“Why wait for the cavalry?”
“Because I don’t want to die just yet.”
“Oh yes, the guy is a trained killer. Sorry I forgot that for a moment.”
On arrival at the harbour they found their luck was in as the two fishermen were down in the boat positioning a box, so they were able to slip into hiding without being seen.
“No sign of Staunton, do you honestly think he’s going to show up?”
“I’m sure of it, Brian. He knows by now that every port and airport in Europe has people looking out for him, especially here in Madeira. What better than to slip away with this arms shipment.”
Since the truck had arrived over one hour had passed with only four of the six long crates loaded into the boat, and there were several smaller crates and ammunition boxes still to be lowered over the quayside and down into the boat. Two o’clock came and went and still the men cautiously laboured over the boxes until nearly the last of the smaller boxes was taken off the truck and carried to the edge of the quay.
“What do you think is in those smaller metal boxes?”
“Ammunition for the assault rifles, and in the shallow ones grenades or may even be rockets. The lightweight long box they offloaded just now made me think that a shoulder launcher was included.”
“How did you know one box was lightweight?”
“They loaded it much more quickly than the others.”
“You don’t miss much do you?”
Based on previous cycles, Vaughan estimated that the final box would be safely stowed on board in twenty minutes, and he was beginning to get concerned that Staunton had not put in an appearance.
“I have just had an unpleasant thought, Brian.”
“What about?”
“What if Staunton was overseeing this loading operation from a hiding place and saw us arrive.”
“Thanks for that thought, Ian. It makes me feel so much more uncomfortable.”
“A pleasure. You watch our intrepid labourers while I have a quiet look round.”
Ten minutes later Conway almost had a heart attack as Vaughan crouched down beside him. “Don’t you ever knock.”
“I didn’t want to wake you.”
“Cheeky bastard.” Conway took another look at the fishermen on the quay, “Well, looks like they are almost done. What’s that noise?”
“Sounds like a trolley of some sort. Ah, there he is pulling a couple of suitcases, I was right, he is travelling with the goods.”
“What do we do?”
“Wait and hope the cavalry arrives.”
Staunton reached the truck and appeared to be giving orders to the fishermen as to his personal luggage, then he hobbled back towards the seafront and the wide haul-out slipway.
“Now what’s he doing?”
“I don’t know, Brian, and he has dropped out of sight.” Vaughan wished he had a set of night goggles with him. “With those two standing like daisies on the quayside we can’t go looking for him without raising the alarm.”
Both men fell quiet listening intently. A rat scurried across the room and both men tensed.
“A rat?” Conway whispered.
“Probably.”
“Hey, I just saw a light flash out at sea.”
“That’s what Staunton’s been doing, he’s been signalling to a larger vessel waiting offshore. Amelia was spot on, clever girl.”
The sound of the waves on the shore was drowned out by the sudden wailing of a siren.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, announce your arrival with a fanfare why don’t you.”
“That’s got Staunton heading for the hills I bet.” Vaughan stood and went to leave. “Brian, are you armed?”
“No, no bloody way, that’s against the rules.”
“Right, you stay here and introduce yourself to Colonel Castelo-Lopez. Make sure to hold your badge up high so they don’t shoot you.”
Conway swallowed hard, “Thanks for the tip, where are you going to be?”
“Tracking down Staunton. Oh you might need these to get home with.” Vaughan handed the car keys over.
“Are you armed?”
“Oh, Brian, that’s against the rules.”
Vaughan had just made it to the corner of the building as the lead police car rounded the bend onto the seafront and accelerated towards the quay where the two fishermen were scrambling down into their boat, preparing to cast off. Behind the police car, but travelling a lot slower round the bend, was an army truck loaded with soldiers.
***
Nervously, Detective Sergeant Brian Conway stepped out of the doorway onto the terrace of the derelict building and walked towards the steps. The beam of a powerful lamp blinded him and he instantly raised both hands above his head allowing his police badge to dangle from his right hand where everyone could see it. Two soldiers approached cautiously, one padding Conway down whilst the other held a gun on him. Finally satisfied, the soldier who had done the search gave Conway a shove in the back sending him down the steps towards the army truck.
“Colonel Castelo-Lopez! Colonel Castelo-Lopez!”
“Yes, Senhor, what do you want?”
“I am Detective Sergeant Conway of the Special Branch Section of the Metropolitan Police in London. I am here liaising with your local Force in finding and arresting a British subject named Leonard Staunton.”
“You aren’t by any chance in the company of Senhor Ian Vaughan?”
“Why, er yes, Sir, I am.”
“Where is he now?”
“One of the men loading boxes onto that small boat ran off when he heard the police siren, Mr Vaughan has gone after him,” replied Conway, not wanting to disclose the fact that the man he had been sent to arrest was now being pursued by maritime author Ian Vaughan instead of himself.
“Which way did they go?”
Conway pointed towards the corner of the building, “Er, that way, Sir, I think.”
The Colonel turned and ordered three of his men to search.
“Stay with me please, Detective, I would like to hear what these men at the boat have to say for themselves and see what they have taken on board.”
