by J. S. Law
“Answer the question please, Gary,” said Cox, her voice calm.
“No, ma’am, well, yes. I had pictures of her, but she didn’t like it and I stopped. I don’t have pictures anymore.”
Dan paused, thought about what she was hearing.
“Gary, I’m going to ask you now to stand up and accompany me off Defiance and down to the SIB offices so we can talk some more.”
He was still shaking his head.
“No, ma’am, listen…”
“Gary. I want you to pass me your keys to your lockable cabinets and stowages so they can be searched.”
“Nat spoke to me,” he said, but he was looking at Cox, his eyes beseeching, begging her for help.
“Do as you’re asked, please, Gary,” said Cox, smiling at him. “I’ll be down to join you very soon. We’ll sort this out, okay?”
Gary Black looked terrified.
“There’s nothing in my bunk,” he said. “I don’t have any pictures anymore.”
“Stop speaking now, Gary,” said Cox, her voice firm and loud. “Just do as you’ve been asked.”
The two looked at each other for a long time, Dan and John frozen, as though time had stopped, the tension thick.
Then Black seemed to relax, and so did everyone else around him.
Dan felt John exhale and turned to look at him, just as Black lashed out.
“No,” he shouted, his face changing from confusion to anger and then to rage. “I didn’t do anything, we were friends!” He swung an arm to push Dan out of the way as he headed for the door.
The movement of his arm seemed slow, Dan saw it coming, though she wasn’t able to do anything to avoid it.
The strength of Black was unimaginable. His swinging arm hit her and knocked her clean off her feet, slamming her against the bulkhead.
She was dazed for a second but saw John Granger move quickly, grabbing Black’s arm and trying to twist it into an armlock to control him.
Black spun round before John could apply the lock, twisting away, using brute strength and pushing John hard with his other arm.
John stumbled backward.
Black was shouting “No!’ over and over again, and before John and Dan could recover, he darted out the door.
Dan rushed for the door and did a double-take as she saw Josie lying there holding the file Dan had asked for. Black had knocked her over, papers scattering as he barged his way out. Josie rolled over and grabbed at Black’s leg, but she was only able to slow him down for a second before he ripped his leg free and fled.
“Shut the gangway,” shouted John.
Dan knew he’d been speaking to Cox.
“He’s not trying to get off the ship,” said Dan, turning for only a second. “He’s trying to get to something.”
Dan ran out of the compartment and up the ladder, John and Josie close behind her. As she reached the top of the ladder, she stopped and scanned around the flat, then went on up the second ladder.
2-deck was quiet, long, doglegging out of sight, and she listened for footsteps and heard none.
“We should stay together,” said John, arriving beside her.
“We don’t have time,” said Dan. “Josie, with me. John, that way. Don’t engage with him, just find him and call for backup.”
She rushed off along the passageway.
The ship felt vast, long, and open, so many places to hide, but she didn’t think he was going to hide, to leap out and attack her. Dan believed he knew exactly where he was going and exactly what for.
She walked quickly, Josie beside her, and looked into flats and passageways. She recognized where she was, near the officers’ flat, and she stopped, thinking of no reason why he would come this way.
Then, as Dan turned to speak to Josie, he was there.
He grabbed Dan by the collar of her shirt and swung her easily behind him, bashing her off a bulkhead and throwing her into the nearby flat.
Dan landed, skidding along the polished floor, and looked up to see Josie with her arms wrapped around Black’s waist, trying to push him backward against the bulkhead.
Black raised his arm and brought it down hard onto Josie’s back. She slumped to the floor, and Black raised his foot.
“No, Gary, don’t!” screamed Dan, sure that he was going to stamp on Josie, but he looked at her, confused, and stepped over Josie’s body as he headed back along the passageway.
“Are you okay?” said Dan as she checked on Josie.
“I’m fine,” said Josie, sounding angry, already rising to her feet and looking as if she meant business.
They heard a sound from farther along the deck and ran to find John on his back.
“He’s heading for the flight deck!” shouted John, struggling back to his feet.
They ran in that direction, Josie at the front, Dan and John catching up behind. They saw Black disappear through the bulkhead door, Josie reaching out instinctively to grab at it.
Dan pulled her back, watching Josie’s fingers slip away from the heavy metal door as it slammed shut.
“Thank you, ma’am,” said Josie, realizing what might have been.
Dan opened the door again and stepped through it into the hangar, just in time to see Black head left out of the hangar. She followed, hesitating as she realized she’d been right, he wasn’t running for the gangway, wasn’t trying to get off the ship.
She exited the hangar a second behind him and saw him stopped a few meters along the flight deck.
He turned and saw her.
“We were friends,” he said, his voice muffled by the wind.
Dan saw something in his hand, a folder made of thick, buff card.
He held it out in both hands and ripped it in half in a single movement, crumpling the two halves together in one hand as though ready to hurl them away.
Josie pushed past Dan, and John was behind her. She and John surged against Black, taking him off balance and forcing him against the safety railings.
Sarah Cox was there now, watching from the hangar.
