Dangerous Shadows

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by Whitelaw, Stella


  Was he planning to throw her overboard? If that was his plan, he would have done it by now. Tied up, she would have drowned in ten feet of water. No, he had some other plan for her.

  “I’m taking you on a little tour,” he called out. “To the beautiful, unspoilt and rugged scenery of St Lucy’s in the north first. Where the Atlantic meets the Caribbean and the rollers are really big.”

  She would not look at him. It was the eastern coast where Barry went surfing. He’d told her about the great Atlantic rollers.

  “Now you may be wondering why I have not simply tipped you over the side,” he grinned. “You need to do something for me. I need you to write a statement for the authorities that will put me in the clear. Then I may let you go, or I may not.”

  He came over to her and tore the duct tape off her mouth. It hurt as it pulled tiny hairs. He shifted her up into a sitting position. Holly said nothing, leaned against a cupboard. She was starting to feel cold, wearing only her black swimsuit.

  “Feel like doing some cooking, sweetie? You used to be good at cooking at the flat and I’m starving. If you promise not to do anything stupid, I will untie you enough so that you can cook.”

  Holly nodded. She had no idea what she was agreeing to. Jake unlocked her right hand with a key but left her feet loosely shackled so that she could only hobble about. She rose stiffly, feeling the bruises. Her throat and neck hurt. Her right strap was torn and her sandals had gone. She saw blood on her feet.

  “Is there any food?” she whispered. She thought of Luke now sitting down to the pre-wedding supper and wondering where she was.

  “Have a look around. I’m sure Greta laid in a few provisions.”

  Greta? Who was Greta? Holly hobbled round the cabin, keeping out of Jake’s way. She found a small cupboard of tinned provisions. There was some bread and cheese and fruit on the top. She opened a tin of corned beef and a tin of beans, mixed them together and heated them. She added seasoning and noodles. Nothing like the pre-wedding supper at Tiger Bay House. Nothing Cordon Bleu.

  “It’s ready,” she said.

  She put bread and fruit on the table, found knives and forks, wondering if she had the nerve to hit him with the hot saucepan. But she had no idea how to manage the boat. Better to hope that they were spotted by the police.

  “It’s ready,” she said again, sitting down on the bench seat, but he pushed her off onto the floor. She sprawled, hitting the table leg.

  “Who said you were going to eat? If you are really nice, I may let you lick my plate.”

  Holly shuddered. Would she still be alive in the morning? Holly hung onto the thought of loving Luke. She would do anything to see him again, to be able to tell him that she loved him, had always loved him, even through those difficult years.

  *

  Sadie was pushing her new boyfriend for information. She really liked him and the fact that he was a serving Detective Sergeant was a bonus. Sadie had never liked Jake. And she was worried about her friend.

  “I haven’t had an email from Holly for some time,” she told Colin on the phone. “It’s not normal. I’m sure something has happened to her.”

  “OK, we are looking into several fraudulent cheque presentations which are connected to this Jake Furrows or Jake Burrows, whatever he calls himself, but your friend, Holly, is miles away in sunny Barbados, at this special wedding. How can she be involved?”

  “I know something is wrong. I feel it. Can’t you make some enquiries? Can you get onto the Barbados Police Headquarters and see if there is any news?

  “News about what?”

  “Anything. Anything at all. There might be a clue of some sort. It’s just not like her at all.”

  “OK, Sadie, just for you. This is one big favour. Now if I come round later this evening, I shall expect a really warm welcome.” Colin’s voice was teasing. He liked Sadie, too. She was fun.

  “I promise,” Sadie laughed. “But phone me first if you have any news.”

  She had time to bathe and shampoo her hair, wear something clinging and pretty. She put a bottle of white wine and some beer in the refrigerator. She planned to give him a really warm welcome.

  She was wrapped in a bathrobe, towelling her hair when Colin phoned back.

  “The police in Barbados were very helpful. They’ve had a pretty normal couple of days. A local murder in an alley-way, a speedboat stolen from the Careenage, a chap trying to sell stolen jewellery. Nothing that seems connected to your friend Holly in any way.”