“Colonel, olhar, o mar!” shouted a sergeant standing in front of the army truck.
The Colonel turned to see a rusty cargo vessel caught in the powerful beam of the searchlight from the rapidly approaching Portuguese naval vessel, “Schultz Xavier”.
“The man that ran off signalled to the ship. Vaughan and I saw the response flash, Colonel.”
“Thank you, Detective Conway. If our Policia Maritima manage to secure an arrest and get the vessel into Funchal, your evidence will be most useful.”
The cargo vessel’s bows were pointing south-east when the “Schultz Xavier'” caught her in the searchlight and now she was trying hard to get underway and execute a sharp turn to starboard in a futile attempt to escape. It appeared that radio contact had been ignored so the naval vessel used a loudhailer and when that failed to get a response army personnel on board opened fire with automatic rifles aimed at the bridge door. Almost instantly the cargo vessel lost way allowing the “Schultz Xavier” to close and give instructions to enter the port of Funchal.
The manoeuvres at sea had held both men’s full attention right up until the “Schultz Xavier” had drawn close alongside the MV Verlorenvlei.
“There will be a great deal of protesting their innocence no doubt. I am quite looking forward to this; I have never been party to an arrest of a ship at sea.”
“I am more interested in our arrest on land, Senhor Conway; shall we go?”
Conway, feeling a little embarrassed, followed the Colonel onto the quay where they saw the two fishermen handcuffed and sat under armed guard. “Which one is the man Mr Vaughan identified?”
“Neither of these two, he must be the one that ran off. Damn.”
The crates on board the boat were being opened and as they looked down into the boat a corporal approached the Colonel and saluting, handed him one
of the assault rifles taken from the haul. The Colonel inspected it nodding his head slowly.
“Impressive, Detective Conway, very impressive. This is a Chinese Type 56 assault rifle, a variant of the Russian AK-47.” He smiled, “There are not enough of them there to start a war, but enough for a guerrilla movement to cause a great deal of trouble.”
Handing the weapon back to the soldier the Colonel turned to Conway, “Tell me, Detective, what is Ian Vaughan? He is not police, but he is something similar I am sure.”
“All I know is that he is an author of some sort. We contacted him after he was attacked in Spain, it fitted with some enquiries we were making connected with illegal arms trading. You see we believe that some British subjects were involved and may be doing business here. My work was to assist your local Force here in any way I can with the arrest of this Leonard Staunton, who we believe to be seriously involved.”
“How come you are working together?”
“After interviewing him in London we learnt that he was returning here and I was ordered to find him and warn him not to get involved, but as you see he took no notice.”
“But how did you get here?”
“He phoned me at my hotel earlier and told me he had something to show me that may lead to the arrest of this Staunton character, and here I am, tired and wishing I was safely tucked up in bed.”
“Did you not contact your opposite number here?”
“Oh yeh, straight away, he’s standing over there.” Conway pointed to a man in a black leather jacket who was talking to the fishermen. “Hey, José, can you come here a moment?”
The man turned and walked towards them. “Colonel, this is Detective Sergeant José Livramento. José, this is Colonel Castelo-Lopez.” Having made the introduction Conway took two steps back breathing a sigh of relief, content at watching Livramento face questioning. The conversation between the two did not last long as it was interrupted by the three soldiers returning to report that they had not found anyone.
“Detective Conway, are you sure that the man and our friend Senhor Vaughan went away in that direction?”
“I am certain that they did.”
“My men report that they could not find anyone.”
Tempted to ask how hard they had tried Conway contented himself by saying, “The man on the run may well have planned a backdoor escape route. Our information is that he has had military training to a high level.”
“Ah, that puts a different, how you say, er light on the situation.” Castelo-Lopez turned to his Lieutenant. “O mapa por favor.” Like a magician’s rabbit from a hat the Lieutenant handed the Colonel a map. “Let me see, how can we quickly get troops to form a cordon.”
Stabbing his finger at the area around the hotel Jardin Atlantico, the Colonel explained to his Lieutenant what he required to be done.
Soon one dozen men were climbing aboard the army truck under the command of a sergeant with orders to form a cordon along the rim of the gulley that led inland from the southern edge of the slipway. A second truckload of soldiers had arrived and similar orders were given to them to cover the rim to the north of the gulley.
“We will place a few men here just in case the man doubles back.”
“What do we do?” asked Conway.
“Be patient and wait, Detective.”
Conway sighed, then looking at the Colonel realised the man was about to start asking questions again and beat him to it, “Colonel, Ian Vaughan has spoken of you quite a bit in the short time I have spent with him, and it is obvious to me that you know a lot more about him than we do. When did you first meet him?”
“It was the evening after the attempted coup…”
***
When he left the derelict building, Vaughan had crossed to the steps and gained the cover of a high wall as the police car’s headlights shone over the esplanade road to the quay. A ramp ran up alongside the wall leading to a pathway behind the building. It was the only way out and taking it he found himself crossing the backs of the harbour front houses. A track led off to the right which he ignored at first, running on until he found himself at a dead end. Returning to the track he started up it then stopped and searched in his trouser pocket for his keyring torch. Shining the light down onto the dusty path he picked out a set of footprints, one clear and the other scuffed as if the foot was dragged. “Staunton, you won’t get far walking like that.”