Dan saw Black push and fight—not to get free, but to keep the bits of the folder away from them.
He was really starting to fight now and he lashed out with his elbow, Josie ducking out of the way at the last moment, and he was still shouting, “No” like an alarm on repeat.
“Gary!” shouted Dan. “Gary, listen, stop fighting. Stop! I’ll listen to you, I promise, but you have to stop!”
He seemed to relax a bit at the sound of her voice.
“Relax, Gary. I promise you, I’ll listen and I’ll believe you. Okay? I promise you that.”
Gary Black stopped fighting, and John relaxed his grip slightly.
Black juddered suddenly, and they all prepared for another fight. Only none came as he started to cry.
He looked at Dan, and then behind her at Cox.
“No one believes people like me,” he said.
Dan was stunned at the words, drawing breath just in time to see Gary Black stand up and throw out his arms with all the strength he had.
John Granger was a big man, but even he was launched across the flight deck, landing several feet away.
Josie fared worse, staggering back and bouncing off the hangar before she slumped to the deck.
“No one will believe me!” cried Gary, and Dan leaped forward as she watched him place his free hand on the flight deck rail and kick his legs over it, throwing himself into space.
She grabbed for what she could, her fingers brushing against the card and only gripping a few sheets of the torn paper as she watched Gary Black fall toward the dark water far below.
She heard the quartermaster react, heard the Man Overboard drill commence. She looked down at the paper in her hands, at the dim, grainy pictures of Natasha Moore, taken from above as she washed her hair in one of the junior rates’ showers.
30
Natasha Moore—Late January (a few days before her disappearance)
The lights were off as she waited. That
was to make sure there was no warning.
It had been a shitty, stressful few months, and Natasha had taken all she was going to.
She’d spent the leave period in Rio with Mark and it’d been amazing. She’d known that everyone would realize they were together, but everyone seemed to know what they’d done, too.
They talked about it behind her back, whispering all the time, and worse.
One of the girls was shagging a marine in the phone booth, leaving their bloody condoms lying around, and that was just funny.
Natasha has a boyfriend, a proper exclusive relationship, and she’s a slut.
She’d had a great time with Mark, finally understood what all the fuss was about surrounding sex. She’d never wanted it with Jason, and she could see now that her relationship with him had been wrong in many ways, not founded on the right feelings; with Mark, it was different.
He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and she loved it. But someone was out to get them.
She’d had sex with him on the beach in Rio and everyone knew, but that wasn’t the real problem.
Someone had followed them, and there were rumors of some video footage that some of the other junior rates had watched.
Someone was going out of their way to make Natasha’s life miserable, and she’d had enough.
Mark had flown off the ship to go on some rugby tour and they’d agreed she’d just tough it out till he got back, but sleepless nights, no appetite, and the word “SLUT” written next to her bed in permanent marker meant that the waiting was over.
She looked at the door.
It was bright, like a portal to another dimension, as she sat quietly and watched it, planning what she might say, how she might say it.
The doorway darkened just for an instant, and then Gary entered, flicking on the lights. He immediately jumped back.
“Nat,” he said, recovering quickly. “What are you doing in the dark?”
She watched him, probably three times her size, but she felt no fear, just rage.
“I really thought you were my friend,” she said, shaking her head. “I honestly thought we could be friends. You were a bit controlling sometimes, but I put that down to you caring, looking out for me. Then the pictures, and you keeping all my notes…”
“No, Nat—”
“Don’t, Gary, please, don’t. If you’d done nothing wrong, then why did you change what was in your filing cabinet?”
“I…” his words trailed off.
“What I really can’t understand is why you couldn’t just back off. Even if you’d followed me to the park in Naples to see if I was okay, why stay and watch? Why follow me and Mark in Rio, too? I didn’t see you, but I knew you were there.”
“No, Nat…”
“Why videotape me? You’re a filthy, disgusting pervert. And even if you’d watched, which is vile…” Natasha felt her voice start to break. “Why did you have to tell everyone? Why would you let people have the video?”
The first tears rolled down Natasha’s cheek.
“I’ve been called a slut, a whore, a slag. I’ve been asked how much I enjoyed the ‘cock.’ I’ve been asked if I took it in the ass and how much I liked it. I’ve had ‘back door Moore’ scrawled on my stuff, and my locker and bed are full of Cherry Poppers, those chew bars from the naffi, because everyone knows Mark popped my cherry. I’ve been asked if I’ll do more videos and how much I charge. Someone filled out the application paperwork for my ankles to qualify for separation pay. Do you know what I did to deserve all of that?”
“I didn’t do it, Nat, I promise.”
“All I did was have sex with someone I really like, on a night I was a bit tipsy and I wanted to.”
“Nat, I—”
“Stop lying!” Natasha shouted now, standing up, her fists clenched. “Well, I wanted to do you the courtesy that you couldn’t do me. I wanted to tell you straight to your stupid, sick, lying face that I’m going to Cox and then I’m going straight to Commander Ward, and I won’t stop until I’ve done as much damage to your life as you’ve done to mine.”
