Dead Men Don't Bite (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) (29 page)

BOOK: Dead Men Don't Bite (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series)
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“Roberts, it’s LJ. Are you alone?”

“Quite alone, sir. I’m just getting started on those
files you left for me to go through.”
“Well you can push those to one side, because I’ve
got something far more important for you to do.”
“They’re already pushed aside, sir.”
“Good, now listen up. Remember that old chap,
Albert Bishop who you spoke to before flying down from
London?”
“Of course. Nice old boy, why?”
“Well, he’s dead. Murdered, we suspect, by one
of Malakoff’s henchmen. But it does confirm one thing,
Roberts.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“That Malakoff’s association with Lord Oliver
Asquith runs much deeper than we had thought. And as
I suspected, Asquith has been keeping Malakoff very well
informed of all our movements. Most likely from the minute
I asked him to be involved with this project.”
LJ gave him a brief account of what had happened
the previous day, right up to Chapman’s boat exploding.
“But why is Malakoff going to all of this trouble
antagonising and it would appear attempting to kill you all
down there? And what is it that Lord Asquith wants to keep
secret?” Roberts said thoughtfully.
“That’s what I want you to find out, old son. Give
it your full and undivided attention, and dig as deep as
you can. I’d concentrate on the late Lord Asquith, and in
particular his financial affairs. You know the sort of stuff,
sums of money that were paid in or out on a regular basis?”
“What about MI5?”
“What about them?” LJ replied.
“Hasn’t Simon Digby been instructed to put the
Asquith file under lock and key?”
“Oh, that. Digby isn’t really interested in the late
Lord. Oh no, as I mentioned before, he’s more concerned
with the present Lord Asquith. He won’t give you any
problems, old son. And if he does notice that you’re
snooping around. Well, let’s cross that bridge as and when
we need to.”
“Very well, sir. I’ll get cracking on it right away.”
“Call me as soon as you find anything. Oh, and one
other thing, Roberts?”
“Yes sir?”
“Please stop calling me sir.”

* * *

LJ broke the connection, and said, “Right then,
that’s that taken care of. All that we have to do now, is stay
one step ahead of our friend Malakoff.”