  “I suppose that’s relief ”

  “I’ve given them my number and asked them to give me a call if anything odd crops up. I told them you were worried about your bridesmaid friend. They know all about the posh wedding. Apparently they got word about names and addresses of the wealthy guests being collected and are going to put on extra patrols in the residential areas. Can’t be too careful these days.”

  “Thanks for checking,” said Sadie forlornly.

  “Do I still get my warm welcome?”

  “Of course, a warm welcome and a cold beer.”

  *

  The Colonel was still gasping. No one was listening to him. “Ja…Ja…,” he said again and again. No one was listening. He might as well die.

  But he hung onto life. He remembered exploding bombs and motor-fire. He hadn’t survived those days, to die on a cruise ship.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luke waited on the patio, slowly sipping a cold rum-punch. It was made from the orchard’s own plums and was delicious. For the first time in days, he was feeling happy and relaxed. Supper with Holly was all he wanted, what he always wanted. He remembered how he had run away, all those years ago, and he wondered if Holly would ever forgive him.

  That flight from Heathrow to JF Kennedy Airport back then had been an agony. He had suffered every mile, and he had deserved it. He could not imagine how much more Holly had been hurt. It made him feel shallow and despicable. It was the worst thing he had ever done in his life. Somehow he had to make it up to her. He wanted to make it up to her for the rest of her life.

  And he would start on this pre-wedding evening. He would make the occasion a wonderful evening for her. He would make sure Holly had the happiest evening of her visit to Barbados.

  Lily came out to lay the table with mats, napkins, cutlery and glasses. She had recovered from her shock and was back to her cheery self. The cooking brandy had helped. She had drunk the lot.

  “Have you seen Miss Holly?” Luke asked.

  “I think she was going for a quick swim before supper.”

  “Where is she now? Is she still swimming?”

  “I don’t think so, sir. There is no one swimming. I can always hear if someone is swimming. The beach is empty.”

  “Could you check if she is in her room? It’s not like her to be late.”

  “Yes, Miss Holly always punctual.”

  But Holly was not in her room, getting ready for supper. Lily hurried through the rest of the house, looking into every room. There was no sign of Holly. She went back onto the patio.

  “I cannot find Miss Holly. She is not in her room or anywhere.”

  “Did she order a taxi? Has she gone into Bridgetown?”

  Luke grabbed at the chance that Holly might have gone into Bridgetown to talk to Danielle and Barry. There might be things she wanted to say. It was the only explanation. But it was not like her to have gone without telling anyone.

  He took a flash lamp from its hook. “I’m going down onto the beach, just to make sure. She may have fainted or something.”

  “I’ll come with you,” said Lily, taking another lamp. “Miss Holly’s not fainting person. I’ll tell cook to delay supper. We must find Miss Holly.”

  *

  Holly was cold and stiff, handcuffed on the cabin floor. She had found her bundle of clothes but there was no way she could get into them. She struggled to wrap the thick primrose towel round her shoulders as best she could.

  Jake was at the helm,
now steering northwards, close to a rocky coast, but not too close. He was looking for a small sandy cove where he could anchor for the night. He did not fancy a night at sea being carried out into the middle of the Atlantic on those big rollers.

  Holly knew he was dangerous. Her only chance was not to antagonize him but play along with whatever he had decided to do. If he wanted her to write some ridiculous statement, she would do it. Nothing would get the lottery win back so it made no difference to her. It had been washed from her mind a long time ago.

  Her freedom was much more valuable. And a freedom with Luke was a precious dream. She wondered if they had missed her yet. What was Luke thinking? What was he doing? Maybe her thoughts would reach him. Thought transference might work. Lots of people thought it worked. It was her only hope.

  She had washed up the supper things, scraped out what was left of the corned beef and beans in the saucepan and ate it off the spoon, wiped the saucepan round with a knuckle of bread. Jake did not see her. He was busy at the helm, a bottle of cold beer at his side. He seemed to have forgotten about her. He still had Barry’s card. He was wondering how he could use it to his advantage.

