Blood in the Water: A DCI Keane Scottish Crime Thriller

by Oliver Davies

  A careful, stealthy climb back up the ladder satisfied me that nobody would be able to see me from up there if I ducked down behind the other end of the control console. They couldn’t get a decent view of the screens I was using either. Back on the floor again, I carefully ran all my wires along the wall behind the long workstation and positioned my control switch in handy reach before going back to plug it in and flick the socket on. The multimeter showed no current to the ladder, as expected. I put the insulating gloves on as a precautionary measure and went to turn on my control switch.

  Oh, yeah, this time, I got a reading of 230V running through the ladder. That should certainly shake up whoever climbed down here enough to give me a bit of an edge. I could always try to start their heart up again if it worked too well.

  I turned off the control switch, stripped off the gloves to leave on the floor just by it and quietly placed all the unneeded leftovers and tools into a drawer. It was after half ten by then, and I was beginning to wonder what Conall thought he was playing at this morning when a little flashing light on my work screen informed me that he’d booted up his laptop. Finally! I snapped a couple of screenshots and typed a quick note onto the one I’d taken of the chart plotter. When I asked for it, my laptop gave me a view from his webcam in a new window.

  Damn! He’d gone out again. Well, hopefully, he wouldn’t be long. I sent the images through and sat back to wait. He’d better not be, or I might have to choose a different time slot and a later set of coordinates for him.

  Ugh! The sooner we could get this little mess cleaned up, the better.

  Twenty-Three

  The Kværnen was still a long way away when I first spotted her. I’d paused to tread water briefly for another quick compass check when I saw her come into view on the horizon. That was a good moment for me because, as I’d been swimming, I couldn’t help thinking about all the things that might have gone wrong on that yacht while I was on my way up here. For all I knew, she might have been on an entirely different course and miles away by now. What if Shay had been discovered?

  There was little danger of anyone on board noticing me just yet, not from such a long distance. I’d wait until she was within a couple of hundred metres of me before diving. All the lightly rippled surface was giving off sparkles of reflected light, so I wasn’t worried about flashes of sunlight bouncing off my mask, giving me away.

  Another ten minutes, and she was close enough to make me decide to dive. I didn’t need to sink far, a couple of metres was just fine, and the visibility at that level was fantastic. The water was very clear here. I inserted the mouthpiece of my mini air tank and opened up the regulator, adjusting it until I was getting the right airflow.

  I must admit, I didn’t feel exactly comfortable out there. It did feel a little unnerving to be out in the open sea without the reassuring presence of a diving buddy at my side. I wasn’t particularly worried by the idea of running into a large marine predator; the odds of that were astronomically low. Still, the urge to check behind and below me quite frequently couldn’t be denied, irrational as it was.

  Kværnen’s wake of white frothing water looked like a thick feathered plume from down here, and I could see she was angled to pass me at quite a distance as things currently stood. I altered my direction slightly and shifted into top gear. Sure enough, that thick trail of frothing white soon died away. The sudden quiet as the vibration of her engines cut off was strange too. I could suddenly hear my own breathing in a way I hadn’t noticed before. She wasn’t far from me now. I made a guess, based on the rate at which she appeared to be slowing, and angled for a spot about fifty metres beyond her current position.

  I came up under her dive platform and pulled myself up. Unclipping the air tank and setting it down took mere seconds. I left the mask there too and crept up the companionway, keeping low to give myself a view of the stern deck. Clouds of oily, black, smoke were rising upwards from the air vents along the sides. Surely Shay hadn’t set the damned boat on fire? Knowing him, he’d probably found some engine oil, and something strong enough to contain it safely when he set it alight.

  Nobody in sight down here, but I could hear voices up on the flybridge. The sound of running footsteps below, and then on the inside stairs sped me forward. Moving as fast as I could without making any noise, I crossed the deck and ducked into the cover of the starboard stairwell leading up to the flybridge.

  “The emergency fire system’s kicked in and locked the damned door,” Jordan called up to Phelps from inside the main deck salon. “I’ll use the access hatch in here to get down to the control room.”

