The Tears of Dark Water (51 page)

“Do you remember any of the words he taught you?” she asked.

Quentin narrowed his eyes, thinking. “Sailboat is
doon
. Sail is . . .
dhoofnay
. Table is
miiska
. Girl is
gabar
. Beautiful is
qurux
. There were . . . a lot of words.”

She shook her head, astonished by his faculty for language. “Why did he teach them to you?”

“I asked him to,” Quentin replied. “He was good to us . . . before the Navy came. He let us listen to music . . . and take showers.” He fixed his eyes on Derrick. “Can we go below now?”

“I’m ready if you are,” the negotiator replied, extracting a digital recorder from his pocket.

“Freddie and I are coming with you,” Hewitt said. “We need to tape the conversation.”

“Do you mind if I stay out here?” Vanessa asked, troubled by the thought of entering the place where Daniel died. She knew the FBI had cleansed the boat and removed all vestiges of the shooting, but she didn’t want to feed the demons in her imagination.

Quentin shrugged, and Derrick gave her a look that said:
I’ll take care of him
.

“Can I sit with you, Vanessa?” Ariadne asked, moving closer to her. Vanessa nodded. The girl had an uncanny sense for what people needed. She took Ariadne’s hand and held it gratefully.

The negotiator slid the weather hatch open and looked into the sailboat. “Just a minute,” he said and entered the cabin, sliding back the curtains from the portholes. He poked his head out again and helped Quentin down the steps. Vanessa held her breath, worried that he was walking into a psychological ambush. But he handled it without incident, following Derrick past the galley and into the dining booth. She could see their bodies through the hatch, but she couldn’t see their faces.

When Agents Hewitt and Matheson settled in across from them, Quentin spoke again. “This is where we sat most of the time . . . after the Navy came.” he said, his voice quieter but still audible to Vanessa. “This is where . . . we slept at night.”

“Do you remember anything else about the day before the
Gettysburg
came?” Derrick asked. “Did anything significant happen?”

There was a long pause, then Quentin said: “There was a . . . dispute about the food. Mas thought we had poisoned it . . . because Osman got diarrhea . . . after eating peanut butter sandwich crackers. Mas pointed his gun at us. Afyareh told him that Osman . . . was allergic to peanuts.”

“Tell me more about Mas,” Derrick said. “What was he like?”

Quentin’s reply was steadier. “He wasn’t kind to us . . . like Afyareh. He didn’t speak English. He had a scar . . . on his cheek. He and Osman were friends. But he didn’t like Afyareh.”

“What do you mean he didn’t like him?”

“I remember them arguing,” Quentin said. “I don’t know . . . what it was about.”

“Was that before or after the ransom negotiations?”

The query stumped Quentin. “I think it was . . . when the planes were in the air. I’m not sure.”

Derrick thought for a moment. “Did you know that the
Renaissance
changed course in the middle of the night? It happened soon after Afyareh made contact with your family.”

“We changed course?” Quentin asked, his bewilderment plain.

“When the
Gettysburg
arrived, the sailboat was on a course for central Somalia,” Derrick said. “After the course change, you headed toward Mogadishu. The pirates didn’t mention that?”

“No,” Quentin replied.

“All right. Let’s go to the recordings. Since our time is limited, I’m going to focus on the last communications between Afyareh and Curtis before the ransom was agreed to, and between Afyareh and me before the shooting. You let me know if you think of anything.”

Vanessa looked into the sky and tightened her grip on Ariadne’s hand. Her heartbeat increased to a drumbeat and anxiety gnawed at the edges of her consciousness.
If Quentin can do this, you can, too
, she told herself, pushing back the fear. Suddenly, she heard Curtis’s voice. The conversation was a series of torrid exchanges separated by static and clicks.

[Click]

Curtis:
Ibrahim, how are my son and grandson?

Ismail:
They are fine, Curtis. You may talk to them when we have a deal.

Curtis:
No. I want to talk to Daniel now.

[Static]

Ismail:
My men are tired of this negotiation, Curtis. We have been more than reasonable with you. We will not accept less than 2.1 million dollars. I know your family has it. So don’t waste my time telling me otherwise. You have seventeen hours left before the deadline
.

[A click, then a pause, then another click]

Ismail:
Are we in agreement?

Curtis:
Ibrahim, I just wired 1.85 million dollars to a bank account in Nairobi. My daughter-in-law is there now. She will collect the cash in the morning and put it on a plane for delivery. That’s all we could raise. If you want more, you need to extend the deadline.

Ismail:
I think you are lying, Curtis. I think you are being cheap.

Curtis:
Then you are a fool. I convinced the Navy to leave you alone. Why would I lie when we’re so close?

Ismail:
That is unacceptable. The deadline stands.

[A click, then a pause, then another click]

Ismail:
I talked to my men. We are willing to accept 1.85 million dollars.

Curtis:
That is good news, Ibrahim. We have a deal. Please provide the delivery coordinates.

Vanessa heard a different kind of click and realized Derrick had turned off the recording. She watched her son through the companionway, willing him to be strong.

“We were in the galley . . . when that happened,” Quentin said. “The pirates were in the booth. They talked together a lot . . . during that conversation. I remember they were . . .
agitated
when Grandpa said he could only pay 1.85 million dollars.”

“Was Afyareh in charge of the conversation?” Derrick inquired.

“All of them were talking. They reached . . . a decision together.” He was quiet. “I think Mas had something . . . to do with that. Yeah, Mas and Afyareh talked.”

