by Heide Goody
“That … that doesn’t really matter,” said the detective. “Point is, this boat looks possibly unseaworthy and we don’t want to have to call out the lifeboats if you get into—”
“Are you saying my niece here does not know how to build a ship?” said Gunnolf, clapping a meaty hand on Hilde’s shoulder.
“I’m sure it’s lovely and, if we can get it checked out by the proper authorities—”
“Authorities?” scoffed Yngve.
“Concerned local residents called us because—”
“Busy bodies!”
“We just want you to be safe.”
“It’s you who should be afraid, not us!”
“And the people of Cleethorpes!” said Gunnolf.
The detective was perplexed. “You’re sailing it to Cleethorpes—?” He hesitated, distracted by the phone buzzing at his belt. He gave them all a bewildered look and stepped back to take the call. “Camara, here. What was that, central? Otterside? I’m kind of up to my neck in things down on the beach. Seacroft end. I could do with a couple of uniforms at the scene. Yes? I do know a Sam Applewhite.”
The detective drew away further and Hilde was able to turn her attention back to her own folk and Ragnar, who was truly getting into the swing of things as Master of Ceremonies.
* * *
Marvin stepped out of Rich’s car to better see what was going on. “Where did Sam go?”
“I think I saw her go inside,” said Rich.
Marvin walked forward, but gave the scene of the accident a wide berth. There was no point getting in the way of the emergency crew.
“Watch out!” Rich firmly but gently pulled him aside as a yellow people carrier drove hurriedly out of the car park. “Christ, that thing nearly had you.”
“At least there’s already an ambulance on stand-by,” said Marvin.
They continued forward toward Otterside, but they were walking against the tide. Most of the residents were pressing forward to see what was happening outside.
A man grabbed Marvin’s arm. “You saw it, didn’t you?”
It was Chesney, the manager and enthusiastic amateur singer.
“The accident?”
“My car.” He pointed to an empty parking space.
“The big yellow monstrosity?” said Marvin.
Marvin knew that age brought with it a certain propensity to worry unnecessarily, and he generally thought he did well at keeping senior anxieties at bay, but his brain had suddenly put two and two together and coming up with an alarmingly large number.
He turned to Rich. “Get after it.”
“Get after what?” said Rich.
“The yellow people carrier thing.”
“We didn’t see where it—”
“In all likelihood it went towards town. It’s a long straight road for I don’t know how long. It’s bright yellow, man! Phone me!”
Marvin’s urgent tone must have had an impact because Rich nodded dumbly and stumbled and ran for his car.
“We should call the police,” said Chesney.
“You and I are going to check every room to see if my daughter is here.”
84
Sam sat in the front passenger seat of the people carrier. She didn’t know whose vehicle it was but got the impression it might be Chesney’s part-time taxi, and this was not the first time these elderly residents had borrowed it.
They had skirted the on-going scene in the car park. All eyes were still on the spot where Dr Hackett had died, and the paramedics going through the motions of dealing with someone who was beyond saving. Sam could have shouted out for help as the social committee slowly kidnapped her, but something held her back; and it wasn’t just the fear of being shot. Despite all reasonable evidence to the contrary, part of her struggled to believe this was anything other than a charade, a grand pantomime.
In the people carrier, Strawb sat immediately behind her. There was the insistent pressure of the pistol barrel through the car seat, pointed directly at her spine. Polly and Margaret sat on the back seat with Strawb. Jacob drove. They were heading to the southern end of town. The roads were nearly empty. It was Boxing Day after all.
“It won’t be long,” said Jacob. “Not far to go.”
It won’t be long, sounded ominous.
* * *
“Raise your horns and we shall all drink mead in celebration of this glorious day!” Ragnar shouted, his own huge horn held aloft. Bottles of mead were passed around the crowd, and there was much joyous shouting.