Dillon stood leaning against the door frame, looking
out across the bay. “What I said about Malakoff, earlier.”
“What of it, old son?”
“Well, I’m assuming that he still needs us around to
find the location of the tunnel. Which raises the question,
why try to kill us all by blowing up Chapman’s boat? It
simply doesn’t make sense.”
“I’ve no idea, old son. But I’m sure that we’ll find
out soon enough.” LJ pressed the keypad on his mobile
phone, and a moment later was speaking to Sir Lucius
Stagg’s butler.
“Sir Lucius, please. Tell him it’s Edward LevensonJones.”
The line remained silent for an indeterminate
amount of time, while the butler went to find the former
Prime Minister.
“Edward, how’s it going down there in Jersey?”
“We’re making progress, Sir Lucius. Albeit slowly.”
“Let me guess, Hugo Malakoff giving you problems?”
“You could say that, Sir Lucius, he’s certainly keeping
us on our toes that’s for sure.”
“But that’s not why you called me, is it Edward?
After all, you’re more than capable of sorting the Frenchman
out.”
“Thank you, and as always, you perceive correctly,
Sir Lucius. My worst suspicions about Lord Asquith have
been confirmed. He’s informing Malakoff about our every
move, and has done so since the first time I spoke to him
about this affair.”
“And what is it you require of me?”
“I want to know if Asquith is still on the payroll
of MI5. And if he is, who is running him, and for what
purpose. Also, why has Simon Digby slapped a restriction
on the late Lord’s file?”
“Leave it with me, Edward.”
“But of course, Sir Lucius.”
“Oh, and by the way. How’s Dillon, behaving
himself, I hope?”
“You know what he’s like, Sir Lucius. As belligerent
and capricious as ever. But he’s keeping it very professional.”
“Good, because we don’t want him starting a small
war down there, do we. Good day, Edward.”
“Good bye, Sir Lucius.” LJ broke the connection
and went and stood next to Dillon in the open doorway.
“Tell me something?” Dillon asked. “You being
here. It was planned, wasn’t it?”
“What of it?” LJ replied, and then swigged back the
last of his drink.
“You’ve known for some time that it was Asquith
who was up to no good, haven’t you?”
“On reflection, I shouldn’t have involved Asquith at
all. But with the mystery surrounding this Spear of Destiny.
I had to have it confirmed by an expert. Unfortunately, he’s
the foremost authority on the subject. Just like his father
was all those years ago.” LJ paced around the living room,
his hands firmly placed behind his back as he spoke. “I
saw the look of shock in his eyes, you see. It was the very
mention of the spear, well it simply made him break out
in a sweat, couldn’t help but notice. But the clincher came
when I told him about the U-boat. That’s when I knew I’d
touched on something. I just didn’t have any proof.”
“Surely it was more than just a look in his eye that
made you suspicious?”
“Process of elimination, old son. After all, who
knows about this affair? Nathan Cunningham, Annabelle,
myself, Guy Roberts and Vince Sharp, you of course, and
Sir Lucius Stagg and the Partners. It could have been any
one of you. But why? As Hercule Poirot would have said,
there is no why, because none of you have a motive.”
“Which only leaves Asquith?”
“Asquith, and one other, old son.”
“So who is the other person?” Dillon asked.
“Haven’t got a clue, old son. But, that’s what I’ve got
Guy Roberts looking into. If anyone can find out, it’s that
young man. He’s got a nose like a ferret, that one. Now, if
you’ll excuse me, Jake. I’m going to take a walk down to
the harbour, and see if Chapman’s boat has been towed in
yet.”
“Good idea. Vince and I will walk down with you.
He wants to run a check through the power cruisers electrics
and engine management systems.” LJ raised an eyebrow,
and Dillon added, “Just in case our friend Malakoff has
sent his goon to tinker with it.”
“Oh, I see. Well we can’t be too careful, Jake.”
“That’s what we thought. Anyway, once we’ve done
that, I’ll drive across to the airport and collect Annabelle.”
Dillon said, as he slammed the front door to the Fisherman’s
Lodge, and walked with the others down the narrow lane
towards Bonne Nuit Harbour.

Chapter Thirteen

That afternoon Malakoff went for swim in Gifford
Bay, then sitting on the stern deck of the Solitaire, had coffee
and sweet almond cakes while he enjoyed the sunshine. Kurt
stood in the shade of the awning, just behind his employer.
He remained perfectly still, waiting in silence.

“I’m still curious as to exactly what it was, you
overlooked Kurt? After all, it’s unlike you to be so careless.”
“I was very thorough, Mien Herr.”
“So you say.” Malakoff said initially.
“I am a professional, I did exactly what was required,
Mien Herr. You must know this?”
At that moment Captain Armand came around the
corner on the starboard side. “I’ve just received a call from
our contact in Bonne Nuit, Monsieur. It would seem that
Chapman’s dive boat has just been towed in to harbour
by one of the local fishermen. They’re saying it exploded
about one mile off shore, and then capsized. Unfortunately,
Monsieur. Nobody was hurt, not even a scratch on any of
them.”
“Damn those swine to hell!” Kurt spat out the words
angrily.
“Have no doubt, gentlemen, they’ll see it soon
enough.” Malakoff stood up, went to the side rail and
stared out to sea. After a brief moment he returned to where
he’d been sitting, picked up his coffee cup and was about to
take a sip, when he changed his mind, and said to Armand.
“The Cunningham girl is flying back to the island on the
five fifty-five flight. Is this still the case, Captain?”
“Yes, Monsieur. That is correct.”
“Good. Well in that case, Kurt. I want you and Pierre
to go to the airport.” Malakoff took a sip of his coffee.
“Are we to bring her back to you, Mien Herr?”
“No. It would be far too dangerous, and quite
unnecessary. Simply find out what it is she knows, and then
get rid of her. Permanently.”
Kurt smiled, stood to attention, and said, “I will not
let you down, Mien Herr,” he then turned and left.
Armand stood waiting patiently for his orders while
Malakoff poured himself another cup of coffee.
“We’ll remain at anchor here in Gifford Bay, Captain.
But ensure that we’re ready for sea at a moment’s notice.”
“Yes, Monsieur.”
Malakoff nodded. “We may have to leave in a hurry.
But then again we may not. I’m not sure; it depends on how
Kurt and Pierre get on with the girl. In the meantime I’d like
you to get hold of Lord Asquith for me. Put him through to
this phone, the moment you are able to locate him.”

