Chapter Thirteen
Willemstad, Curaçao, Dutch Antilles
It took Tom less than five minutes to reach his cottage. It was mid-terraced, and adjoining cottages prevented access to the rear of the property. The only way to access the back was to climb over the roof or the sea wall. Tom examined the door carefully. The toothpick was lying on the pathway in front of the door – it was flat and dirty as if someone had stepped on it.
Tom’s attention turned to the front windowsill. It was in need of painting, and a layer of dust covered the wooden frame. It had been recently disturbed, as if someone had climbed over it. Tom peered through the dusty window and looked at the latch. The window was unlocked. It could only have been unlocked from the inside, as the windowpane was not broken. It appeared
