I'm Virtually Yours (8 page)

“When that happens he always phones. Either to ask me to go along with him, or simply to let me know where and what he's up to. Unwritten rule of the boatyard. You never take chances with the river or the sea.” Ben shook his head in despair. “I don't know what to think.”

The policeman turned his attention back to Ben. “Coastguards have identified your workboat heading up channel. Unidentified person at the helm but would appear to be male. Not known whether there are any other persons on board. They'll keep us informed when they have any information.”

Ben's shoulders sagged. “What the hell is Will up to?”

“Trying to run from the law?” Jack Pettyjohn suggested with a sneer.

Ben made to lunge at him but the burly policeman quickly stood in the way. “That won't solve anything, Ben. Another couple of hours and we should have some answers. In the meantime I suggest—” He stopped speaking as a gasp from Polly caught his attention. “What is it?”

Polly pointed to the far end of the slipway where the incoming tide was swirling branches, boxes, leaves and other debris from the storm up against the wall.

“There's a body down there.”

 

Within seconds of Polly's words, the police had sprung into action. Ben, starting to go down the slipway, was forcibly stopped by the policeman who knew him.

“Sorry, Ben, it's down to us now. Why don't you go back to the yard and wait?” Turning away, the policeman spoke urgently into his radio asking for immediate assistance.

“I'm staying put,” Ben said. “It's my slipway.”

He glanced across at Polly. “Would you go and find Angie please? Ask her to stay with Lillian just in case… just in case there's bad news.”

“Of course,” Polly said, her heart racing. It couldn't possibly be Will floating face down in the rubbish as Ben clearly thought it might be. Or could it? Either way she didn't want to be here when the body was pulled out of the water.

Her mobile rang as she walked past the boatyard on her way to The Captain's Berth. Daniel Franklyn.

“Morning, Polly. Can you organise a meeting with the Robertsons for me tomorrow? At, say, half three at the boatyard? I've asked the lawyers to draw up the legal agreement for then. Can you collect it and have it ready for the meeting? Need you to be there too for notes and things.”

“You'll be here tomorrow?” Polly said surprised. So she would get to meet her employer after all. “I didn't realise you were planning to come here so soon.” She paused.

“Daniel, things have changed overnight. There's a major crisis going on here at the moment. I'm not sure the Robertsons are going to want a meeting with you tomorrow — or even be available for one.” Would Will have turned up by then? She was loath to tell Daniel Franklyn that one of his new business partners was missing, currently believed to be on the run from the police.

“What sort of crisis?”

“The police are about to fish a body out of the harbour.”

“Someone local?”

“Not identified yet,” Polly said, not wanting to voice the fear that it could be Will.

There was a short silence before Daniel said, “That's sad, but let's presume it's not going to turn out to be one of the Robertsons and arrange the meeting anyway, Polly. Business has to continue and I need to get signatures on paper. If the worst has happened…” Daniel paused. “We can always cancel the meeting.”

“OK,” Polly said wearily. “I'll try.” She closed her phone and prayed that Daniel was right in his assumption that it wasn't a Robertson body that had washed up on the slipway. She felt sick at the thought of it being Will.

Angie was in the kitchen when Polly reached the B&B. “I'll get Lillian and meet you back at the yard,” she said briskly, grabbing a jacket from the hook when Polly explained what was happening. “Solo and Rosie can stay here.”

Ten minutes later and the three of them were in the boatyard office with a despondent Lillian slumped on her office chair.

“Shall I make us some coffee?” Polly asked, desperate to do something. Anything to stop the dreadful thoughts about Will being dead. If she was finding the situation difficult, how much harder it must be for Lillian. Before anyone answered her, the ship-to-shore radio on the shelf crackled unexpectedly into life.

Lillian jumped up and flicked a switch. “Will? Thank God it's you.”

“Mum, is Dad with you?”

“No. What the hell is going on, Will? What are you doing out in the channel with the workboat?”

