Bluewater Bullion: The Seventh Novel in the Caribbean Mystery and Adventure Series (Bluewater Thrillers Book 7)

by Charles Dougherty

  "Go for it. I'll be fine. Want to meet for lunch somewhere?"

  "Sure. Let's come back here and take the dinghy across to that place." Liz gestured at an open-air restaurant on the other side of the harbor.

  "See you in a bit, then," Dani said, getting up and going ashore.

  ****

  Dani found Samuel having a late breakfast of a salt-fish patty and fruit juice. She approached his shaded picnic table and paused until he looked up.

  "Good morning, Samuel. "

  "Good morning, captain. How are you this morning?"

  '"Fine, thanks. And you?"

  "The Lord woke me up this morning. I'm glad for the day."

  "May I sit with you?"

  "Yes, please, ma'am." He nodded.

  As she sat down, Dani reached into the paper bag she carried and took out a soft drink. She wiped the bottle with a paper napkin and twisted off the top. Taking a sip, she said, "You told me yesterday that you were always around here."

  "Mostly, I am."

  "I wondered if you saw anyone around late yesterday who didn't belong here."

  Samuel put down his pastry and chewed thoughtfully. Raising his eyes to meet Dani's gaze, he asked, "How do you mean?"

  "Someone picked the lock and boarded our boat while we were out to dinner last night. I thought you might have noticed if there was someone suspicious hanging around."

  He nodded. "I see. A thief?"

  "Possibly, but he didn't take anything. He was making pictures of our documents when we surprised him."

  "He got away, then?"

  "Yes."

  "You call the police?"

  "No, I thought it would waste their time and ours."

  "Mm-hmm," he nodded and picked up his patty, taking a small bite and thinking as he chewed.

  "There are a couple of local men who have addictions. Sometimes, they steal from the boats to buy drugs." He shook his head. "But I know one of them, he in jail right now. The other, I don't see him lately. Did you get a good look at this man?"

  "Well, he was moving fast, but he was a little taller than I am, and thin, with curly dark blond hair, a bit longer than mine."

  He shook his head. "Nobody like that. There was a white man at the bar over there who acted strange, but he was bigger. Wearing a shirt with big flowers. He took some pictures when that man who visits your boat each day came by — pictures of the man getting on your boat. Mostly, he sat in the bar and read a book, but he was watching people. Watching hard. You know what I mean?"

  Dani nodded. "Have you seen him this morning?"

  "No, ma'am. But I t'ink he stayin' at the Admiral's Inn. You know Josie, over there?" He motioned at the open-air bar overlooking the quay.

  Glancing over, Dani shook her head.

  "She the bartender on the early shift. My cousin. Come — we go ask her."

  Samuel stood up, leaving his breakfast spread out on the table. Dani followed him over to the bar where a handsome woman about Samuel's age polished glassware. The woman smiled as they walked in.

  "Samuel," she said in a soft, lilting voice.

  "Good morning, Josephine." Turning to Dani, he said, "This is my frien', from the big ketch, Vengeance. 'Fraid I don't know your name, captain."

  "I'm Dani. Nice to meet you, Josephine."

  "Josie, please. Samuel jus' call me Josephine 'cause he like to tease me." She winked at Dani, a warm smile on her face.

  "Dani wondered about the mon in the flowery shirt," Samuel said.

  "Strange mon," Josie said. "Stayed here all day, buying rum punch and pouring it out in the sink when he t'ink nobody lookin'. Billy Bones say he do the same t'ing all afternoon."

  "Billy Bones?" Dani asked.

  "The other bartender. He take the afternoon shift," Josie explained. "The mon was stayin' at the Inn wit' he wife. She strange, too. Sit in the lobby all day, watchin' people, makin' pictures sometimes. My sister, Ruth, she work at the front desk. She notice this woman. Woman don't leave the lobby all day, 'til early evening, when the mon in the flower shirt come back. They go up to their room, an' then in a little time, the woman come back down, by herself. She dress like a man, this time. She go out for a little while, then come back, out of breath, like, lookin' over she shoulder, like somebody mebbe chase. She go up to the room then."

  "What did she look like?" Dani asked.