  “Alright. Be as quick as you can. The sooner we know how bad this is, the better.” I crept higher. Cory Phelps was swearing under his breath up there. “This had better not be some trick you’ve pulled, Nielsen!” he spat out furiously.

  “Me? What could I possibly have done? You’ve been watching me the whole time.”

  I winced. That cool, unconcerned tone was just the sort of thing that might set an angry, hostile man off. I slipped my knife from its sheath. It wasn’t made for throwing, but if Cory happened to be looking my way when I raised my head, I’d rather have it to hand than not.

  I was in luck. He was sitting up staring fixedly at Mads Nielsen, who was standing a few feet in front of him at the helm. I didn’t like the way Phelps was aggressively pointing that gun at Nielsen’s back, but our relative positions were no good. It would be a terrible moment to make my move. An aborted cry and a loud thump from below and behind me made me duck again as Phelps jumped up and spun around. I heard the crackle of his radio as he hit the button.

  “Brian? What’s going on?” A long pause and then an answering coughing sound came back to him.

  “Fucking ladder,” Jordan croaked. “I slipped, didn’t I? I’m alright. Let me get the doors open down here and pump some fresh air through to clear this smoke out.”

  Cory was moving back towards the rear of the flybridge to look down. How far over to the port side was he? Was it far enough to prevent him from spotting me crouching in the enclosed stairwell? Apparently so.

  I eased up again and caught Mads Nielsen’s startled glance before he hastily looked away again, fixing his gaze on Phelps’ back. Phelps himself was leaning over the rail between the two day beds out on the open deck at the back of the flybridge. I didn’t have a chance of getting near him over there before he could shoot me. I ducked again, listening, as sweat dripped into my eyes. My suits were roasting me alive by then as the sun beat down on my head and back.

  “How’s it looking?” Phelps asked after another minute.

  The radio crackled again. “Just a small electrical fire.” More husky coughing, “It’s out now.”

  “And the engines?”

  “They cut out automatically. We should be good again soon.” My cousin was a superb mimic, but I recognised his voice in there that time, even if Phelps had missed it. So Jordan was out of commission… and Shay had views up here. He’d realise that I needed Phelps to head back towards the helm so I could get behind him. “Just keep your eye on Nielsen, so he doesn’t get any stupid ideas.”

  Perfect!

  I heard Phelps moving forwards again and strained my ears to track his position as I sheathed the knife again. Now!

  I surged up and hurled myself on his back, grabbing for his right wrist and twisting it sharply downwards as we fell together. A bullet shot harmlessly away over the water as he reflexively pulled the trigger, but I had him well pinned by then. I smashed his hand into the deck a few times until he dropped the gun. He just wouldn’t quit, even then, and continued to struggle. I got him in a chokehold and cut off his air until he blacked out.

  Shay came bouncing up the stairs and flashed me a delighted grin as I rolled over onto my elbows to look up at him. He had a coil of good strong cord on his arm too.

  “Nicely done! You’re looking a bit hot and bothered there, Cuz. Want to get out of that broiler?”

  Damned right
, I did. I sat up to pull at my outer zipper while Shay trussed up our catch with expert, economical motions.

  “I might have known it was you,” I heard Mads say, sounding considerably less calm than he had before. A gun pointing at his head hadn’t seemed to ruffle him anywhere near as much as the sight of my cheerful cousin was doing, “And there I was, thinking you’d slipped away in the night without so much as a goodbye. I had such delicious breakfast plans too.”

  “I’ll just bet you did!” Shay snorted. Done with Phelps, he came over to give me a hand. “Thanks for coming to join the party, Con. I wasn’t sure they’d let you.” He helpfully peeled the dry suit and undersuit tops off me one after the other. “Stand up, and I’ll help you get the rest of it off. Hold on to your boxers, or they’ll go too.”

