Chapter Three
Willemstad, Curaçao, Dutch Antilles, present day
The deeply suntanned Englishman savored his coffee as he sat on the terrace of the Iguana Café. He gazed out over St Anna Bay, which separated the two halves of Willemstad, and watched locals and tourists negotiate the unique pontoon bridge that connected them.
Tom planned to walk over the bridge. He’d sit on the balcony of the Otrabanda restaurant and scrutinize the passengers disembarking from the cruise ship that was due to dock shortly. It was an old survival habit he couldn’t seem to break. The chances of a casual tourist recognizing him were slim to none. He had found a safe haven, far enough from the beaten track to afford him the anonymity and safety that he needed to survive – so he believed.
He scratched idly at t