  Josie thought about that for a moment. "Little bit mo' tall than you. Slender; built like a man. No hips, big shoulders. She hair, it curly like yours, but some darker, an' a bit longer."

  "Are they still here?" Dani asked.

  Josie shook her head. "Check out this morning; order taxi to the airport 'bout an hour past."

  "But there aren't any flights this time of morning," Samuel protested.

  "They go to the private terminal."

  "You don't happen to remember their names?" Dani asked.

  "Smith. Mr. and Mrs. John Smith."

  "Thanks, Josie. You've been a big help."

  "Sure. No problem, Dani." Josie smiled, hesitating for a moment. "Say," she said, "Samuel workin' fo' you today?"

  "Not today, but I'll have something for him one of these trips, I'm sure. Why?"

  "Because he momma call. She say if he not workin' she got stuff fo' him to do on the farm." Josie grinned at Samuel.

  "What you tell her, Josie?"

  "That you ver' busy mon, workin' hard."

  "Thank you."

  "No problem, but I t'ink you mus' buy me lunch today." She laughed.

  Dani reached into her pocket and took out a couple of rumpled Eastern Caribbean bank notes. Passing them to Samuel, she said, "Lunch is on me today, folks."

  None of them noticed the man who had been standing next to the desk, scanning the rack of tourist brochures while they talked. Except for the large, complicated looking camera hanging from his neck, he was nondescript. He blended into his surroundings like a chameleon, but he had heard every word that passed among the three people at the desk. He watched Dani and Samuel leave and then moved across to the restaurant, as unobtrusive as a wisp of thin smoke.

  ****

  The man with the big camera had spent the day strolling around Nelson's Dockyard, meticulously photographing everything, including the boats at the quay and the people on them. He was such a stereotypical tourist that no one paid any attention to him, not even Dani and Liz, who were on high alert. He had been standing in plain sight only 50 yards from Vengeance when he had called in his morning report.

  "It's Alex," he said, listening for a moment.

  "Yeah, I'm in place. No problems. Send in the rest of the team, but they'd better stay somewhere else." He listened again.

  "Because this place is like a small town, that's why. No stranger goes unnoticed. The women on Vengeance made Tom and Alicia." There was an explosion of tinny sound from the phone.

  When it subsided, the man spoke in his flat, uninflected voice, not reacting to having been soundly cursed by the person on the other end. "Tom may have thought that, but he was wrong. They nailed Alicia, too. I heard the curly-haired one describe her to somebody, but she thought Alicia was a man." He waited for the laughter to subside. "I don't get it. You think Alicia would be pleased that the woman saw her that well?" He listened, frowning.

  After he hung up, he sat, thinking. He couldn't believe that deskman; the guy was unprofessional; he had to be a liability to the firm. They were getting sloppy with their hiring now, with all the returning vets to pick from. He had insisted on handpicking his surveillance team when they sent him in to clean up after those two bunglers; he should have demanded a new deskman, as well.

  Chapter 9

  Vengeance was running wing and wing before a brisk easterly wind as they sailed through the narrow channel between Cade's Reef and the mainland of Antigua. Dani was intent on steering; the challenge of having the wind dead behind them with the mainsail on the port tack and the Yankee on the starboard was intense.

  Liz was focused on the boat too
, the working sheet of the Yankee wrapped twice around the winch in front of her and clutched in both hands. The staysail was sheeted in tightly, almost on the centerline of the boat; it helped to damp the rolling motion as Vengeance ran free before the wind. At a slight shift in wind direction, Dani pulled the helm down to keep the main from being taken aback, and Liz simultaneously eased the Yankee sheet to keep the big headsail drawing. The morning was silent except for the soft hiss as Vengeance cut through the smooth water.

  "Well done, you two," Gerald remarked, coming up into the cockpit just as they executed the maneuver.

  "Thanks," Dani said. "Most of our guests wouldn't have noticed. You sail, don't you?"

  "Not if I can help it, but I have put in some time. My father was a serious ocean racer, so I didn't have much choice when I was growing up."

  "I'm surprised you booked us, then," Liz said. "Don't get me wrong, but wouldn't a motor yacht have served your purpose better?"

