The Abigail Affair (17 page)

Almost true.

“So you went into the cold room. Was anyone inside?”

“No.”

“So why did you start poking around in the supplies?”

“To be honest, I was starving. What with serving the guests and getting the ship ready to undock, I hadn’t had any breakfast. I just thought I would help myself to a biscuit.”

“And when you opened the carton labelled biscuits, you found plastic bags of cocaine.”

“Exactly. I made a hole in a bag and put a tiny bit on my finger to be sure it wasn’t just salt or something wrongly labelled on the outer box. But I knew what it was from the movies, and I’d tried the stuff just once at a party. Just a sniff. Never again. I don’t even do dope. Anyway, at that point I decided to get off the ship as soon as possible. I didn’t want to be involved in anything like that.” Toby felt sweat trickle down his chest. He was telling a hugely edited version of the truth. He hadn’t actually lied much, but he hadn’t told the whole truth either, not by a very long way.

The captain leaned back in his chair and put his fingers together. “So you took your findings to this Julia woman, to whom you reported.”

“Yes,” Toby said. “I told her about the cocaine. I don’t know what she did with the information. I assume she told Scott, the first officer, because next thing I know, I’m being held prisoner.”

“They locked you up?”

“Yes, in the linen store. You can go there and see where I pissed in a box of towels because they wouldn’t let me use the toilet.”

Gill Boyd wrinkled his nose. “Thank you for the invitation. So then what?”

“They launched the ship’s tender, a white RIB, while still at sea. Scott put me in it and they drove me to some beach somewhere. I don’t know where it was. And there they turfed me out and high-tailed it back. I walked around, but I couldn’t get off the shore—it was too steep. There were rocky headlands at each end of the beach. Then I saw an empty fishing boat at anchor a little way off. I got to it and stole it.”

“Why?”

“I was getting thirsty and thought I could row along the coast until I came to a settlement where I could get help.”

“But instead?”

“The current caught me and took me straight out to sea. You found me. The rest you know. How
did
you find me, by the way?”

“I’m asking the questions, Toby, if you remember.” Boyd sighed and pursed his lips. “You’re still not telling me everything. Why would anyone take a young deckhand and put him ashore in the middle of a passage?”

“I wish I knew,” Toby said. “I guess they had me marked down as a troublemaker, and the Boss just went, like, get him off my ship, I don’t care how. Now can I make a phone call to my family? I’m the victim here, and I keep getting treated like a criminal all the time.”

At least that was true enough
, Toby thought to himself.

“Later. Don’t get pompous with me, and don’t read me your rights. From what I gather, no one is missing you at present. Your family think you’re on the yacht, and the yacht crew think you’re cooling your heels ashore somewhere. Let’s leave everyone happily in the dark for now.”

“What are you going to do with me?”

“I can’t just put you off at the next stop. If your story is true, we need to check up on this
Amelia
. If your story is not true, then you’re a coke merchant and I need to find out about your supply chain. We found you adrift in a local boat with cocaine on your skin. What do you expect, a clean change of underwear, a bacon-and-egg breakfast, and a flight back to Gatwick?”

“That would be very nice, sir,” Toby said. His mouth watered at the mention of the bacon and egg. A change of clothing and a hot shower would be very welcome, too. He said, “What I told you is true.”

The captain drummed his fingers on the table. “Where was the
Amelia
bound when you were on board?”

“I don’t know. I asked, but no one told me. That’s the kind of ship they run.”

“Why did they let you go with a mobile phone in your pocket?”

“Julia slipped it to me as they were taking me off the yacht. I never got a signal on it.”

Boyd got up and went towards the door, where an intercom device was mounted on the wall. He pushed a button and said simply, “Come in now.”

A second later, the door opened. Another officer came in, a very short man. He had fewer stripes on his shoulder than Boyd. Toby guessed he was a lieutenant commander. He wore a tie, unlike the captain, and had a great mop of black hair, like a helmet, very sleek and glossy.

