if they indict your guy. Everybody is skittish about the port, and someone climbing the fence and picking up a gun is worrisome. So we're done here. He had no personal effects, there is nothing to sign for." Benson handed her a sheet of paper. "Here's a copy of the report and the names of the officers we handed him off to. Good luck and keep your client away from here unless you're putting him on a ship that's ready to sail."

  Before the two men were through the office door, Josie called.

  "Hey, Andreeve. What about the Faret Vild?"

  "As soon as she's loaded, Ms. Bates, she's none of my business and she was never any of yours."