  "Possibly, but I needed to refresh my memories of cruising the islands under sail."

  "For your book?" Dani asked.

  "Exactly."

  "Was Phaedra a sailing vessel?" Dani asked.

  "Yes. Why do you ask?"

  "I thought most of the blockade runners were steamships."

  "Oh. Probably so, but she wasn't built for that use. She was a big island schooner, built down here somewhere. They used her for all sorts of trading before the Civil War."

  "I see. And you said she was bound from Savannah to Barbuda?"

  "Right. Why the sudden curiosity?"

  "Did Nick tell you about our visitor?" Dani countered.

  "Visitor? No. What visitor?"

  Dani and Liz exchanged glances, surprised. Before either could respond, Gerald asked, "What's this visitor got to do with your interest in Phaedra?"

  "That's the question," Dani said. "Whoever it was left a camera on board when we surprised him, ... uh, actually, we think it was a her, not a him."

  "You don't know if your visitor was male or female?"

  "Visitor's a euphemism," Liz explained. "While Dani and I were out to dinner night before last, someone picked the lock and boarded Vengeance. We came back and surprised her."

  "And she left a camera?" Gerald looked perplexed.

  "Yes. She got away — sprinted off into the night. But she left a camera that had what looked like surveillance photos of you and Nick, along with copies of our ship's papers," Liz said. "She was trying to get into Nick's case when we scared her off."

  "He left it aboard? I've never seen him without it," Gerald said, his eyebrows rising.

  "He said he forgot it when he dropped off the circuit boards," Dani explained.

  "Hmm," he said. "What did you mean, 'surveillance photos,' anyway?"

  "There was a shot of Nick boarding Vengeance, and a couple of shots of you in the dining room at the hotel with a woman dressed for the beach," Liz said.

  "Marilyn Muir," he said, looking thoughtful.

  "Is she someone you know?" Dani asked.

  "Not really. She's a fan, I guess. Recognized me from the picture on the jacket of my latest book and introduced herself."

  "There was one of the two of you having lunch," Liz said.

  "Right. She approached me as we were having breakfast. We did get together for lunch later."

  "Seen her since?" Dani asked. "I don't mean to be nosy, but something strange is going on here."

  "That's okay. We had dinner last night; we've sort of hit it off, I guess. You don't think she had anything to do with this, do you?"

  "I don't know."

  "Did you call the police about the prowler?"

  "No," Liz said. "There wasn't much point. Nothing was taken; there was no damage. It would have just been a hassle."

  Gerald nodded, frowning. "I'd think petty theft was pretty common around yachts down here."

  "It's not unusual. The cops would have no doubt written off this incident as one more bungled attempt," Dani said. "But ..." she paused, searching for an inoffensive way to continue her questioning.

  "But you don't think that explains it, do you?" Gerald said.

  "No, it doesn't. Petty thieves don't make pictures of the guests on the boats they rob. They don't copy the ship's papers, either. Somebody's checking you out."

  "Or you two," Gerald said in a reasonable tone.

  "Well, that could be, I suppose," Liz interjected, seeing the storm clouds forming on Dani's face. "But the real question is why anyone would be watching any of us."

  "Yeah, you're right," Gerald said. "You think someone's curious about my search for Phaedra?"

  "Could be," Dani said. "Maybe somebody pegged you for a treasure hunter. I've heard that can get pretty competitive."

  "But Phaedra's not Nuestra Señora de Atocha. And I'm not a famous treasure hunter, either."

  "Nick said he worked for a treasure hunter," Liz said.

  "Yeah, that's true. You think somebody picked up on us because of his presence?"

  "We're just trying to make sense out of this," Dani said. "The coincidence of your encounter with that Muir woman on the day of the break-in is curious. Do you know much about her?"

  "No, but she doesn't seem like she'd ... I don't think ... I mean, she's a rich young widow. Bored, looking for excitement and romance."

  "Where's she from?" Liz asked.

  "Atlanta. At least that's where she lives. If you mean originally, I don't know. I'll ask her; we're going to get together this evening, if we get back to Jolly Harbour early enough."