Vaughan estimated that Staunton had at most a three minute start on him and set off up the track as fast as he could at first, then found that against the cliff face the track turned sharply to the right and became narrow and very steep, leading back high above the slipway area where it turned left following the north side of the gulley. Keeping low and trying hard not to make a noise he rounded the corner, his eyes straining to see ahead in the dark and praying that the lights now on the quay did not show him up in silhouette. Moving into a shadowed area Vaughan held his breath, listening intently but nearly all small noises were being masked by the sound of rushing water from the stream in the base of the gulley. He looked up at the sky seeing a myriad of stars on that clear but moonless night; Staunton had picked his night well. He advanced some thirty metres, his night vision improving as he went. The track turned right down to the banks of the stream which it followed for some distance before coming to a fording point. Risking the torch again Vaughan checked that he was still following the lame walker, noting that Staunton had stopped and sat, crushing a small plant by the side of the stream. “I must be close to him by now, more care required from here on. Lenny dear is a wounded animal and likely to be very dangerous if cornered.”
Crossing the stream the path started a steep climb again clinging now to the south side of the gulley. The scrub, now head high, increased the danger of just running into the man in the pitch dark. The faint sound of rock scree being disturbed some way ahead encouraged Vaughan to increase his speed but the going was getting harder with almost every step in the now almost impenetrable darkness. Suddenly he stepped out from the cover of the scrub and almost walked into the sheer rock face that formed the side of the gulley where the track turned sharply left and rose to a narrow ledge above the stream several metres below. A burst of automatic gunfire in the distance had him turning quickly and pressing himself against the rock to look back and down towards the quayside, then in the distance he saw the “Schultz Xavier” and the arrest at sea of the cargo vessel. “That should tie up a few loose ends for the Colonel.” Back in pursuit he shortly came across the point where Staunton had nearly gone over the edge and Vaughan would have placed a foot into the same gap in the path had he not heard some more scree slippage a moment before placing his foot into the void. Taking the torch from his pocket again he pointed its beam in front; he could see where Staunton had frantically scrabbled with his hands to pull himself to safety. To clear the gap meant a jump across and the chance of a collision between his shoulder and the rock wall on landing, risking what would be a fatal fall. He studied the rock face the other side carefully. “If I land on my right foot I should be able to pivot on it to face the rock wall and reach for a hand hold. I’ve got to land between the edge of the gap and that lump of rock overhanging the path, not the easiest thing to do.” Taking three paces back, Vaughan sprang forward and launched himself over the gap landing closer to the overhang than he would have liked, his left shoulder slamming into it as he pivoted. Fortunately his right hand found a crevice in which to form a fist wedge allowing him to arrest his fall backwards. After a moment or two’s rest to get his breath back he cleared the overhang then followed the rock face round to the right, here again the path entered scrub, the darkness now requiring him to put both arms out in front feeling his way. Another thirty or forty metres brought Vaughan back close to the stream again and the risk of its noise masking any sound of his quarry. Hindered by caution, he had allowed Staunton to gain some distance on him, fear of pursuit and capture providing a boost to the man’s energy.
The path
veered right and started to climb up a side gulley taking a series of sharp zigzag bends as the climb steepened. The higher the path climbed the less dense was the scrub resulting in exposure to anyone above. In places the path had fallen away and Vaughan made a near fatal slip that took him back down one level in a cloud of dust. He would have fallen further had he not caught hold of a sapling whose roots miraculously held in the shallow topsoil. The sound brought two shots in his direction, forcing him to crawl back down the track to hide behind a rock. Hoping to make Staunton fire again and so reveal his position, Vaughan shouted out, “Oh give it up, Staunton, if you don’t you’ll be dead by dawn, I’ve got half the Portuguese army closing in, you’ll never make it off the island or out of here come to that.”
“Vaughan!” The voice was loud, almost a scream.
“Top marks for voice recognition, Lenny dear,” Vaughan shouted back, intent now on goading Staunton into making a false move, he needed an edge to balance the scales. Between him and Staunton was a lot of open ground that would make him an easier target. “That’s what Alice liked to call you wasn’t it, Lenny dear. The staff in the communications room fell about laughing when they heard her.”
Two more shots were fired, neither hit close enough for Vaughan to worry about.
“We have little Miss Alice Morgan and Vermeulen, Lenny dear, both are telling us an awful lot about you. My, you’ve been a naughty boy, Lenny.”
Three shots followed and this time Vaughan just caught the muzzle flash as the bullet pinged off the rock next to him. “Time to move I think.” As he broke cover three more shots were fired, the thwack of their impact on the vegetation close to him, making Vaughan realise that Staunton had night vision goggles.
“Shit he can see me really clearly, this makes it very tricky, too bloody tricky.” One thing was certain, Staunton had not moved position and was now hidden behind a screen of undergrowth, Vaughan fired twice and was rewarded by hearing Staunton move to a position further up the path.
In Treacherous Waters Page 36