“We have long dreamed of this. We now have the means to expand our horizons. Today’s raid will be upon Cleethorpes. They’ll never expect a raid from the sea, and we’ll be away with their miniature locomotive before they know what’s hit them.”
A loud cheer went up.
“Will this be the adventure of a lifetime?” Ragnar asked. “No, this is just the beginning! We want to test the capabilities of our fine craft. I want every man to come back inspired!”
“And woman,” came a firm voice from within the longship.
“Astrid?” Ragnar said, surprised. “Astrid my love, this is no place for you.”
“Of course it is. Who else will make sure everyone is fed and comfortable? And in case you hadn’t noticed, quite a number of your Viking warriors are women.”
Hilde saw her farfar reach for his glasses to check, but he remembered himself in time. “Of course I knew that! I was speaking figuratively. So anyway, I want every man and woman to come back inspired! Our coming adventures will know no bounds!”
There was more cheering. Ragnar acknowledged the adulation of the crowd with his hands held high in the air. “We shall set sail in a few minutes. Let us have music! Our enemies will cower at the approach of our mighty vessel as they hear the fearsome sound!”
Hilde had installed a high spec public address system. It was capable of volume sufficient to render everyone on board permanently deaf, so she had cautioned Ragnar not to turn it up to its full capacity. The sound blasting out was from the Viking Metal band Meat-Heads, which was young Kalf, Erik and Horik Odinson. They had enjoyed moderate success on the internet with songs like Blood, Mead, Death and Goreheart.
As the music boomed, the goat in the boat bleated in distress and, even better, the police detective was forced to move further away to be able to continue his phone conversation.
For the longship’s first journey to sea, Hilde had selected the thumping anthem Dragon Bait. She could see from her farfar’s face that he wasn’t a fan of the music, but he certainly appreciated the drama of it. If enemies could be crushed by harsh, growling vocals and a bass line that banged their teeth together from half a mile away, then Meat-Heads were a force to be reckoned with.
* * *
Marvin cupped his hands to his mouth and called out for Sam.
It felt a silly gesture. Otterside might have been just one building, built around a single horseshoe corridor, but it was a large place nonetheless. Residents who had not gone and congregated outside to gawp at the accident were in the corridors, chatting with one another.
The sight of a man wandering around shouting, “Sam! Sam!” repeatedly drew their attention.
A number of well-meaning but useless individuals tried to stop and ask him if he was all right. Marvin shrugged these off and moved onward. The last of these was a rotund chap in shorts and a dressing gown who tried to block Marvin’s way.
“Enough of that,” he said with brusque authority. “Can’t go around shouting at everyone.”
“Bernard,” said Chesney. This man is looking for his daughter, Miss Applewhite. Apparently, it’s important.”
“Bernard?” said Marvin. “Who swapped his murder with Janine or Alison?”
The words came out of Marvin’s mouth unbidden. They were a seeming nonsense, and despite Marvin’s current fears he didn’t even know if they were remotely true. But the look on Bernard’s face when he said them, the panic that appeared in the fat man’s eyes, shot a bolt of
dread through Marvin.
“Must be about my business,” said Bernard hurriedly. “Plenty to do.”
Marvin took hold of Chesney. He suspected if he didn’t he would simply fall. “You must call the police.”
“My car, yes.”
“I think Sam’s been kidnapped.”
“What?”
“And I have to tell you about the murders.” Marvin felt around in his pockets for his phone and called Rich. Rich picked up on the second ring, which was too slow.
“Hi —”
“Tell me you’ve seen it,” said Marvin.
“Well, I did. Several cars ahead. And I saw it turn onto that boulevard towards the sea front with the Sea Castle at the end and then…”
“Then?” said Marvin. “Then?”
“And now I’m looking. I really am.”
“Look harder.”
“They’d only come down here if they were going somewhere. I mean there’s no through road really. They could have turned into a car park or… I am looking, Marvin.”
