The Color of Sin

by Paul Westwood

  Chapter 11

  “This one hell of a nice boat you have here,” I said to Keith.

  He slowly nodded, showing nothing but a toothy grin that was as artificial as a stripper’s smile. He put a paw on Valerie’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. I could see that his hands were tough and strong as old leather.

  He asked, “What kind of line are you in?” It was a friendly conversation that anyone could have but there was an undercurrent of suspicion that caught me off-guard.

  I thought of a quick lie. “Line? Oh, you mean what do I do for a living? I work in electronic sales - mostly high-end audio and theater installations. Of course once the real estate market dropped out, sales have really slowed. No one wants to spend money on that kind of junk anymore.”

  His hand dropped down and gave the poor girl a squeeze on her arm. Valerie gave him a weak smile and then looked at me, her eyes flashing was anger. She obviously expected me to intervene. Instead I did nothing, even as he began stroking the side of her thigh in a languid fashion. It was plain that he had no real interest in her but instead was trying to get a rise out of me. I wasn’t taking the bait.

  Keith finally gave up and dropped his hand back to his side. He made a fist that clenched and unclenched. “So things are a little tight?”

  “Yes, but I make enough to pay the bills.”

  “That’s good to know. Have a good time.” And then he turned on his heel and stalked off to the pilot’s chair. There he sat, beer bottle held loosely in his hand and only rarely coming to rest on those thick lips.

  Valerie’s face was flushed red with anger. “Why didn’t you do anything to stop him groping me?”

  “I’m not your bodyguard,” I replied. “He seemed quite familiar with you and I don’t know where the two of you stand. You can’t expect me to start swinging at everyone you don’t like. Before you know it, I would be in jail or have a busted up face.”

  “Get me a drink,” she demanded, unable to look me in the eyes.

  “Okay,” I said acting contrite. Valerie was my ticket to getting close to Keith so this was no time for a spat. I needed to stay onboard to put my plan in action.

  I walked away, forcing my shoulders to slump and my head to be bowed forward. I had to look suitably chastened when I came back. I spent the next few minutes wandering over the small space of the boat. I went down below into the little kitchenette, which was well-stocked with booze, and then poked my head into the two bedrooms and the bathroom. I really wasn’t expecting the gold to fall in my lap, but I did want to get a feel for the ship and the location of anything out of the ordinary. In the kitchen I pushed past two college kids, grabbed a pair of beers from the refrigerator, and then ducked into a short staircase down to the lowest part of the ship. I opened a steel door to look inside this deck. There was nothing here but a pair of silent diesel engines, the electric generator – which was humming along nicely – and some tools sitting on a heavy-duty workbench. The lights were bare bulbs. Coils of ropes and boat bumpers were hanging on hooks on the wall. My minute search once again revealed nothing of note.

  I hurried back to the top deck. I located Valerie and gave her one of the beers. She looked a little less angry with me but still touchy enough that I had to be careful. She put her arm in the crook of mine. We talked and walked, greeting the other partiers but mostly sticking close to her friends. Valerie was putting down the alcohol hard, drinking whatever she could lay her hands on. I didn’t try to stop her – I had my own reasons why – and spent my time fetching whatever she asked for. As for myself, I switched to vodka and tonic, minus the vodka.

  The crowd here was getting drunker and drunker; all leering smiles and pressed flesh. Above this all, wrapped in his own thoughts, was Keith Miller. He sat glued to that captain’s chair with that silly grin pasted on that tanned face. It was unnerving the way he watched the assembled partiers. He really did think that he was a wolf among sheep, able to do and take whomever he wanted. And it wasn’t long before I realized that his attention wasn’t on Valerie, but Ella. And the reason why was obvious – she was the most sensitive of the lot; the one who could be driven to the edge of despair and possibly to her doom. Keith didn’t want a hardy playmate who could take his abuse. Valerie and Sarah would be all tears, but they would bounce back to live another day. Instead he wanted someone he could hurt permanently – perhaps by the ultimate thrill: death. Ella, with all her clumsiness, was the one and there was nothing that anyone, including her boyfriend, could do about it. But Keith hadn’t counted on me. I wouldn’t give him the chance.

  The hours rolled by and the guests began to leave one by one. Valerie was drunk as hell and could only stand by leaning against me. From time to time she would whisper in my ear, promising some unworldly pleasures if I dragged her back to my cabin. Instead I would laugh and promise that we would be leaving soon. Ella stayed close to her boyfriend, the two of them looking quite the worse for wear; all haggard and sleepy. Sarah and Thomas had disappeared somewhere below deck, ostensibly do lie down and recover from the alcohol intake.

