by Kate Genet
Everyone nodded again, this time in agreement. ‘It’s a good idea,’ the woman said. ‘This is hard on all of us, but especially the kiddies and the oldies, I think.’
‘And the animals,’ another of the passenger’s piped up. ‘All my cats ran away. It took me five hours to find them.’
Danny placed a hand in front of his mouth so she wouldn’t see the laugh he had to bite back on. What sort of person spent five hours looking for a bunch of cats? He found a sympathetic expression instead. ‘Our dog hid under the house. We couldn’t get him to come out for ages.’ He looked down. ‘Could we, Rose?’ She didn’t stir, which was good.
‘What happened to him?’ the cat lady asked. ‘Where’s he now? You haven’t got him with you.’
Good point. ‘He broke a leg,’ Danny said. ‘We had to leave him with the vet, but they promised they’d take good care of him.’
The cat lady looked at him like he’d committed a major crime and he turned away as though he wanted to see what the harbour looked like.
It looked seafoam green and cold. The colour of seaweed and the green drink his mother had made for herself every morning. He closed his eyes on the scene. Spirulina, that had been it. The name of the drink. She’d let him taste it one day when he’d been six or so. It was disgusting, and he’d thrown up right there in the kitchen.
Rose stirred in her sling and made a choked, mewling sound. Danny tucked his cheek down on the top of her warm head and stood there waiting for the ferry, tapping his foot, watching the sky darken toward evening, wondering where the day had gone and feeling the minutes tick by.
71
Claire’s phone rang, and she snatched it up. ‘Dad?’
‘He’s on the dock waiting for the ferry to Diamond Head.’
She wanted to ask several questions, but in reality, her father had just given her all the information she needed.
‘Excellent,’ she decided. ‘We’ll go get him.’
‘Good. Take care, Claire. Bring Rose back safe.’
She didn’t bother to reply. Just hit end, put the phone away and looked over at Moana.
‘He’s on the jetty waiting for the ferry across the harbour.’
‘What?’ Moana’s eyes widened in surprise, but she was already turning towards the wharves. ‘Which one is it?’
‘B jetty. Norwich Quay, Oxford Street overpass. I suggest we drive right down to the wharf.’ She looked across at Moana. ‘You can arrest him, right? Put him in handcuffs?’ She hadn’t seen anything like that hanging about Moana’s person. She wasn’t wearing a uniform, and Claire didn’t even know if that was usual for her or not.
But Moana simply nodded and turned another corner. ‘It’s down here, isn’t it? Norwich Quay?’
Claire took a quick look around. ‘Yes, this is it.’
‘Okay, so we’ll park close, approach him nice and gently. We don’t want to spook him into doing something stupid, and we don’t have back up. It’s just you and me, kid.’
That put a tight smile across Claire’s face. She nodded, thought of Rose being hurt, then pushed the image from her mind. Nice and gentle. She could do a nice and gentle approach. She’d do whatever needed to get Rose back and Danny off the street.
A minute later, they were on the overpass, then down to the dock area, edging as close as they could to the jetty where one of Frank’s many friends had spotted Danny Fry.
‘This will do,’ Moana said. ‘Ready?’
Claire nodded.
‘All right. Just remember that securing Rose’s safety is our first priority. We’re not going to do anything to jeopardise that. So bear it in mind with every decision, okay? Rose comes first.’
Claire was good with that. She didn’t much care what happened to Danny, as long as he didn’t have Rose, and didn’t have access to any other little girls. But she’d be happy to take Rose away from him first and foremost.
With a nod, she got out of the car, took a deep breath of the salty air, and squinted into the dusk at the jetty. Somehow, the day had slipped towards evening and she could feel the stress and fatigue pulling at her muscles.
But her mind was sharp, thoughts all hard-edged and clear and she knew from experience that it was enough to keep everything going. She was used to long hours, difficult conditions.
They fell into step with each other, both silent. Claire could feel Moana’s calm focus beside her and admired it. Then she turned her attention to what lay ahead of them.