85
The people carrier had come down along the seafront and was now making its way along one of the tracks that cut through the dunes to a quieter part of the beach. The empty boating lake was off to the left and, to the right, a compound surrounded by high blue fencing and containing rows of white boats. Fishing boats and cruisers sat on trailers.
Jacob got out and hurried to the gates of the compound. Strawb indicated for Sam to follow.
“So, tell me,” she said, “how many people have you killed?”
Strawb blew out his lips. “I couldn’t say.”
“I measure it in time rather than numbers,” said Margaret.
“Twenty three,” Jacob called from the gate.
“That many?” whispered Polly.
“It’s hard to put a number on things when accidents happen all the time,” said Margaret. “Ten years ago, Jacob here killed my Pat for me, didn’t you, Jacob?”
“I did,” said Jacob and disappeared into the compound.
“He was a vile and abusive husband. Denied me the family I might have wanted. Spent his money on his own pet projects. We’ll see his boat in a minute or two. I kept it. Then Strawb joined us and did for those punks who had been such horrible neighbours to Jacob.”
“Carbon monoxide poisoning,” said Strawb. Sam saw him lean close to Polly in the rear view mirror. “They didn’t feel a thing.”
“Then there was Linda, who was most creative in dealing with that loan shark. In return we asked Charles to do away with that scumbag burglar who ruined her nerves. Carol then David then Nancy – these were the perpetrators, not the victims. We don’t bother remembering the names of the human waste we do away with. Ronald and Judith and Donald—”
“I thought it was Donald then Ronald,” said Strawb.
“No, Ronald then Donald,” said Margaret. “Ronald ran that pervert over – took him weeks to die. Donald managed to get that swindling gardener chap to somehow drown himself upside down in a water butt. I liked that one.”
“All helping each other. In a chain,” said Polly. The way she said it told Sam she was discovering this for the first time. “I once belonged to a tea towel club. You sent off one tea towel to the address at the top of the list and then you got sent six tea towels by other people in return.”
“A pyramid scheme,” said Strawb.
“Pyramid scheme murder club,” said Sam and could have laughed.
“Except we kept it very tightly under control,” said Margaret. “Ten years and many deaths—”
“Twenty three,” said Jacob.
“—and we haven’t been caught. No one’s even come close.”
“The police were asking round,” said Sam.
With a low engine thrum, a tractor and trailer reversed out of the compound. On the trailer was a white cabin cruiser boat. Despite having lived in Skegness for a while, and spent much of her life at various coastal towns, Sam didn’t know much about boats. It had a pointy end and a squat stern, with a little deck and a piled up cabin area in the middle that made the boat seem almost as tall as it was long. The name Calypso was painted on the side in a jolly flowing script.
“What are we doing?” said Sam.
“Use your imagination,” said Margaret. “That’s what we’re going to do.”
* * *
“Let us launch with all haste!” bellowed Ragnar, then swiftly deferred to Hilde.
Under her supervision, the Odinson men lifted Sandraker once more and carried it down to the surf. They carried it until the lapping waves lifted and supported it.
It fair cheered the hearts of everyone to see the ship fully afloat and not sinking at all. It was a proud moment for the Odinsons, definitely something for the sagas, and Hilde was certain the occasional squeals from the men and exclamations of “Ooh, the water’s cold!” would not make it into their proud history, soon to be forgotten.
A gangway plank was laid at an awkward angle and the men and women of the raiding party climbed aboard. There were cheers from the onlookers, and the Odinson children, with ice-cream smeared faces, yelled in delight.
The Saxon copper, Camara, was still on the beach, on his phone as though he could magically summon forces to stop them. Hilde, stood in the prow and laughed at that thought.
Her farfar clapped his hand on her shoulder. “Tis a fine day for the Odinsons,” he said.
She leaned in against him and wrapped her arms around his considerable chest. “You know, we might actually do this. Now, shall I show you the gas-fired grappling hooks I’ve installed?”
Ragnar held her at arm’s length and looked at her with shining eyes. “For boarding enemy ships?”
