“The other pilots were fired too?” Lauren asked.
“Yes, replaced by Chinese men working for a company called HatchCo, Hatcherly Consolidated.”
Hearing the word Chinese jolted Mercer. Jean Derosier said that the man buying up the canal memorabilia at his auction was a Chinese businessman with ties to Panama.
Roddy continued. “That’s how I know about that helicopter. Captain Vanik told me the identification number you saw. It belongs to Hatcherly.”
“Is Hatcherly a Chinese company?” Mercer asked, to verify his suspicion.
“It’s headquartered in Shanghai. The local president is named Liu Yousheng. He’s about my age, but I understand he has a lot of power in the Chinese government as well as an enormous personal fortune. All of the new pilots are Chinese. In fact, most new canal employees are Chinese as well.”
“HatchCo isn’t the company that owns the ports at each end of the canal, are they?” Lauren asked.
“No, that firm is based in Hong Kong, although rumors about their control by the Chinese government run rampant. Hatcherly owns a smaller container port facility in Balboa that was once a United States Navy base. They bought it for one-tenth its value through bribery and intimidation that no one seems willing to investigate. HatchCo also got a lucrative contract to provide pilots and other canal employees. They’re supposed to hire locals but most jobs now are filled by Chinese immigrants.” His tone had become bitter. “Our union makes appeals to the new canal director, Felix Silvera-Arias, but he does nothing.”
“How do you know HatchCo owns the helicopter?”
“The identification number you and Captain Vanik saw,” Roddy answered. “The last letters are HC. Hatcherly owns a number of helicopters. You see them all over the Canal Zone. All have ID numbers ending in HC. They have a huge security force around their complex so I doubt someone stole their chopper.”
Lauren put into words what was burning in all their minds. “They’re the ones behind Ruben’s murder and the mutilation of Mr. Barber’s team.”
“And damned near killed us at the lake with the depth charges,” Mercer added, gratified to finally have focus for his anger. “We can probably add the attack on me in Paris to the list. I can’t believe that the three Chinese professionals who went after me aren’t linked to Hatcherly.” He still didn’t know the identity of the gunman who shot the street kid they’d hired to snatch the journal for them. “Harry, do you have the Lepinay diary?”
“It’s down in the hotel’s safe,” his friend replied, mixing himself a fresh drink.
“Good idea.”
“It was Lauren’s.”
Mercer’s urge was to have Harry fetch the journal so he could read it immediately. Somewhere within its pages there was a key to what was happening. Why else would someone try to kill him to get it? Yet he currently had an advantage his adversaries didn’t know about. The fact that their actions at the lake had been witnessed. They didn’t know he was now on their trail.
Hatcherly’s director in Panama, Liu Yousheng, didn’t have the Lepinay journal, nor could he be sure that the man his assassins had chased into the Paris sewers had emerged on the other side with it. Mercer could imagine Liu writing off the diary and putting the whole affair out of his head. The businessman also didn’t know that the very same witness at the lake had the journal now. This gave Mercer room to maneuver. It would still be a few days before he felt strong enough to pursue Hatcherly Consolidated and Liu Yousheng. He wanted to use that time gathering as much information as he could about the Chinese company and there were two people in the room who could help. If they were willing.
“Roddy, how much has Lauren told you about what happened at the lake?”
“We’ve all had several days waiting for you to regain consciousness to tell each other our stories, even how Harry lets you live in his Washington town house, although I don’t think I believe that part.”
Mercer laughed and shot the innocent-looking Harry a hard glance. “He just acts like it’s his place.”
“If you are going to ask me if I am willing to help, the answer is yes.” Herrara’s normally affable expression hardened. His brows sharpened over his dark eyes with a chilling ferocity. “Carmen and I talked about this after Captain Vanik first helped Harry find us. When she asked me if I happened to know anything about the helicopter and I realized that Hatcherly is involved, I knew I had to help. That is why she and I have taken in Miguel, so you don’t have to worry about him when you go after these bastardos. It is because of them I no longer have a job. We have been living on savings, hoping the union can get me reinstated. I’m trying to sell my boat and we will lose our house if nothing changes.”
“I can pay you—” Mercer began but saw how he had stepped on Roddy’s pride. He covered quickly. “—to watch Miguel until we can find his relatives in Miami.”
Shaking his head, Roddy replied, “What is one more small mouth when you already have to feed three.” But he knew that Mercer was trying to help his family and he desperately needed the money. “I will accept for the boy’s sake.”
“I need to be honest here, Roddy. These guys are ruthless. I’ll keep you out of danger as best I can, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
“You don’t understand, Dr. Mercer,” he countered. “That I may be in danger is exactly what Carmen and I discussed. I know the risks.”
“Thank you.” Mercer turned to Lauren Vanik. “I know you have duties to perform for the embassy, but we could use all the help we can get.”
Lauren twisted her arm over to look at her watch. “As of three hours ago, I am officially on a one-week personal leave. It means I have to give up a vacation to visit my brother in San Francisco next month, but I think this is worth it.”
Mercer captured her eyes with his. “I’ll make it up to you.” In just a few days, the two of them had been through a lifetime and he felt something more than gratitude.
“As for my part,” Harry said, distracting Mercer and Lauren from the look they’d just exchanged. “I will continue to host everyone here in the palatial suite Mercer has so generously given to me when I’m not otherwise entertaining the señoritas.”
“First of all, you decrepit lecher, the only way you’d get a señorita in here is if you paid her—”
“Ah, but prostitution is legal in Panama.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m paying for the suite so it’s mine. You are welcome to stay but if you bring a hooker in here I’ll hide your Viagra.”
“I do not use Viagra!” Harry roared. “Very often.” He turned to Lauren with a wink. “Actually it’s Mercer who pops those pecker pills like candy. It’s made his blood so thin it takes an hour for a shaving nick to stop bleeding. Quite tragic really, young man like him.”
Mercer could see that it hadn’t taken Harry long to charm Lauren. He had that way about him, part stray dog and part Fred Astaire. Before Harry could go any further, Mercer got them back on track. “What do we know about Hatcherly?”
“Quite a bit.” Lauren pulled a notebook from the knapsack she used as a purse. She opened up to the first page. “Once we knew it was their chopper, Roddy and I hit on our sources.”
“I have a cousin who works at their container facility,” Rodrigo offered. “He’s a forklift driver. One of their token Panamanians who’ll probably lose his job soon.”
Lauren checked her notes. “Their facility is fifty-seven acres, with seven thousand feet of berthing space for ships. They plan to add perpendicular slips to triple the frontage but for now they just have a long seawall. While they can handle about two hundred thousand containers a year, they’ve done very little business since opening. According to Roddy their fees are almost double their competition’s.”