“Nat, I didn’t—”
“You’re the only one who had my password. You’re the only one who could’ve accessed Jason’s e-mail address. I saw the pictures in your drawers, I saw that you kept all that stuff of mine. I know how you touch me whenever you get the chance. I thought it was by accident, but it isn’t, you’re sick and you make my fucking skin crawl!”
“No…”
Natasha stood up and made for the door.
“Don’t, Nat.” He grabbed for her, gripping her upper arm.
Natasha tried to pull away, but she had no chance.
“I’m going to see Cox to get a meeting with the commanding officer, then I’m going to tell Commander Ward everything. You’re done, don’t make it any worse.”
“No, Nat, don’t go up there, don’t go to see Cox. Please.”
“Get off!” Natasha turned and scratched at his face, drawing blood just below his hairline.
He didn’t even flinch. He just looked at her, gripping her arm so hard that she thought she might cry out, and then he began to sob.
“Don’t go up there,” he said. “Please, Nat, don’t. I’ll tell you everything, all of it, but don’t go up there.”
“Let go!” said Natasha again, the pain of his grip making her wince and bend over as she dug her nails into his hand.
He did, finally. He let go of her, stepping away toward the door, closing it and leaning back against it, his huge shoulders wider than the frame as he blocked her exit.
“I’ll tell you everything, just don’t go up there alone, please,” he begged. “I’ll tell you about her, and then we can go up together, okay? Once you hear, we’ll go together.”
31
Tuesday, February 3
“How you doing?”
John turned his head and smiled, but Dan could see he was wincing.
“He caught me on the nose again,” said John, dropping the smile and shaking his head slowly. “It wasn’t even hard, he just brushed by me, really, but by God, he nailed me good.”
“He’s a big lad,” said Dan.
They were alone on the flight deck, the silence after all the excitement settling on them slowly.
“He’ll be in the hospital for a while, I guess,” she added. “He was unconscious when they fished him out, didn’t look in good shape at all. Almost succeeded in drowning himself.”
John nodded.
“Tell me about Hamilton,” he said. “Why would you go see him? I thought nothing would ever get you back face-to-face with that man.”
“The NCA wanted me to talk to him about some missing women. They thought he might be able to shed some light on an ongoing investigation.”
John sat up straight and looked energized, his sore face forgotten. He looked hungry for information.
“Easy there, Johnny Boy,” said Dan. “Just relax. Nothing particularly interesting doing.”
“Well, and did he help you?”
“He was supremely helpful. I really thought he wouldn’t be, but he pretty much just gave us the name of the bad guy without too much fuss.”
“Really?” said John, surprise on his face.
“No, of course not really. He was an asshole, like he always was. He gave me the name of some ex-navy guy who disappeared off the grid a few years ago. Said he’d be able to help me. The NCA are looking into it, but I think we all know that Hamilton only wants to mess with people.”
“To mess with you,” said John.
“Yeah, to mess with me. He made a big point about how he’d help me, but no one else.”
“What name did he give you?” asked John.
“William Knight.”
John nodded slowly.
“You know him?” asked Dan.
“I remember him. A serial rapist. Used to attack pretty young girls. Picked them up from around the pubs and clubs in Southsea, or he’d follow them, pick up the ones who couldn’t affor
d a taxi, and offer them a ride home. They’d regain consciousness somewhere, we never found out where, and he’d rape them and beat them in almost complete darkness. They’d eventually pass out and wake up again somewhere else, naked and battered. He’s a proper nasty piece of work, that man.”
“What happened?” asked Dan.
“No one knows what happened. The police identified him from some CCTV footage that gave them the plates for his car. They called the military police because Knight was living on board HMS Nelson and they wanted to come and get him. In the time it took them to sort themselves out, enter the base, and get to his accommodation, he was gone and hasn’t ever been seen again. Disappeared.”
“Just gone?”
John hesitated.
“There is another story, maybe a theory, about Knight and where he went. You probably wouldn’t know this, but back in the day, in the eighties and nineties, it was the navy that ran all the doors around Portsmouth. I mean bouncing in the pubs and nightclubs, even working security at the football stadium. They ran it all. It wasn’t official, of course. It started as a group of guys who weren’t on operational ships and they’d supply bodies to the local nightspots. It changed all the time, but there was always a supply of sailors looking for cash, and if you use a sailor for security, you’re less likely to get trouble from other sailors. They turn up on time, look halfway decent, do as they’re told, and they’re grateful for the extra money. They’d set up a few guys with radios at the clubs and pubs and then have a minibus driving around as a mobile response team with a dozen guys in it. If there was trouble, the bus turned up and things got nasty. It was like that right up until around 2001, I think, when licensing and the Security Industry Authority came to be. But by then, it was big money. The core of the guys who ran it all had been in the navy a long time and they decided to leave the forces and set up a company doing it properly. They ran the training courses to get licensed, went legit…”
“Except?” said Dan.
“Except, well, you know as well as I do, if you control who goes in and out of nightclubs, you also control what goes in and out of nightclubs.”
Dan nodded. “So they took over the drug scene?”