* * *

Oliver Asquith was handed the note by one of
his assistants. He casually glanced down at it, and then
immediately went back to addressing the British Museum’s
funding committee about his forthcoming expedition to
Jordan.

Five minutes later, Asquith was speaking to Malakoff
from his mobile phone.
“Hugo, I hope you’ve got good news for me?”
“My dear Oliver, it’s good of you to call me back.
How are you my old friend?”
“Harassed to hell, and then back again, thank you
for asking.”
There was a pause and then Malakoff said, “We’ve
found Albert Bishop. What a helpful fellow he was,
quite remarkable to have such a sharp mind at his age.
Remembered all sorts of interesting facts about his parents,
and how they looked after your father, and his Nazi friends
during the war years.”
“Well that’s the end of it then, isn’t it? I’m done for.”
Asquith blurted out.
Malakoff, knew that there was no point in trying to
placate Asquith, and said, “My dear Oliver, there is a time
and a place for melodramatics, and this isn’t it. Had you
let me finish, I was just about to tell you that the old man
accidentally fell down the stairs in the dark, and broke his
neck. One hopes that it was a quick death, and that he’s
gone to a far better place.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, Oliver, dead. Which is extremely lucky for you,
given the situation.”
“It was that thug of yours, Kurt, wasn’t it?”
“You really shouldn’t be so quick to point the finger,
Oliver. After all, that thug of mine has done you an immense
favour. Although, I’m afraid that the old man’s demise came
too late. You see, he’d already told everything he knew to
one of Levenson-Jones’ people, before Kurt helped him on
his way. It’s unfortunate that, but not a complete disaster.”
“LJ knows?” Asquith felt as if all the blood in his
body had drained out of him, and he slumped down in to
a nearby chair. “About my father and Hienrich Himmler?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But what are we going to do, Hugo?”
“Do, Oliver? You and I are going to do nothing,
except carry on as normal, with our daily business.”
“But, we have to do something, Hugo. They’re going
to ruin me, and possibly you as well in the process.”
“You misunderstand me, Oliver. Like I’ve just said,
we’re not going to do anything. However, there will be a
fatal accident involving, Levenson-Jones, Dillon, Chapman,
and that overweight computer geek they have with them.
That’s all you need to know, Oliver. The Cunningham girl is
flying back to Jersey late this afternoon, and apparently she
knows where the U-boat is located. I will send Kurt and my
first officer to the airport. Once they have the information,
she’ll be of no further use to us.”
“Good God, Hugo. You can’t be serious, it’s simply
not right you know?” Asquith implored, and felt a shiver
run up and down his spine. “Hugo, I’ve just had a dreadful
thought. I conduct all of my banking affairs on-line these
days. What if, one of his computer chaps were to hack into
my account, he’ll see the regular payments coming into the
account from you?”
“What do mean? Please explain yourself?”
“Well, I had to be able to keep track of the payments
that you make to me, Hugo. So I placed your initials next
to the payments. I know it was foolish of me, but I didn’t
know all of this was going to flare up.”
“You really are an extremely stupid fellow, aren’t
you Oliver? Do you have any idea, how much trouble I
went to in order to conceal the originating source of those
payments? One look at your account, will inextricably link
me to you.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“What’s done is done, Oliver. Have your bank run
a check on every computer that has accessed the account
within the last seventy-two hours. Tell them that it’s urgent,
because you suspect that someone has been attempting to
hack into the accounts. Once you have this information,
email it, immediately, to me on board the Solitaire. I’ll then
have my people in Paris run a check through our system.
Oh, and please ensure that the computer you use personally,
is switched on, and on-line. I’ll also have them run a check
through this machine at the same time. If someone has
gained access, it’ll show up.”
“Can you really do that, Hugo?”
“Oliver, as I’ve told you. I can do anything, to whoever
and whatever, I like.” Malakoff, broke the connection, and
walked to the side rail. He stood looking out across the bay,
thinking how it was becoming a habit, the frequency with
which he became involved with such stupid people.

