Part 13 (1/2)
He folded his arms. ”Trust me; I know him.”
In Eldridge's right hand I noticed a manila envelope, but I wasn't ready to go there yet. The ”trust me” explanation needed more details. This Pierre guy nearly got me killed, after all. So riddle me this, Mr. Commissioner...
”Why would he take off on me?” I asked.
”There's an arrest warrant on him in the States. Some bounced checks in New York, I believe,” said Eldridge. ”You had an American accent and, I presume, a lot of questions for him. He panicked.”
”Panicked?”
”I'm sure you know that Turks and Caicos adheres to the extradition agreement between the United States and Great Britain.”
”Not only do I know it, I'm inclined to put it to good use,” I said, only to watch Eldridge smile. I stared at him. ”You think I'm kidding?”
He raised his palms. ”No. I'm sorry, it's not that. No one told you yet, did they?”
”Told me what?”
”You blacked out after your crash. Pierre's the one who took you onto sh.o.r.e to get help. I guess he felt guilty.”
”Wait. So you have him in custody?”
Eldridge chuckled. ”He didn't feel that guilty,” he said. ”He took off as soon as an ambulance was called. But like I said before, he's not a violent person.”
I was lying there in the bed listening to Eldridge, but it was what I was seeing that proved more telling. The commissioner had the same look that he had when we first met in his office. He knew something I didn't.
Then it clicked for me.
”s.h.i.+t. He's an informant for you, isn't he?” I asked.
Eldridge nodded. ”Pierre's been very helpful on a few cases over the years. In return, I occasionally look the other way for him. But that's not why I'm sure he isn't a suspect,” he said.
With that, he handed me the envelope he'd been holding. My entire investigation was about to change. The trip to Turks and Caicos had just paid off.
Chapter 20
”ANYTHING TO DECLARE?” asked the customs agent at Kennedy Airport.
Yeah. If I never see another Jet Ski for as long as I live it will still be too soon. How's that?
Warner Breslow's pilot had given me his phone number to use when I was ready to go home. ”Just call me and I'll fly back down to pick you up,” he said. He a.s.sumed I'd be in Turks and Caicos for at least a few days, if not longer. So did I.
That was before I opened the envelope from Commissioner Eldridge.
By noon the next day, I was landing in New York and driving out to the Breslow estate in the Belle Haven section of Greenwich. The double vision from my crash was gone. So, too, were the tweeting birds circling my head. As for my bruised ribs, I figured if I could just avoid sneezing, the hiccups, and comedy clubs, I'd be able to muddle through.