Boyd said, “We want to find a Russian-flagged gin palace called
Amelia V
. It might well be in this area still, so try the old-fashioned way first and see if you can raise her on Channel 16. Failing that, fire up the regular, and then the space, AIS.”

At the mention of
Amelia,
the junior officer seemed to tense for a moment. “Pardon me, sir, this time of year there are dozens of these things down here, most of them going to St Bart’s or Antilla.”

“I know, which is why we’ll try the easy way first.”

“Yes, sir.” The lieutenant commander saluted and exited briskly.

The interruption had given Toby a moment to gather his thoughts. It was time for him to take the initiative, he decided.

“Sir, if we find the
Amelia
…”

“When,” Boyd said. “We’ve got plenty of ways to find her. We can read Automatic Identification System, or AIS, transponders from here, provided they’re no more than forty or fifty miles away, or from anywhere in the world from space via the low-orbit COMDEV satellites. Super new kit.” Boyd rubbed his hands together. He really did look too young to be doing this.

“
Amelia
has AIS,” Toby said. “I used it to display the ships out at sea on the chartplotter.”

“Yes, every large ship has it. The transponder squawks out the vessel’s name, type, destination, course, speed, cargo and so on, using good old VHF.

“Then if they use any commercial satellite service, like Inmarsat or Globalstar, we can have them in moments, and just ring them up and ask them where they are. If they don’t answer, we’ve got lots of other hairy-arsed kit I can’t even begin to tell you about.”

“
When
we find her, can I come aboard with you and take you to the drugs?”

Boyd paced around the little cabin, his hands behind his back. “I doubt they will be where you said. What would you do if you were carrying illegal narcotics on your ship and you got wind that you were about to be searched by the Royal Navy?”

Toby hung his head. “Dispose of them, I guess.” He pondered for a moment. Then a thought struck him. “But why tell them you’re coming to search them?”

“Pretty obvious. What else does the Royal Navy do in the Caribbean outside the hurricane season?”

“Rescue people.”

The captain thought for a moment. Then a little smile played on his lips. “I get the idea. Nice. We just tell them we found you and are returning you to the comfort and safety of your berth. Then they might not be alarmed and not bother to hide the stuff.”

“Worth a try,” Toby said. “Then you just arrest the ship or sink it or whatever.”

“Depends what we find,” said Boyd. “A stash of marijuana or even some coke for private use is illegal, of course, but to seize the vessel would be disproportionate unless I feel it is being used for trafficking. We might not find anything at all. Or we might just get a screech on the Coke-ometer in a guest cabin. Then what do we do with you? Leave you on board and wave goodbye? Anyway, what if you’re the culprit and brought the stuff on to the ship? They won’t be too pleased to have you back. And I won’t be too pleased to let you go. Young Toby, you have placed me in a right dilemma.”

The captain resumed his pacing. Then suddenly he said, “Stay here. I’ll have some grub sent in. Let’s see how quickly we can speak to the
Amelia
. I’m inclined to believe your story in parts. I don’t think you’ve told the whole truth, though.”

Too right
, Toby thought. He kept thinking about the dead girl on the beach back at the islet. If anyone found her and linked her to Toby or the
Amelia
, he would be in the shit. Also, the two fishermen would be reported missing any time soon. That would result in a Coastguard search.

Toby’s best bet was to lead the Navy to the cocaine in the chill room. Then he would be off the hook and the Navy could ferry him ashore to get a flight back home, and his nightmare would be over.

A short while later, the door opened and a rating brought in a plastic tray piled with food. It looked like fish and chips. The rating placed the tray down. Yes, a taste of the homeland. Good old cod. Next to it, a bowl of something stodgy covered in custard. And a large steaming tin mug of tea. The rating produced a key ring and unlocked Toby’s cuffs. “There you go,” he said, and left the room. Toby heard the key turn in the lock.

He set to his food with relish. He hadn’t had anything decent to eat for so long, he thought he had forgotten how to chew. But he got stuck in and polished everything off greedily.