The ferry was out on the harbour, a dark speck coming closer. They both quickened their pace, needing to get to Danny before he could board.
She could see him now, a slim man, his face darkly shadowed with stubble.
‘He’s got Rose in some sort of sling,’ Moana said.
That explained the bulge around his middle. Claire nodded.
‘We’re going to walk calmly up to him,’ Moana continued, reaching into a pocket and bringing out her police ID. ‘I'm going to tell him he’s under arrest for breaking and entering. That shouldn’t spook him too much.’
‘He’s cocky,’ Claire said. ‘It might even amuse him.’
A shrug from beside her. ‘Whatever. I just want him to come along quietly. I’ll put handcuffs on him and you get Rose off him. She will go into your care, if that’s all right, and when he’s in the car, we’ll arrange an ambulance for her.’ Moana’s eyes were dark in the advancing dusk. Claire nodded.
He saw them coming. Turned, maybe at the sound of their footsteps on the wooden planks of the jetty and stared at them.
Then he was running towards them, veering to the other side of the jetty, pushing past them before there was even time to register that he was running.
‘Shit,’ Claire heard Moana say, but she didn’t answer, she was already moving, feet thumping on the boards, then out onto the road, only a few steps behind him. His face was fastened in her mind, the wild-eyed expression, unshaven, dark shadows pouched under his eyes.
She almost had him, reached out, fingertips only centimetres away from the back of his jacket. He veered suddenly to the right, jumped down some steps and was away, running along beside the harbour.
But she was still behind him, concentrating on the sound of her footsteps, keeping her breath even, staying in her body, chasing him, gaining on him.
They skirted the wharves, water on their right, a few boats looming over them in the gathering dusk. She pumped her legs harder, and suddenly he was there, in reach, and her fingers grazed the fabric of his jacket, touched it again, then grabbed on and she swung him around, her own body turning so that they faced each other, chests heaving.
Something glinted in the darkening evening and Claire’s breath caught in her throat. She stood there beside the water, her body automatically still, eyes watchful.
Moana pulled up in the car beside her and from the back seat, Pilot set up a cacophony of barking. Claire didn’t glance at either of them, simply kept still, watching Danny, gaze fixed on his face.
‘Police, Danny,’ Moana said, coming around the front of the car, stepping towards him. ‘How about giving Rose to us so we can make sure she’s okay?’
He twisted the knife so that it caught the last rays of the dying sun and Claire felt Moana’s jolt of shock. ‘Get back,’ he growled. ‘And stay back, or she gets it.’
Moana raised her hands. ‘Easy, Danny. We don’t need anyone to get hurt. None of this is necessary. Put down the knife and we can talk about it, okay?’
Claire watched him shake his head and the knife slipped closer to Rose’s delicate neck. He’d tugged back the blanket from her head and one hand was in her hair, pulling her head back.
The other held the knife, its sharp point only a breath away from Rose’s neck.
‘Danny,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to do this. Rose is your little girl. You love her.’
His gaze shifted from Moana to her. ‘You,’ he spat. ‘I should have known you’d be behind this persecution of me. I’ve done nothing wrong, you
know.’
‘Then you’ve nothing to be worried about,’ Claire replied. ‘So how about putting the knife down so we can talk about this properly. You’re scaring Rose.’ The little girl was frozen in place, her eyes huge dark shadows above the knife.
‘Rose is fine,’ he said, and his eyes flicked towards the car. ‘Shut that dog up, will you?’
Pilot was barking and scratching large paws against the glass, trying to get himself out of the car. ‘He’s worried about Rose, Danny,’ Claire said. Her voice was calm, soothing. ‘That’s all.’ She drew a breath. ‘Tell me what you want to do.’
He looked around suddenly, jerking his body with him as he turned one way then the other, the knife stepping closer to the tender skin under Rose’s chin.
‘On there,’ he said.
‘What?’ Claire didn’t understand.
‘Danny,’ Moana said. ‘Let’s deal with this sensibly. We need to take care of Rose. We all care about her.’