  “I’d have tried to charter a private helicopter if Trish or Anderson vetoed the coastguard option,” I told him as a delightful, cooling breeze played over my upper half and then my emerging legs. I lifted my feet in turn so Shay could peel off the feet. My entire skin was sticky, itching and sweaty, and I was very glad to be free of the damp, smothering heat. My cousin stood up again and slapped me on the back.

  “Yeah, I figured you’d probably try that if they made you.” He produced a cloth and a plastic bag from his jacket pocket and scooped up the pistol, deftly expelling the magazine and emptying the chamber before bagging and pocketing it. I noticed a similar bulge on the other side, Jordan’s gun. “Is your ride heading back this way? Only I think it might be a good idea to airlift our sleeping beauties down there back to the Western Isles Hospital. I’d hate it if any of them reacted badly to whatever they were given. We don’t want another Butler on our hands.”

  No, we didn’t.

  “You go on down and check on them all, and I’ll radio our status in. They should be here in a few minutes. They were just keeping out of sight.”

  “Alright then, Mads can put you through. I’ll see you down there after.” He flashed another grin at me before bouncing off again.

  Yeah, my cousin was in a really good mood, alright. I turned to Nielsen, who was watching me a little nervously. He was probably worried that I might decide to react badly to whatever had happened the night before. I gave him a friendly, approving nod, and he relaxed visibly. If Shay liked him, which he obviously did, then I didn’t have any problem with him at all. It could have gone the other way. If Nielsen had hurt my cousin, I’d have ripped his fucking balls off. This was all far more civilised.

  I made my call, informing Jack Morrison that we’d secured the hostiles but had four people who needed to be flown back for medical observation. His acknowledgement sounded appropriately relieved.

  I picked up all my discarded gear to dump on the main deck and then Mads and I headed on below to see how Shay was getting on. He’d already cut Daniels and Verity loose, and they were both sitting on the bed gulping thirstily at bottles of water. Shay straightened up from examining the fourth and last of his line of sleepers, the Italian girl, Gioia.

  “Nice, steady heartbeats and no sign of respiratory depression in any of them. It doesn’t look like they’re due to come round again for a while yet.” He turned to Daniels and Verity. “Did either of you see what they were given?”

  Daniels nodded. “Jordan had a tub of pills in his pocket. He made them take two each, with water. I don’t know what they were.”

  “I’ll go and check Jordan, see if he’s still carrying them,” Shay offered.

  “May I come too?” Mads asked. “I’d like to see how much damage you’ve done to my father’s yacht.”

  “What damage? Some soot stains in the engine room? But by all means, do come and see for yourself.”

  Daniels stared at me curiously as they went off. Well, I wasn’t exactly conventionally dressed, standing there wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of loose, button-up black boxer shorts.

  “I’m guessing that Mr Keane was still on board this whole time, Inspector, but I’m damned if I know where you sprang from. I didn’t hear any other boats or aircraft anywhere near us all morning.”

  I explained about Shay’s message, the helicopter drop and my little swim. From the way I put it, he could have used his phone to send the message and then shut off the engines manually, once the course plotter told him it was time to do so. Daniels and Verity might be very grateful to see us, but Nielsen senior was their employer. I wasn’t about to mention that my cousin had probably taken over their entire system.

  “Benzodiazepine,” Shay announced as he reappeared and tossed me the tub. It was half full of little light green pills with the distinctively dyed blue powder inside.

  Rohypnol. Well, it could have been something far worse, as far as possible side effects went. I doubted these four would remember much of what had happened, though. A point in Jordan’s favour was that he hadn’t laid a finger on any of the hostages in his care. It was a point in ours too; there was no way in hell Shay could have stayed quietly in the control room, doing nothing, if he’d seen any sign of that sort of thing going on.

  “Come and give me a hand with Jordan, Con. We’d better get him up to the bow deck.” That was the logical place to get everyone lifted from. It was by far the largest of the exterior decks.

  It was chilly in the control room. The air conditioning was still going at full blast in there, clearing the last of the smoke away. I stared down at the well trussed Jordan, noting the extensive skin burns as I crouched to take hold of his shoulders

  “What did you do to him?”