* * *

By the time LJ, Dillon and Vince had walked down
to the harbour, Chapman had already arrived. He’d driven
down the cobbled slipway, and had parked his twin-cab
pickup down on the beach. There were five other men with
him, some were local fishermen, helping to winch the Wave
Dancer up onto the white sand. They’d righted the dive
boat, so that it could be dragged up on its hull out of the
water and, from where Dillon and the others were standing
high up on the sea wall, they could clearly see the jagged
hole that had been caused by the explosion, and where the
engine block should have been.

There were two other men standing on deck, one in
red overalls and a white hard hat, the other in denim jeans
and a short-sleeved blue check shirt. Chapman shut off the
power to the winch, and walked back up the slipway to
where Dillon and the others were standing. A moment later,
the man in the red overalls came up and joined them.

Chapman introduced them. “So what’s the verdict,
Chris?”
“Well, I’ve only taken a brief look at her, you
understand, Rob. And of course, I’ll know more once I’ve
been able to conduct a through inspection back at the
workshops. But, from the look of the engine bay, and the
size of the hole that’s been blown clean through the hull. I’d
say that someone had most definitely tampered with it, for
sure.”
“Could it have been explosives?” Dillon asked.
“Until I’ve taken a closer look, I can’t be sure. But,
in twenty-five years of inspecting marine wreckage, I’ve
only ever seen such precise damage, maybe once or twice.
On both occasions it was caused by plastic explosives. But,
that’s only speculation at this stage. We’ll haul her back to
St. Helier, and I’ll arrange the repairs, Rob, and keep you
posted.”
As he walked back down the slipway he was shaking
his head, and looking back said, “You chaps really were
very lucky.” and he went back down onto the beach to
supervise the lifting of the dive boat onto a long flat bed
lorry.

* * *

Dillon and Vince rowed the dingy out into the middle
of the small harbour. The power cruiser gently tugged at
its mooring rope as it rolled on the afternoon swell. Once
aboard, Dillon went immediately to the stern and started his
visual search for anything out of the ordinary. While Vince
plugged his computer into the boats on-board system, to
allow him to run a full diagnostic check of the engine power
management, and electrical circuits. This would show up
any tampering with, or changes made.

Dillon came out onto the dive deck, his shirt sleeves
rolled up, holding something in his hand. He shouted up to
Vince, who appeared a moment later out of the wheelhouse.

“Our old friend Semtex, Vince.” Dillon held up the
plastic explosive, “I found this pressed onto the hull inside
the forward locker.”

“Bloody hell, mate.” Vince exclaimed, “That’s
enough to blow up this boat and twenty others. What about
the detonator?”

“Short range remote type. I’d say about five hundred
metres would have done the job. Did your box of tricks find
anything?”

“Clean as a whistle.”