  Vengeance cleared Johnson's Point on the southwest corner of Antigua, allowing them to take up a more northerly course. Dani watched the contour of the shoreline in silence for a couple of minutes, measuring the angles as she evaluated the shifting wind.

  "Let's jibe. I think we can almost lay a course to Barbuda from here. The wind will back some off the north end of Antigua," she said.

  Liz cleated the Yankee sheet and moved to the mainsheet winch. "Ready when you are," she said.

  "Here goes; sheet it in." Dani turned the helm, bringing the stern through the wind.

  Liz cranked madly on the mainsheet winch, at first fighting to pull the sail in against the stiff breeze. She ducked as the leech of the main passed through the eye of the wind and the sail snapped across, filling from the other side and jerking the remaining slack from the sheet. Dani fought the helm as the force of the sail tried to turn their bow into the wind. Liz snatched the sheet from the self-tailing mechanism on the big winch and let the sail pull it through her gloved hands. Judging that the sail was in the proper attitude for their intended course, Liz applied pressure, stopping the sheet and wedging it once again in the tailing mechanism.

  "How's that?" Liz asked, glancing over her shoulder at Dani.

  "Okay for now; let's see how she settles."

  Liz turned her attention to the Yankee. The sail was flogging, the sheet slack as the wind was now much closer to their bow. She cranked in the sheet, watching as the sail assumed a smooth shape and went silent. Feeling Vengeance surge forward with the increased power from the sail, Liz moved to the staysail sheet winch, easing the over-trimmed sail until it, too, was drawing. She made a minor adjustment to the Yankee sheet to compensate for the change in the airflow from the staysail. Satisfied with the two headsails, she moved back to the mainsheet winch. Liz studied the mainsail, deciding that it was luffing slightly as a result of being in the disturbed air from the headsail slot. She cranked in a couple of turns, watching as the sail filled nicely again.

  She looked back at Dani, who nodded, grinning.

  "She's liking it. Nine and a half knots on a beam reach in flat water. Life doesn't get much better, Liz."

  "Even I'd have to agree," Gerald said, momentarily falling under the spell of a fine ship, well sailed.

  Nick appeared in the companionway. "May as well trail the fish," he said, referring to the sensors for his instruments. He stepped back to the stern rail and untied them, droppi
ng first one and then the other into the water and paying out line until he was satisfied with their positions relative to the boat and each other.

  ****

  In Falmouth Harbour, Merrill Bond sat in the cockpit of Pisces of Atë, drinking a last cup of coffee. His two crewmen were making ready to raise the anchor and leave the protected harbor. They were going to make a leisurely run to Barbuda, just to get a feel for things. Pisces of Atë was a 65-foot sport-fishing boat that Bond had fitted out for exploration and light-duty salvage work. She was capable of a good turn of speed, and she didn't attract any attention when they were running search patterns. If anyone noticed her at all, it was only to wonder why they were trolling for fish in such shallow water.

  They had gotten in yesterday after a three-day run down from Miami; he had called Thompson yesterday morning to let him know where they were. Now that he was in place, Bond had told Thompson to resume his search with Gerald. Thompson had turned on the satellite tracker that he carried about an hour ago; Bond had watched on his laptop as Vengeance rounded Johnson's Point. He was pleased at how well his new broadband satellite Internet access system worked.

  It was amazing to him that such technology was even available. It was expensive, but he could go online anywhere on the surface of the earth. Together with the satellite tracker that Thompson carried, the system made it possible for him to monitor Vengeance's whereabouts almost in real time. He could stay out of sight over the visual horizon and still keep up with his quarry.

  He hadn't yet decided how he would handle things if Yates and Thompson found the wreck first. He was considering several options that ranged from blowing his competition out of the water with a shoulder-fired rocket to several less dramatic but more complex schemes. Those all involved having Thompson give Yates a false location, leading Vengeance away from the wreck while allowing Pisces of Atë to undertake the recovery.

  Although it would be more challenging to salvage Phaedra without destroying Vengeance and her crew, Bond thought it would be less trouble in the long run. He'd prefer to avoid attracting the attention that would result from an explosion at sea so near Antigua and Barbuda. There were always too many boats around for something like that to pass unnoticed.