  Shay pointed at the foot of the ladder, and I saw the wires trailing away. Oh, that was just diabolical! I grinned at my cousin approvingly, and his face lit up with quiet glee.

  “It worked much better than I thought it would,” he told me happily as he grabbed Jordan’s legs, and we both straightened up again. “His muscles must have gone into spasm, and he was just stuck there, halfway down the ladder, until I turned the control switch off. Then he sort of shouted, dropped like a rock and promptly passed out. It was pretty cool.”

  I wondered what sort of internal burns Jordan might also have sustained. Well, that would be a problem for the hospital to deal with.

  Mads emerged from his examination of the engine room and came jogging after us to slip past me to take some of the weight himself by lifting Jordan’s midsection. It certainly made getting our hefty, awkward burden up the stairs a far less arduous task.

  “You were perfectly correct, Shay, nothing to complain of but a few soot stains. Father will be very pleased.” We got Jordan out onto the bow deck and put him down. “Shall we go and bring his associate down too now, Inspector?”

  “We can manage, but thanks for offering. Could you lower some of this furniture out of the way and clear some more room out here?”

  The built-in seating didn’t look like it was movable, but sinking those tables would give us a lot more space to work in. By the time we’d got back down with Phelps, Mads had seen to that. We laid Phelps down and moved Jordan over next to him to clear the centre of the deck for the winchman.

  “When these two first came aboard, Mr Jordan was carrying a small black backpack,” Mads told us, “I haven’t spotted it lying around anywhere yet.”

  Oh? We’d need to find that.

  “Did you see it, Shay?” Surely he’d have mentioned it if he had. He shook his head.

  “I was curled up in a cupboard until we finally got moving, and I didn’t see anything like that when I checked all the camera views later. What did they do with their dinghy, Mads?”

  “Deflated it and put it in the tender garage. I don’t think they wanted to leave it behind for anyone to see.”

  No, they wouldn’t have wanted that at all. We all trooped back through the salon and out to the stern deck so we could go on down to the dive platform. Mads lifted up the garage door. The Kværnen’s seven-seater sport jet was sitting snugly in its cradle, and the folded RIB was shoved underneath it. No black backpack in there. We’d n
eed to perform a methodical search when we had time.

  I picked up my discarded mask and air tank to carry up with me and added them to the pile of borrowed gear to return to the coastguard. Cory Phelps was awake again by then and glaring up at us murderously. Jordan was barely starting to stir. I ignored the pair of them.

  “We don’t have time to perform a proper search now. The helicopter will be back soon.” I turned to Mads. “Herre Nielsen, I’m afraid I was already planning to request that you bring the Kværnen back to Stornoway, instead of travelling on to Tórshavn today. I hope that isn’t going to be too inconvenient?”

  “Not at all, Inspector. I was planning to do so anyway. I wouldn’t want any of my guests to think that I would abandon them so callously.” We could all hear the Sikorsky approaching by then. Shay excused himself, saying he still had a couple of things to deal with in the control room, and Mads and I carefully moved the students up to the main deck salon.

  Daniels and Verity followed us up. They both seemed to be moving easily enough by then, although Daniels had some pretty nasty ridges of bruised, swollen flesh where the ropes had dug into him. Those marks would take a week or two to disappear entirely. Verity seemed to have got off a lot more lightly, I noticed. There was barely a mark on him.

  The Sikorsky took up a hovering position above us, and I went out to watch the winchman come down and confer with him as to what order he wanted to deal with our human cargo.

  “We can just leave these two strapped in for the flight back if we leave them ‘til last,” he told me, “so let’s get the other four lifted first. Jack’s got paramedic certification, so he can give them a good checking over as they go up.”

  We unhooked Jason’s cradle, and I helped him transfer Signe from the couch and get her securely strapped in. We carried her out, and he rode back up with her. They already had the second cradle ready to hook up, so he was back down again in no time. It didn’t take long for us to get everyone lifted up. As Jordan, the last of the six, rose from the deck, I went back up to the flybridge for a quick radio conference with Jack Morrison.