A smile spread across Danny’s face that had Claire’s blood running cold. She’d seen crazy before, and Danny had just edged over into it. Their eyes met for a moment, then he blinked and turned toward Moana.
‘Open up the boot,’ he said, nodding toward the car.
‘What?’ she said, and Claire saw her eyes dark and confused in the shadows.
‘The car boot,’ Danny repeated, speaking slowly. ‘Open it.’ He blinked towards the car. ‘And keep that damned dog in there. Let it out and Rose gets it.’
‘No one’s letting the dog out, Danny,’ Moana assured him.
‘Open the boot,’ he repeated.
‘Why?’
The knife pressed against Rose’s pale skin and Moana held her hands up again. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Stay calm, Danny.’
He wasn’t anywhere close to calm anymore, and Claire bounced on the balls of her feet, perfectly balanced, waiting for a chance, any chance, to get the knife off him.
But it wasn’t budging from its position against Rose’s vulnerable neck.
Moana walked around to the back of the car, opened the boot.
‘Get in,’ Danny said.
‘What?’ There was almost comical surprise in Moana’s voice.
‘This isn’t the movies, Danny,’ Claire said. ‘Let’s just all take a deep breath and figure this out properly.’
His eyes swivelled towards her and he bared his teeth like a wild animal.
‘Shut up Claire,’ he said. ‘It’s my way or the highway.’ He turned back to Moana. ‘Get in the boot,’ he said.
‘No!’
‘I think yes,’ he said and looked down at his daughter. ‘Sorry Pumpkin,’ he said conversationally. ‘This lady doesn’t seem to care about you at all.’ He drew the knife in a short line against her skin and Rose cried out.
‘Stop!’ Moana said. ‘All right. I'm getting in.’
‘Wait,’ Danny said. ‘I almost forgot.’ Blood was welling up against Rose’s pale skin. ‘Empty your pockets first. Phone and keys and whatever else you have can go on the ground.’
Claire watched Moana blink at him, then do what he said. Everything went on the asphalt at her feet, then she climbed awkwardly into the boot. Danny turned to her.
‘Claire. You do the honours, I think.’
She wanted to strangle him. She was tired of Danny Fry. But he had Rose strapped to his chest and his left hand was still tangled in her red curls. She walked over to the car, put her hands on the boot lid and mouthed a single word at the police woman.
Sorry. Then she closed the boot.
‘Give it a tug so I can see you did it properly.’
Claire did as she was asked. ‘What are you planning, Danny?’ she asked.
He looked around the wharf again. ‘We’re going to go for a little ride,’ he said.
72
Claire didn’t know how Danny planned to stop the dog from eating him, if they were going to get in the car. Pilot was still barking furiously from behind the window. There was dog spittle on the glass. She stooped to pick up the car keys.
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Won’t be needing those.’
She straightened slowly, left the keys where they were, looked at him.
He was smiling and the hand that had held Rose’s hair in such a tight grip loosened, stroked it instead, and watching him, Claire thought that was somehow even more disturbing.
Danny looked like he was enjoying himself.
‘After you,’ he said, making a sweeping gesture at the boat docked alongside them.
She gaped at it, then at him. ‘Are you crazy?’ she asked, the words bursting out of her before she could censor them.
He laughed. ‘Ah the famous Claire Wilde finally loses her cool.’ The laughter stopped abruptly, and the knife went back to its snug position against Rose’s neck. ‘You better believe I'm serious, Claire,’ he said. ‘What’s the use of having the company of a world-class sailor if you can’t go for a boat ride together?’
‘You’ve fucking well lost your marbles, Danny,’ Claire said, and looked from man to boat.
‘Bet the keys are just hanging there inside waiting for us. I’ve heard you boaties are a bit relaxed about things like that.’
She honestly didn’t know what to reply. ‘It’s a pilot boat,’ she said. An old one, from the look of it, but still a big, official boat. And not a yacht, which she knew far more about.
‘Don’t know what that is and don’t care,’ Danny replied. ‘Just climb aboard, Claire Wilde, and let’s get underway, what do you say?’