“You'll see when I get back to harbour. In the meantime go and find Dad. Both of you need to be out on the quay in about half an hour. You won't believe what's happened. I'll need to talk to the police later. I've got some information for them.”

“The police are keen to talk to you now,” Lillian said. “According to them you're in all sorts of trouble.”

“Mum, don't worry — I haven't done anything wrong. You and Dad are in for a big surprise but everything is fine.”

“Will, a body has been found off the slipway,” Lillian said quietly. “You know anything about that?”

The radio crackled and died. Frustratedly Lillian wriggled the switch up and down. Nothing. “Blast.”

“Shall I go and find Ben for you?” Polly asked but before Lillian had a chance to answer, Ben himself walked in.

“They've taken the body off for official identification and to do a postmortem.

It was Angie who voiced the question they all dreaded asking. “Well, we know it's not Will but is it anyone we know?”

“Black Sam,” Ben said.

“Poor man,” Lillian said. “I know he was working for Jack Pettyjohn but it's still sad when someone dies.”

There was a couple of seconds' silence before Ben asked, “Will's been in touch then?”

Lillian nodded. “He wants us both out on the quay in about half an hour for when he arrives back in the harbour.”

“Why?”

Lillian shrugged. “Maybe he wants to tell us something urgently?”

“Fat chance of us talking to him then. The police are waiting down there for him. They'll nab him the minute he steps ashore.”

The three women looked at him. “He's the prime suspect in case Black Sam was killed,” Ben said quietly. “The police are waiting to arrest him. They want to question him about the last time he saw Black Sam.”

They all turned as the office door opened and a policeman looked in to ask, “Jack Pettyjohn in here? No? Wonder where's got to.” The door closed.

“So did you and Will keep watch last night as planned?” Polly asked, trying to piece together the events of the previous evening.

“Will did,” Ben said. “I came ashore and left him settling in on the workboat. He was convinced for some reason that Pettyjohn was planning on using the bad weather to his advantage. Will was determined to try and get enough evidence to stop him once and for all.” Ben shook his head. “I just don't know what to think. The coastguards say no one contacted them asking for assistance after the storm so…” He shrugged. ‘What the hell he's doing out in the channel is anyone's guess.”

“He said earlier you and I were in for a surprise,” Lillian said.

“Surprise as in him being locked up?” Ben said.

Polly shook her head. “I'm sure Will doesn't have anything to do with Black Sam's death. He's…he's just not the sort.”

Ben looked at her. “I hope and pray you're right.” Polly flushed. She was defending Will to his own father but even though she'd known Will such a short time she knew instinctively it was true. She'd trust him with her life.

“Think we should go and wait on the quay,” Angie said looking at her watch. “Will did say half an hour.”

Ben grabbed the large pair of binoculars off the shelf as they left and locked the office door behind them.

Outside, a lone policeman was sitting in a patrol car, watching the harbour entrance. A cold wind was blowing, ruffling the water and making boats jangle around on their moorings. Polly shivered as she looked out to sea, willing Will to appear.

A strained ten minutes passed as everyone stood deep in their own thoughts, staring out to sea.

“Here he comes,” Ben said, the binoculars finally alighting on the workboat riding the waves as it made its way to the harbour entrance.

“Good grief! I don't believe what I'm seeing,” he said, his body rigid with shock.

“What is it, Ben? Can you see Will? Let me look,” and Lillian grabbed the binoculars off him.

“Will was right about a surprise. Look at the yacht following him in on the starboard side.”

“Oh my goodness.” Thirty seconds later Lillian lowered the glasses and looked at Ben.

“Is it really what I think it is?”

Ben nodded, a happy smile on his face. “Yes it really is the
Mary-Jane
sailing into her home port.”

As Ben had predicted, the moment Will stepped ashore, he was whisked away to ‘assist the police with their enquiries'.

“Don't worry, Mum,” he said to Lillian as he got in the police car. “I'll be back soon and explain everything.”