“Did Mas guide the decision?” Derrick asked.

“No,” Quentin said. “Afyareh was . . . in control.”

“Did he ever lose control?” the negotiator pressed gently.

The cabin was silent for an extended moment. “I don’t know,” Quentin finally said, sounding exasperated. “I still can’t remember . . . what happened at the end.”

“That’s all right,” Derrick said calmly. “You’re doing a great job. The next recording happened after the ransom was delivered. Are you ready for it?”

Quentin’s response was a notch quieter: “Yes.”

Derrick pressed play and the recording began.

[Static]

Ismail:
What are you doing, Paul? This was not our deal!

Derrick:
Ibrahim, I tried to call you on the sat phone, but you didn’t answer. You don’t need to worry. Our radar picked up a couple of boats launching from the beach. We’re sending the helicopter to keep them away. Over.

Ismail:
That’s not acceptable, Paul. If you want the hostages to be released, you need to put the helicopter back on the ship now.

Derrick:
Ibrahim, our agreement hasn’t changed. The helo is a precaution for the safety of the hostages. We don’t know why the boats just launched. We don’t know who’s driving them or what they’re carrying. The helo isn’t going to stop you from reaching the beach. I made a promise I intend to keep.

[Static]

When Derrick turned off the recorder, Vanessa’s mind was swarming with questions. What were the boats that had launched from the beach? Were they connected to the pirates? Why had she never heard about the helicopter before? On multiple occasions, she had asked the FBI for more information, but no one had mentioned it. What else had the government withheld from her? Lastly, why did Ismail’s voice sound different? Beneath his usual belligerence, she had detected a trace of fear. What was he afraid of? The Navy? The helo? Or something else?

After a moment, Quentin began to speak again. Vanessa had to strain to hear him. “I remember that conversation . . .
vaguely
. It’s like there’s a cloud . . . in my head. There was an argument, I think. I remember shouting . . . but I don’t know who was doing it.” He thought for a while longer. “I remember my dad saying something . . . about using the table as cover if they start shooting.”

Vanessa listened as Derrick sought to elicit more information about Afyareh and Mas, but all of Quentin’s replies were variations of “I don’t know.” Each time he confessed ignorance he sounded more agitated, as if the blank spots in his memory were a personal failing, not the result of brain injury. Vanessa wrestled with her instincts, longing to intercede but knowing that Quentin would react badly. After a moment, she decided to follow Dr. Greenberg’s example and let her son stand on his own.

“There’s another series of exchanges,” Derrick said. “The last one. But I’ll only play it if you want me to. What you’ve done today is admirable. There’s no shame in stopping now.”

“I don’t want . . . to stop,” Quentin replied gravely. “I need to finish this.”

“Okay,” Derrick said. “Here goes.” He pressed the play button.

[Click]

Derrick:
Captain Parker, how are things over there?

Daniel:
Paul! You have to do something. You have to get the Navy to listen. If the chopper isn’t back on the ship in five minutes, they’re going to kill us.

Derrick:
Daniel, I need you to calm down. Who’s saying that to you? Is Ibrahim saying that? Because that isn’t the deal we arranged.

Daniel:
Yes, it’s Ibrahim. But the others are with him.

Derrick:
Have they processed the contents of the package?

Daniel:
They were almost finished when the chopper took off.

[Clatter of rifle clips being changed]

Daniel:
Stop it! Put the guns down! Paul, they’re pointing their guns at us. You have to do something now.

Derrick:
Captain, I hear what you’re saying. I want you to tell Ibrahim that I’m going to talk to the Navy. I need him to be patient. The chopper is miles away now. It’s going to take time to get it back on the ship.

Daniel:
Okay, okay.

Ibrahim:
Your five minutes is now four. I am not the one breaking our agreement. If you do not act quickly, the Captain will die.

[Click, then a pause, then another click]

Derrick:
Do you see it?
It’s powering down.

Ismail:
We want the helicopter inside the ship.

[Static]

Derrick:
We’re going to put the helo away. It shouldn’t be long now.

[Click, then a pause, then another click]

Derrick:
Ibrahim, the helicopter is inside the ship. It’s time to make the exchange.

Ismail:
You moved the ship.

Derrick:
What are you talking about?

Ismail:
You know what I mean. My eyes do not lie.

Derrick:
It’s getting dark. Things look different at night.

Ismail:
You have betrayed our trust. You must move the ship. We will not release the hostages until you are one mile away. You have five minutes to comply.

[Click, then a pause, then another click]

Derrick:
Ibrahim, I can get the Navy to move the ship, but I need you to give me something in return. Put Quentin in a life preserver with a safety light and send him overboard. We’ll pick him up—

Ismail:
You’re changing the bargain, Paul. You moved the ship while we were counting the money. Why did you do that? To bring your snipers closer so they can kill us? I remember a lesson my father taught me. If a merchant says he’ll bring you ten camels but he only brings nine, you pay him for the nine and demand the last one for free. You broke our trust. We aren’t going to pay you for the tenth camel.

Derrick:
Ibrahim, moving the ship wasn’t part of our agreement either. We can renegotiate, but you need to give us something in return. You lose nothing if you let Quentin go. You can hold on to the Captain until we’re far enough away for comfort. That’s the best I can do.

Ismail:
You’re not listening, Paul. The one who breaks trust has the obligation to restore it. If you had not moved your ship, we would be on the beach by now and the hostages would be in your
hands. You moved your ship.
It is
your duty to move it again.