Just as he was running his spoon around the pudding bowl for the second time and wondering if he could put his head in it and lick it clean, the lock turned and the door opened again. This time it was the lieutenant commander. “We got lucky. We hailed the
Amelia
on the good old VHF and they came back. They’re less than sixty nautical miles away. We’re heading for their position now. We told them we found you adrift. They sounded delighted.”

“I bet,” Toby said.

“Looks like you finished your grub. The captain has briefed me and put me in charge of you. Let’s get you cleaned up a little and ready for the boarding party.”

Toby got up. “That was the best meal I’ve had since I left London,” he said. He was starting to feel his old self again.

“We try to carry our home comforts with us. Come along and we’ll find you something clean to wear.”

Thirty minutes later, Toby had showered, shaved, and felt better than he had for days. The water had been hot and stung his various bruises and lacerations, but it had been worth it. They had given him a pair of trainers. Not a designer brand, not cool and with no features, but they fit, cushioned his bad toe, and would have to do. He had been anxious about the fate of his Stone Island trousers. A crewman had found him a kitbag for his rancid clothing, which he now carried. He wore a boiler-suit garment of some sort over a fresh white T-shirt.

On deck in the balmy night air, Toby stood at the rail next to the precise, dapper little lieutenant commander, whose name was Smithers, according to his badge. His big hair was extraordinary, almost like a helmet moulded in fibreglass.

“How long till we see the
Amelia
?” Toby asked. The naval vessel powered through the calm night, and the deck and handrail vibrated slightly.

“Any time now,” Smithers said. “We’ve got them on the radar. They are just making way, dead slow, waiting for us. Now, Toby, what are we going to find on board? How many crew and guests?”

“Five crew and four guests,” Toby said.

“Is the owner on board?”

“Yes, he’s a shambling Russian bear called Krigov. But he’s not technically Russian, though his ship flies a Russian flag. He is actually from Tsazakhstan, a landlocked independent Republic in Eurasia, bordering Afghanistan and Kazakhstan, among others, newly wealthy –”

Smithers raised a hand to silence him.

Toby said, “Sorry ... I thought as it was a landlocked country, and not very well known, you might not have heard of it in the Navy. You’d have no cause to go there.”

Smithers laughed, a short sharp bark. “Jesus H Christ. Where did they teach you to speak like that? Just tell me who else is on board.”

“There is this mate of his, a quiet, nerdy man in specs called Walther.”

“Do you know his surname?”

“No, they never mentioned it. Then there are the two girls.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Toby realised he had better be very careful what he said. One slip-up could incriminate him in Irina’s disappearance.

“The girls were using cocaine?”

“Yes, snorting away like a couple of porkers. They were introduced as actresses, but they were hookers, I would say, and not even very high-class ones.”

“You’ve experience of such things?” Toby turned his head and saw Smithers had raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“I have now,” Toby said.

“So what did they look like, these two hookers?”

“Drunk, stoned, but not stupid. Blonde, both, with big hair. Small noses, good figures. Quite alike. Hell, I wonder if they were sisters? One had a tattoo in between her breasts, a little bird or butterfly or something. I didn’t get a close enough look.”

Pants on fire!
Toby thought.

“I still don’t understand why they put you off the ship,” Smithers said. “You were likely to be found somehow. At least, if you hadn’t set off rowing and got into the current, you would have been.”

“It makes no sense to me, either,” Toby said. He grasped the handrail in front of him with both hands. “You will protect me, won’t you? These are vicious dudes.”

“We’ll go aboard armed, but no one messes with the Royal Navy in these waters. Out in the Persian Gulf, in the Red Sea, maybe a madman would take a pot at us. But we do have a backup of a very big gun up front, which can cut a fishing boat in two in about a millisecond like a chainsaw. I guarantee your safety on the
Amelia
.”

“I meant, you won’t leave me on board, will you? They’ll kill me for sure this time.”