  Once the other guests were gone, Keith rose from his chair and approached us. He had been drinking very little and appeared as sober as a pastor on Sunday morning. Those eyes were unblinking and unfathomable. “How are you holding up?” he asked me.

  “Nothing another drink can’t fix,” I replied, slurring my words on purpose.

  “It seems that our playmates needed to have a little lie down. What do you think about going on a little cruise so we can check out the canyon in the moonlight? It’s quite the sight.”

  I looked at Valerie. She was trying to make sense of the conversation but was clearly failing. She mumbled something indistinct and then her head slumped against my chest.

  I replied, “I fear any kind of motion will leave you with a very messy boat. This whole lot will be seasick once we’re underway. To tell you the truth, I may have to join them in the bathroom if the motion gets too violent.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Keith said. “Take her below while I get the lines.”

  “Okay,” I carefully responded. I had an uneasy sensation that he wanted to get away from the shore so he could lower the boom on me. But that didn’t make any sense, unless he was so enraged about Valerie that he wanted to have his revenge. But I had an ace in the hole, a hidden gun and no fear of using it. Once we were out on the lake, the situation would be to my advantage.

  Valerie wobbled drunkenly as I took her down to the deck below. There she slumped on the low sofa that was integrated into the space-saving kitchen table. From the nearest bedroom I could hear Sarah and Thomas involved in some seriously loud intercourse. It was an odd sound that only heightened the weirdness of the situation. The diesels suddenly caught and the boat moved queasily under my feet. I was no sailor and I gulped, steeling my stomach against the lurches and unsteadiness that were about to come.

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” I told Valerie. “Why don’t you have a rest?”

  “Come back soon, lover. I need you.”

  I leaned over and kissed her chastely on the cheek. She was a good kid in a bad place. Before she could make things more interesting, I went back up.

  By the time I reached the top deck, the boat was moving forward at a sluggish pace, slipping past the parked ships safe in their slips. The stars grew brighter as we drew away from the artificial light of the marina. Along the shore the darkened cabins stood in mute silence to the little drama that was about to unfold. Keith was at the helm, one hand on the wheel and the other on the throttle. Ella and Brady were on a nearby padded bench, the both of them looking a little green. I went and joined them but remained standing since the motion of the ship was more bearable in that position.

  “Beautiful night,” Keith said. His voice was low and cold. He talked as he steered keeping his eye on the water in front.

  With the moon reflecting on the water
and the high moon-like cliffs and hills throwing long dark shadows it would have been a wonderful picture. I was, however, too keyed up to care for the scenery. There was danger in the air. I could smell it.

  “Yes it is,” I finally answered.

  “So, Devon, were you ever in the army?”

  “No, I’m not what you call the military type. You could call me a pacifist.”

  He let out a chuckle. “Is that so? I was in the army – a Green Beret and all.”

  “That’s the special forces, right? That must have been a tough life.”

  “Yes, I saw plenty of fighting. I was over in Afghanistan and Iraq. Did you ever have to fight to save your life or the life of your comrades?”

  He glanced at me. I saw that his eyes were narrowed with concentration; almost as if he was trying to look through my skin and into my heart. It was an unsettling feeling but I had met – and even beaten – men who were tougher than him. At least that’s what I told myself to steady the old nerves.

  I said, “I’ve been in a few scrapes, but hardly anything life-threatening. I imagine my experiences can’t compare to anything you saw over there.”

  “Damn straight.”

  Keith suddenly jerked the throttle forward and the diesels really began to pour it on. I momentarily lost my footing. It was then that Keith turned and swung a big wide fist at my head. It was an obvious move and I was ready for it, but I was still off balance when I dodged. I moved my head to the side but his blow connected with the side of my neck. It was powerful, sending a ribbon of red pain shooting down my side. I went with the motion and kept falling backwards, bringing up my right leg for a kick to his groin. It would have connected with any other man, but he was fast as a snake. He jumped to the side. My foot struck his thigh which was nothing but muscled rock.

  I took a step back and regained my footing. I could see Bradley and Ella frozen in their seats, staring at us with eyes wide open. The unexpected violence had caught them off-guard. It would be another few seconds before they would react with the normal squeals of protest.