“Well, I thought for mooring ourselves to Cleethorpes pier. But sure.”
Astrid moved along the deck promising her brave Viking sailors that she’d have the kettle on for a cup of tea soon enough.
* * *
Once the cabin cruiser Calypso was released into the sea swells with Margaret at the helm, Jacob waded out to join them. Strawb passed the pistol to Polly and told Sam to sit on a deckchair on the little aft deck. He had a roll of silver-backed tape in his hands.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to do that,” said Sam.
Gun or no gun, Sam preferred her chances if she threw herself overboard and swam up the coast. If these crooks were planning on a quick getaway, they wouldn’t bother chasing her down.
Strawb tutted “This is the facking problem with young people.”
He stepped forward. With a speed she didn’t expect he slammed his fist into Sam’s nose. She sat down hard on the chair, her nose already throbbing and bloody. She gasped in shock.
“Oh, Strawb,” said Polly.
“Just because our best years are behind us, they think we’re harmless,” he seethed, then shook his hand. “Fack. Gone and hurt my hand now.”
Polly took the tape from him and securely bound Sam’s wrists to the aluminium arms of the deckchair.
Jacob shook his wet legs out on the deck once he’d climbed aboard, then lifted up the lid of one of the seats on the rear deck. He took out a rucksack and removed a pair of dry trousers. Blinking against the tears and pain dominating her face, Sam thought the emergency grab bag was very telling. They’d been planning this for a while.
The engine rose in volume, sea churned and the boat pulled away.
There was movement on the shore, up by the compound and the yellow people carrier. There was a car parked next to it now and a man stood in the open doorway. His arm was cocked as though holding a phone to his ear.
Too late, she thought.
* * *
The Saxon detective, Camara, came running down to the waterline, waving his hands.
“Too late, my friend!” Ragnar chortled at him. “We set sail!”
“Well, we’re actually rowing for now,” said Hilde. “I want to get out a-ways before we raise the sails.”
It had occurred to Hilde durin
g the planning and construction of the ship, that despite their Viking bravado, none of the Odinsons had any sailing experience. She had spent much of the past year reading up on the mechanics and techniques, but feared research was no replacement for actual practice.
“Ragnar! I need you!”
Ragnar stepped up onto the prow, his ceremonial cloak flapping about him in the stiff breeze. “Tha’ll not get in the way of us launching this magnificent ship, so tha might as well—”
“—Ragnar, I’m not going to stop you,” said Camara. “I’m coming with you. I need to commandeer this vessel for police business.”
“What?”
“I need you to follow another boat.” He swivelled and pointed at a white-grey shape a half mile up the shore. “That boat!”
“What for? We’ll be having no truck with thee.”
“They’re murder suspects.”
“Then let tha Saxon coastguard deal with it.”
“They’ve got Sam Applewhite hostage.”
Ragnar stared at Camara for a moment.
“Farfar,” said Hilde.
Ragnar nodded and then turned back to the crowd surrounding the ship. “Gunnolf! Gunnolf! New chapter for the saga. We’ll be joined by a—” he gestured at Camara “—what’ll we call you? A renegade priest? Yes a renegade priest, sent to capture pirates.”
Camara shook his head. “A renegade what?” He scrambled on board, getting soaked to the waist. “How quickly can we set sail in this?”
“We’re actually going to be rowing at first,” said Ragnar.
“If we want to go quickly,” said Hilde. “I suggest you all help with the rowing and I will provide steering instructions until we’ve made up the distance.”
Ragnar looked like he was about to protest, before dropping to a bench and pulling Camara down beside him.
Hilde instructed all the new sailors to find their oars.
“The coastguard and lifeboats have been notified,” said Camara, almost as though he was trying to justify all this to himself, knowing he was in the hands of this band of fools in an untested ship on the chilly vastness of the North Sea. “But the nearest rescue helicopter is in Humberside and the RNLI have only just been alerted.”
