Free Under Suspicion by The Mulgray Twins Page A

airline case, was it stashed inside the safe? I pulled out my lipstick/camera. The close-up I took of the safe’s lock and the maker’s name might be useful if Gerry decided to send somebody to have a peek inside. We spent a few more minuteslooking round, but as far as drugs or incriminating papers were concerned, G and I again drew a blank.
    ‘Nothing more for us here,’ I said ushering G ahead of me, and off we went along the corridor to 323, Millie’s room.
    With that laid-back attitude of hers, I’d somehow expected to find the room a bit of a tip – clothes, make-up items, tourist bumf, bits and bobs scattered about. To my surprise, there were few personal items on display – beside the bed an alarm clock displaying world times, on a small table an open book face down, a few toiletries neatly arranged on the bathroom shelf and a laptop plugged into the wall. That last item would be worth investigating – once I’d had a rummage through the suitcase wedged between the bedside table and the wall.
    I watched G stroll around for a moment, then swung the suitcase up onto the bed. If it was locked, I’d be scuppered again. But this time I was in luck, the open padlock hung loose. Any great expectations were soon dashed, however. The suitcase held only a plastic carrier bag of laundry and a sealed carton of cigarettes. Didn’t look promising, but I summoned Gorgonzola for a second opinion.
    ‘Anything, G?’
    Gorgonzola peered in, yawned, then headed for the cat-carrier in a pointed reminder that it was late and she wanted to go home.
    I was closing the case when a laminated cardslithered out of a pocket in the lid. The word PRESS, the green NUJ logo, and Millie’s photo, name and membership number stared up at me. My heart sank. The last thing Operation Canary Creeper needed was a journalist stirring up murky waters, alerting Vanheusen and his mob that they were under investigation. Just how deep had she dug? If she hadn’t set a password on that laptop… I flipped it open, pressed the On button and waited.
    As I’d hoped, Millie had been careless. Without the security of a password, the machine powered straight up to the Windows desktop. I scanned the folder icons in My Documents. Vanheusen Dossier , now that was interesting…One click opened it. Drug Dealing, Exclusive Properties, Money Laundering, Tax Evasion, VAT Fraud . Millie’s investigations were spot on. I scented Trouble with a capital T. Gerry would not be happy.
     
    On the way back to La Caleta, I pondered the night’s interesting developments. I’d seen Rudyard Finbar Scott and Vanheusen in close conversation, though that was no proof that Scott’s money was for anything other than purchasing a property. We’d have our work cut out to prevent Millie Prentice from throwing a spanner into the works, but at least we could now remove her from our list of suspects. Best of all, I’d confirmed there was indeed a business connection between Vanheusen and Mansell. Andthat connection, from what I’d overheard, could very well be illegal.
    All in all, Operation Canary Creeper had made some progress. Yes, with a clear conscience I could submit an expenses chit for the hire of my mazarine blue silk outfit with its matching long-sleeved chemise.

Chapter Seven
    Two days later, Vanheusen summoned me to his office on the pretext of finalising the details of the Donkey Safari Outing – and made the move I’d hoped he’d never make.
    ‘Before you go,’ he handed me back the folder, ‘there’s something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you, Deborah.’ He leant back on the black hide sofa, his gaze wandering to the oil painting of Black Prince on the wall behind me. ‘Over the years I’ve amassed some interesting data on the Persian cat, felis persicus. Did you know that the Persians defeated the ancient Egyptians by using cats as weapons?’
    ‘Weapons?’ I had a vision of an ancestor of the Brute of Samarkand hurled from a giant sling,