There was a great deal Claire wanted to say, but even in the fading light, she could see the knife’s point planted far too near Rose’s neck. One wrong move, even one ill-advised jostle, and it would sink deep into the unprotected flesh. She sighed and moved towards the boat.
‘I think I want to know where you’re planning for us to go,’ she said.
‘Far far away,’ he replied, climbing aboard behind her.
‘You don’t like boats,’ she said, looking around the dim deck. It was definitely an older boat, at a guess about seventeen meters, the deck reasonably sized, a white wheelhouse taking up a good amount of space. It would have twin diesel engines, and she did unfortunately share Danny’s thoughts about the keys. Not many people bothered stealing boats. There weren’t a great many options about where you could take them.
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Don’t much like boats at all.’ Skirting around her and into the wheelhouse, he took a seat there and leaned back to look out at her, his fingers entwined again in Rose’s hair. In the spreading darkness, Claire couldn’t tell if Rose’s eyes were open.
‘But here we are anyway,’ he said. ‘Get her going. We haven’t got all day. Or night, I should say.’
Fuck. She could still hear Pilot’s barking, but a quick look around showed they were alone on the dock. With Moana stuck in the boot of the car, there was no one around to get Rose out of this but Claire. And right now, she decided, running through her options, there was nothing to do but go along with it.
In the wheelhouse, she moved past Danny, ignoring his grin, and went to the nav station, lifting the top of it to sift through the compartment where every yachtie she’d ever met kept all their bits and pieces – tide tables, handhelds, mechanical pencils, parallels, brass dividers, whistle, air horn, torch…
And keys, dangling on a float.
With the torch on its red light setting so she wouldn’t blind her night vision, Claire turned to look for the battery switches, found them and turned on house and starter banks. The circuit panel was next and then she reached up and turned the red dome light on.
Stepping across to the helm, she drew in a quiet breath and slid the key into the ignition, then turned to move past Danny, ignoring him with a cold, calm anger, and stepped outside onto the aft deck.
‘For fucks sakes, where are you going now? You’re supposed to be getting this bloody thing going.’ Danny’s voice was a low growl, but he didn’t budge from his seat in the corne
r of the cockpit, back to the windows.
‘It’s not a car, Danny,’ Claire said, and went back to ignoring him. A moment later, she had the engine compartment hatch open, sticking the torch in her mouth so she could climb down.
Automatically, she reached forward under the deck to switch on the engine room light. It was right where they almost always were, and she took a moment to trace the engine intake hoses, then turned the thru-hulls open, the tasks familiar.
It calmed her, being on a boat. Her movements were quick and sure, and she took everything in with the practise of one who had done it a hundred times, automatically assessing the boat’s condition and machinery placement.
The bilge had a few inches of water, but the pump was on a moment later and she nodded to herself, turned the light off and climbed out of the engine room, turning to close the hatch, mind working with well-oiled clarity.
The stern compartment had what she was looking for. She took it back inside with her, threw it down beside Danny.
‘We’re not going anywhere without Rose wearing that,’ she said, nodding at the child’s lifejacket.
They stared at each other for a long moment, Claire’s gaze steady under his challenge. He shook his head, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
‘Nope, again,’ he said. ‘She’s fine where she is.’
‘We’re not going anywhere until she’s wearing that life jacket,’ Claire said, folding her arms across her breasts.
‘Nope.’ He lifted the knife, stroked it across the little girl’s cheek. Now, Claire saw Rose blink, her eyes bruised and frightened. She wanted to reach out, touch the red curls, tell the child it would be all right.
She had to figure out a way to make it all right.
‘I could get off this boat right now,’ she said. ‘You’d be on your own.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘So you could.’ The knife caught the light, the blade gleaming red as though already dipped in blood. ‘And yet I don’t think you will.’ He held the knife up and pretended to examine it. ‘I picked this up when I stole the car,’ he said, his voice conversational while Claire stood there, her eyes turned to Rose instead. The little girl had twisted around in the tightly-bound sling, and she’d found Claire, staring at her in the dim light.