  This time I tried a feint with my left hand, making it look as if I was going in for a lazy roundhouse punch. As that arm moved, I brought up my right and went for a blow to the throat. But it felt as if I was a half step behind Keith. With ease, he ignored my left and blocked my right with a sweeping forearm. I took that moment and went in for a stomp to the ankle, hoping to really cripple the bastard. But once again he expected that move and danced away before I could connect. If I couldn’t match Keith in a fair fight, I told myself, than I would have to put an end to this now.

  My hand shot for the pistol tucked in my waistband. But my shirt was in the way. That extra second of struggling to free the gun was a century too long. He took a step toward me. I lifted the barrel up but it was too late. He must have known I was packing and wanted to neutralize that threat as quickly as possible. I felt his hand, which was as tight as iron, grab my wrist and squeeze. The other hand bunched up into a fist which began pummeling me in the mid-section. It felt like hammer blows against my stomach muscles. I could feel myself gasping for air and my gun hand begin to go numb. I could smell the beer on his breath. He seemed unbeatable – immovable – the winner.

  The most important lesson when learning how to fight is to do the unexpected. According to Keith’s instincts, I would continue to concentrate on bringing up the gun to fire, letting my body take the punishment in the vain hope that I could fire in time to stop him. If I was the type to panic, that would have been the obvious move. Instead I jerked my head forward and my forehead connected with his nose. I could feel the bone underneath give away with a sickening crunch. He gave out a brief grunt, the only indication that he really could feel pain. However, the shock was enough that his grip loosened and the blows stopped pelting my stomach. I had the gun barrel up now and I fired it directly into his gut.

  The little twenty-five caliber bullet should have made a hole in that damned flesh – if he had been standing there. Instead Keith twisted away just in time. The bullet whistled out above the open water making me wish I had somehow smuggled a shotgun on board. I pulled the trigger again, but his arm came down - the hand formed like an axe. The chopping motion went right across my outstretched gun hand as I fired. The bullet went into the floor. The pistol fell to the ground and went skittering across the deck. I had nothing left but the knife taped underneath my neck, but I would have no chance to reach for that last-ditch weapon. I would have to win by strength and guile, which hadn’t proved to be very successful so far.

  The audience for our struggle finally came to life. Ella let out a scream while Bradley decided to stand and protest.

  He said, “What’s going on here?”

  Keith and I ignored this interruption. At worst the boy would try to break up the fight, but the appearance of a gun apparently deterred any heroic action on his part.

  The boat had been going at a good clip with no one to steer. It wouldn’t be long before we ran into something. I looked momentarily past my attacker and saw that a length of shore was approaching fast. It was all rocks and would surely rip the bottom of the hull open. Keith must have caught the concern on my face, for he quickly turned and grabbed the wheel and violently spun it. The deck tilted to an alarming degree, sending Bradley in a wild fall, all feet and scrambling hands. It would have been funny if it wasn’t for the gravity of the situation. He fell face forward on to the floor. Luckily I had braced myself against the railing and suffered no ill effects.

  I took this moment to launch myself forward, aiming low for Keith’s feet. He was in the middle of turning to face me and tried to step away from my attack, but my broad arms swept up his ankles. Down he went, striking the back of his head against the dashboard. He was momentarily stunned, sitting on the floor with blinking eyes that were unable to focus. I rolled up on my knees and cocked my fist back, ready to deliver the killing blow. But before I could swing, I felt somebody grab my hand. It was Bradley, who had finally decided that now was a good time to intervene. He had both of his hands pulling against my arm.

  “Stop it!” he begged, clearly not understanding what was going on.

  I had to get him off me before Keith regained his senses. I kicked backward with my feet, pushing my shoulders hard into his body. He took a few steps backward, letting go of my hand to keep his balance. I flipped over on my knees and turned to face Bradley. It was a mistake. A sudden blow to the back of my head sent my senses spinning, nothing but flashing lights with blackness creeping around the edges. It was Keith who had taken the opportunity to strike me while my attention was elsewhere. I would have done the same thing if given the chance. In a daze, I tried to get away but I was barely hanging on to my consciousness which kept trying to slip away. Keith’s arm slipped over my neck. I could feel the muscles tighten, cutting off the precious oxygen to my brain. I was slipping away fast. Trying to break free, I attempted to stomp on his foot but I felt as weak as a kitten. The world spun away into darkness. I momentarily passed out. Or at least it only seemed like a moment.