After watching their son being driven away, Ben put his arm around Lillian's shoulders. “There's nothing we can do for now. Best thing for us is to get to work as usual. Take our mind off things.”

 

CHAPTER TEN

 

Polly went back with Angie to The Captain's Berth and tried to concentrate on work. Opening her laptop she saw one of her regular customers, a businessman with links all over the world, had e-mailed several documents he wanted her input on. There was a P.S. at the bottom of his mail.

“Mentioned you to a mate of mine in the States recently. Dan Franklyn. Hope he put some work your way.”

So that was how Daniel had got her name. Quickly she typed a reply thanking the client for the recommendation.

Half an hour later she popped out to the local council offices to check some of their records before returning and spending an hour on the internet. The legal agreement between Worldsend and the Robertsons was being drawn up by the lawyers as Dan had said, but there were still a couple of things she needed to tie up for her report.

Some more work had come in from another of her original clients and she checked to see how much there was to do before deciding to sign off for a couple of hours. Work certainly seemed to be on the increase for her.

From her bedroom window she could see the
Mary-Jane
moored in the river, the small yellow quarantine flag fluttering in the breeze at the top of her main mast.

Angie had explained earlier that flying the yellow jack at the end of a sea crossing was just a courtesy thing these days, although the Harbour Master would probably go and check things out before whoever was on board came ashore. From her vantage point Polly couldn't see any activity on board
Mary-Jane
. In fact there was very little activity out on the river at all.

Angie insisted on giving Polly some lunch before they walked down together to the boatyard to see if there was any news about Will.

When they got there Will himself was already talking to Ben and Lillian. “Jack Pettyjohn's been picked up on the M4 near Exeter. Police initially stopped him for speeding in his Merc. Of course once they realised who he was he was arrested and is now on his way back to answer some questions about Black Sam.”

“It's too early to know what really happened to Black Sam,” Will continued soberly. “It could of course have been a simple accident but the police aren't ruling out foul play. They were really interested in what I could tell them about last night.”

“Yes, Will. About last night,” Ben said.

Will glanced at his dad. “After you left, I made some coffee and settled down in the wheelhouse. Nothing happened for a couple of hours then I saw someone rowing downriver toward the slipway. Pettyjohn and Black Sam in the tender dinghy from his yacht. Luckily the workboat camera batteries were charged and I managed to get a couple of photos — including one of the can of petrol in the bottom of the dinghy. Hope to hell they come out. Be no disputing the evidence then.” Will paused and looked at Lillian.

“They were making their way to set fire to the wooden day boats we'd left on the slipway waiting to be launched.”

Lillian gasped in horror.

“Seeing Pettyjohn start to climb from the dinghy onto the slipway with the can of petrol I decided enough was enough and switched on the searchlights from the wheelhouse before shouting at them.” Will laughed. “I spooked him so much he lost his balance and fell into the water. That was a good moment,” Will added, remembering the look on Jack Pettyjohn's face as he'd fallen.

“By the time Black Sam had pulled him back into the dinghy the air was blue. It got a lot bluer too when I told them I had photographic evidence and intended going to the police with it. The things they threatened to do to me personally were…let's say, not fit to be repeated. But I figured they weren't about to set fire to anything, seeing that Jack was soaked through and I'd rumbled what they were up to, so I decided to leave them to it.”

“Good decision,” Lillian said quietly. “So you don't know how Black Sam ended up dead in the river?”

Will shook his head. “No. But I suspect Jack Pettyjohn does. He'd already threatened him for failing to do exactly what he wanted.”

“But I still don't understand why you took off down channel?” Ben said.

“I'd switched the ship-to-shore on for five minutes before I went to sleep and I heard the skipper of the
Mary-Jane
talking to the coastguards saying he was making for here. Spur of the moment thing — I decided to take a look and see if it was ‘our'
Mary-Jane
.”

“You could have told us what you were up to,” Lillian said. “Not knowing where you'd vanished to was scary — particularly when Black Sam's body was found and the police suspected you were involved.”