  *

  Luke and Lily went down the garden steps, flashing the lamps, calling Holly’s name. The beach was dark now, only lit by a moon waning by the hour. Even the stars did not seem so bright, wisps of cloud veiling their brilliance. And the sea was black, its luminescence swallowed into the night.

  “Holly, Holly, are you here?”

  “Miss Holly! We-z looking for you.”

  Luke spotted the double trail made by her heels digging into the sand. He flashed the light over them, his heart thudding. He knew what they meant. He saw larger footprints alongside, a distinctive trainer sole outlined.

  “Don’t tread on these marks,” he told Lily. “It looks as if someone or something was dragged over the sand. Let’s hope the tide won’t wash it away.”

  “High tide already been gone,” she said. High and low tide were part of the routine of life.

  He moved further along the beach where there was a deep furrow made by a boat being pulled ashore and a trample of scuffed sand. Then he found a broken branch and a nearby rock embedded in the sand.

  “Lily, will you go back to the house and call the police? Tell them that Miss Holly has disappeared and we have some evidence that she has been abducted.”

  “Yes, sir. I go quick. I ring Bridgetown police.”

  He heard her running back along the sand, then suddenly she called out.

  “Mr Kenyon. Come quick. Look what I have found.”

  He walked quickly to Lily’s side. She was holding something dangling towards him. He could barely think straight, hoping it was not the worst.

  “Miss Holly’s sandals. These are her sandals. Perhaps she has swum out and been caught by the rip tide. Them rip tides are bad.”

  Luke took the flat strap fastening sandals, covered in sand. “I don’t think she went swimming,” he said, his voice low.

  “I saw her in her usual black swimsuit. It had dried from her morning swim.”

  “But there’s no towel. Holly wouldn’t go swimming down here without a towel. She isn’t that kind of person. She would never drip water over the house, coming in to change for supper.”

  “You right, sir. I saw her carrying a towel, tucked under her arm.”

  “So if we find the towel, we’ll find Miss Holly.”

  It was supposed to be a joke, a poor one, to help lighten the fear and the blanket of gloom descending on Tiger Bay Plantation House. Lily didn’t know if she was supposed to smile.

  “I go phone police now. What shall I tell cook about supper?”

  “Put it on hold. Tell her that the police will probably be delighted to have something decent to eat.”

  *

  They gave the colonel a couple of extra pillows so that he was propped up in bed. He still couldn’t speak but his inbred politeness made him an easy patient to take care of. His eyes said he was grateful for everything. He loved the view. He always loved water, whether it was river or ocean, sea or brook.

  Lucy was one of his favourites. She was a sweet nurse, always had something interesting to tell him. She told him about his being flown home in an air ambulance from Barbados, how they had looked after him. How pleased they were when he came out of the coma.

  “You were on a cruise, one of those big white liners cruising the Caribbean. I’ve never been on a cruise. I’ve never been to Barbados. It must be lovely there.”

  His eyes smiled at her. He tapped his wrist.

  “Why do you keep tapping your wrist, Colonel? You keep doing it. It’s quite puzzling.”

  His eyes flashed a message but Lucy was lost. Then suddenly she thought she had got it. “Of course, you want to know the time! It’s a quarter past three. Look, there’s a clock on the wall. And over there is Big Ben, you can just see it.”

  Lucy hoped he would be pleased at her guess work. But he wasn’t. He slumped back on his pillows and closed his eyes.

  “Oh dear, I didn’t get it right, did I? This is like some complicated game on television. I know you can hear me. Can you give me some more clues?”

  He opened his eyes again and looked directly at her arm. Lucy was writing something on his chart. He stared at her arm. It was disconcerting. Lucy wondered if she had got a smudge or some residue on it that shouldn’t be there. She was particular about her appearance.

  Then she realized that he was staring at her watch. It was a moment of revelation. She bent close to him, her voice soft and slow.

  “My watch. Is that it? Are you asking about your watch? Should there be a watch on your wrist and it has gone. Am I right this time?”

  The look on his face was one of relief. He was getting through to someone at last. They were beginning to understand him. He was alive and he would recover slowly. He hadn’t fought in two wars for nothing.