“In that case, let’s batten down the hatches and go
join the others.”
LJ and Chapman were sitting at a table overlooking
the beach at Annabelle’s Café when Dillon and Vince
arrived. Kate Jackson was fussing around the bar area,
making sure that everything was in its place, in readiness
for when Annabelle returned. When she spotted Dillon, she
came over, and asked them if there was anything she could
get them, and generally made polite small talk.
“I saw them pulling your dive boat out of the water,
Rob. That must have been a pretty big explosion to have
caused so much damage; I’d say you were all very lucky
to have got off without even a scratch. I mean, anyone of
you could so easily have been stood by that engine canopy,
couldn’t you?” And with that, she picked up her tray, and
walked away.
Dillon watched her disappear into the kitchen, before
he pulled out a small package that was wrapped in a white
plastic bag.
“What’s that, old son?” LJ asked, looking over the
top of his wire framed spectacles.
“Our old friend Semtex.” Dillon handed the bag to
LJ.
“So you were right, Jake, Malakoff does want us out
of the way. But why, and what will he gain from having us
killed?”
“Perhaps it has something to do with that old chap,
Albert Bishop.” Vince put in.
“I’m almost certain that has a part to play in this,
and of course Lord Asquith, will by now, know that we
know about his father’s involvement with Himmler. That,
Gentlemen, will send him into a complete spin, of that you
can be assured.” LJ said, and then added absentmindedly.
“But, I would have thought, that we still had our uses.”
“I’m convinced, that Annabelle will be our ‘Ace-upthe-sleeve’, once she arrives back on the island.” Chapman
told him.
“Well, let’s hope you’re right, old son.” LJ mused
sipping his tea.
Kate Jackson, arrived back a moment later with a
fresh pot of tea, cups and saucers, and an array of delicious
looking cakes.

* * *

When Malakoff called Asquith it was just before
five o’clock in the afternoon. “I’m afraid that I’ve got some
disturbing news.”

“After the day I’ve had, Hugo, what can possibly
be so bad?” Asquith was sitting in his private office at the
British Museum.

“It’s not the what, Oliver. It’s the who. And, I’m
afraid that your day is about to become much darker. You
see, I’ve just received confirmation from my people in Paris.
It appears, that the computer used to hack into your bank
account is located at the head office of, Ferran & Cardini
International.”

“You’re right, it couldn’t be worse,” Asquith said.

“However, they were also able to pinpoint the
person concerned, by simply hacking into their system, and
running a scan through the user files to determine which
terminal was used to gain access to your computer.”

“How bloody fascinating, Hugo. But how does that
help me?”
“His name is Guy Roberts, he’s on loan from MI5,
and is Levenson-Jones’ temporary assistant.”
“MI5? But I’m protected by them, by mere virtue
of the odd job, that I do for them from time to time in the
Middle East.”
“Well, don’t go doing anything stupid. Just keep
your cool, and everything will be fine Oliver.”
“But what if he’s spoken to Levenson-Jones, or the
Partners?”
“My dear Oliver, if you consider, for even the briefest
of moments, how long Levenson-Jones has most likely
suspected your role in all of this. He would only have had
to make a single telephone call to bring your world crashing
down around your ears. And, as for your little arrangement
with MI5. Well, why would he be interested in that? Oh
no, his suspicions about you and your father, only became
confirmed, after this Guy Roberts had spoken to Albert
Bishop. And I might add, it’s only since then, that he’s
instructed him to start poking his nose into your affairs.”
“So what next. Do I simply sit here, and wait for
them to come and get me, or what?” Asquith was near to
hysterics, and had to contain his anxiety.
“Once again, Oliver. You will do nothing, but go
about your usual daily business. I’ll have Mr Roberts taken
care of.”
“Please, Hugo. Not more killing,” Asquith moaned.
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“Please try and be grateful, for once in your miserable
little life, Oliver,” Malakoff sneered down the line. “After
all, it’s only for your sake, that I do these wicked things.
Once we locate the cavern, and that blasted diary of your
fathers we can prevent anything from coming out about the
past. As for Levenson-Jones, and the others. Well, as I said
before, they’re all going to meet with a fatal accident. The
bonus for us, Oliver, will be finding the original Spear of
Destiny, and of course the gold bullion.” Malakoff laughed
loudly into the telephone, and then added, “Don’t worry,
Oliver, everything is going to be alright, you just wait and
see.”
Malakoff broke the connection, and immediately
dialled another London number. He spoke slowly, and in
clear English.
“O’Rourke I have another dispatch job, which I
would like you to take care of tonight. The name is Guy
Roberts, MI5, currently on secondment to Ferran & Cardini
International. I’m sure you know the address. And, yes there
will be a further bonus of one-hundred thousand pounds on
completion.” Malakoff put the phone back into his pocket
and stood, for a moment, pondering on the situation that
he now found himself embroiled within.

BOOK: Dead Men Don't Bite (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series)
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