  “I’ll report this and make some enquiries,” said Lucy. “What kind of watch was it?”

  He tried. “R..r… r… r…,” he struggled to say.

  “A Rolex?” Lucy suggested brightly. He nodded. “Of course it would be a Rolex, wouldn’t it? The only kind of watch a military gentleman on a cruise would wear. And you want to know where it is. No worry, I’ll ask around. It’s a promise. Now, would you like a cup of tea?”

  He nodded again. Tea would be perfect now. Lucy was perfect. One day he would pay for her to go on a cruise.

  *

  Jake anchored in the smallest of coves. Holly crawled out of the cabin and onto the foredeck. There were towering black rocks on either side and a slither of sand leading to a cove that was only big enough for a picnic. She could see no path leading down to the cove. No one could get to it except by boat.

  She leaned on the side, letting the night breeze ruffle her hair, taking in deep breaths of the reviving oxygen. She was near to tears but knew she must not show any weakness to Jake. She had to be strong and determined to get through this. It was her only chance.

  “Don’t even think of hopping ashore,” he said, standing beside her, another bottle of beer in his hand. He was getting through the owners stock. “You’d never manage to climb those cliffs and this part of the coast is isolated, miles from anywhere.”

  “I’m too tired to hop ashore,” she said as pleasantly as she could. It was an effort. “This is a lovely cove.”

  “Dozens of them, all along this coast, only assessable by boat. So no one will find us. Don’t suppose your boyfriend Barry is even looking for you. Too busy drinking at the groom’s stag party.”

  Of course, Jake didn’t know about the change of status. He would think that the best man was her boyfriend. He would jump to that conclusion.

  “I wonder how much your boyfriend would pay to get you back safely,” he went on. “I hear he’s loaded.”

  She was going to say not a lot, as she was not Barry’s girlfriend, then changed her mind. “Quite a lot, I should think,” she s
aid instead. “And he is loaded.”

  “So things are looking good. I might keep you alive for a few more days. Count yourself lucky.” He threw her a blanket. “You can sleep out here. I’m having the bunk bed. You made me sleep on that sofa-bed which was damned uncomfortable. I haven’t found their whiskey yet. There must be a bottle around.”

  It was a relief to see Jake go back in the cabin and shut the door. The decking was hard but she found a waterproofed cushion which someone had sat on once. Maybe used by the owner of the cosmetics, drinking her lunch time gin and tonic while watching the world go by. Somehow it was a comforting thought. The owners of the boat would have reported its loss to the police. Maybe they would start searching for the boat when it got light.

  Her legs were still shackled, and her wrists again, but somehow she managed to wrap herself in the blanket, the towel over her shoulders, the cushion for her head.

  And she had the stars for a ceiling but they were not as bright as usual.

  “Luke,” she murmured. “Are you thinking of me? Are you looking for me?”

  *

  The Royal Barbados Police Force arrived within twenty minutes. They were efficient and swift. Although a missing person was not counted as missing until twenty-four hours had elapsed, and they had a long list of missing people, this was different. There was evidence of an abduction. And Tiger Bay Plantation House was one of the graded colonial buildings on the island. The report had to be taken seriously.

  They tramped down onto the beach, stringing SOC tape along where the drag marks and footprints were.

  “A small SB 770 20-foot speedboat was reported as stolen this morning from the Careenage, Bridgetown. This might be it. The sand furrows are right for the size. Any vessel heavier would have made a deeper furrow in the sand, maybe with a lurch to one side. Anything smaller would have been drawn right up onto the sand and there is no evidence of that.” The officer knew what he was talking about.

  “Can you start searching for it?” Luke asked. “You’ve helicopters, haven’t you? Holly obviously put up a struggle. You can see that.”

  “I agree. The drag trail indicates a struggle. We’d never spot the speedboat in the dark but first thing tomorrow morning we will start a search along the western side of the island. He’ll soon run out of fuel. The couple had come ashore to re-fuel. The owner’s keys and wallet were stolen while they were having a drink in a bar.”

 

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