  When I awoke, I found myself lying on the deck. The early dawn was just beginning to break across the silent stony cliffs. I couldn’t move. I could feel rough rope tied around my wrists. When I moved my legs, I could feel the tautness of a line between my ankles and my hands. It was obvious that I had been trussed up, making it impossible to stand. Looking around, I saw Keith steering the boat. Bradley was nowhere to be seen, but Ella was on the floor, sobbing with her eyes shielded from view. She had nothing on and there were ugly bruises on her arms and legs. I wriggled and squirmed, pleading for her to help. She was too wrapped up in her own troubles to give me any help.

  The boat slowed and stopped. Keith turned and looked at me. My little Colt pistol was in his hand. It was with some satisfaction that I saw his nose was a bent to the side and still bloodied.

  “So y
ou’re awake,” he said. In a few strides he was standing next to me. “You’re a damn good fighter. It’s too bad that we were stopped before we found out who the real winner would have been. Oh well, I’m not going to cry any tears over it since I suspect you may have beaten me.”

  I cleared my throat. I spoke with all the calmness I could find – understatement is a notable skill of the British. “It was a good workout.”

  He fished something out of his pocket. It was the lighter fluid. “What were you planning to do with this? Set fire to my boat?”

  I nodded. I was hoping to start a small fire so Keith would have gone rushing off to save the gold, revealing the place he had hidden it. Now it seemed like a silly plan.

  He dropped that subject. “I bet you’re wondering why I attacked you, Devon. There’s no reason to play games – I know who you are and what you are trying to do.”

  “That much is obvious, but how did you know?”

  “Sanders told me.” Keith saw the expression on my face. “And you thought he hated my guts for double-crossing him. Why yes he does, but he hates you even more. I merely stole from him by not sharing the loot. You, on the other hand, broke that poor bastard’s spirit by that devious water torture. I’m not sure that even I would have survived that kind of questioning.”

  “I would be willing to give you a demonstration.”

  He laughed. “Perhaps some other time. Yes, Sanders told me that you were hot on my trail looking for that gold. You’re working for that bitch, Cleora, aren’t you? She’s a good for nothing slut. I’m glad I beat some sense into her. I’m curious, what’s your cut?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead I just stared at him, wishing I had had a chance to finish this bastard off.

  Keith gave me a good kick in the ribs. I could feel something snap inside as the bolt of pain abruptly came and went.

  He said, “You see the problem with Sanders is that he has always been more talk than action. He was always full of himself, an easy man to break. Lucky for him he had never been in a really bad situation before. Me, on the other hand, I’ve been to hell and back. I’ve fought and I’ve killed plenty of men and women. I was good friends with Bill Kinney. I deserve this gold and, unlike you, I’m not going to leave any problems behind that can come and bite me in the ass.”

  I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of begging for my life. The game was over and I had turned up snake eyes. There were no more moves left. I did however ask, “What about her?”

  He turned to look at Ella. He licked his lips before answering, “She’s coming with me. I’m not done with my fun. If she’s good to me, then maybe I’ll let her live.”

  “And Valerie? And Sarah? Bradley? Thomas? Are you going to kill all of them too?”

  He smiled – a wicked display of pulled back lips and teeth. “You know accidents do happen, especially for those who have been drinking too much.”

  He gave me another kick and then pulled on the line holding my wrists and ankles together, dragging me face down the stairs leading to the main deck. There wasn’t anything I could do but take it. It was a rough trip, each jolt making my ribs ache even more. From there we went down yet another flight. I heard a door open and then I was yanked inside. It was the engine room. There was the sound of the thrumming diesels, the rpms low. With a jerk, I found myself lying on my side, staring at the glare of a light bulb.

  Keith’s face swam into view. “I don’t know how much of a sailor you are, Devon, but I’ll give you a little lesson. In a car the engine needs antifreeze so it doesn’t overheat. A boat engine works the same way but gets uses water from the outside as the coolant. It’s pumped in and then pumped out. Simple enough. The boat doesn’t sink because it’s a closed system. But with a little pipe rerouting, the water from the outside the hull can come inside. Even after the engines die, the open seacock will still let the water in. Eventually the boat will go under. It’s too bad that you won’t be able to escape by the time that happens. It will be some time for the investigators to figure out what happened here.”

  He disappeared from view and began to do some work. I heard the clank of metal on metal, and then there was a rushing noise that was audible over the sound of the engine. I managed to push my head up and saw Keith standing over the diesel engines. Water was gushing from a thick black hose and spilling on the floor. I looked around the engine room. I saw Bradley and Thomas tied together at the wrists, held in place by a work table leg that was bolted to the floor. Sarah and Valerie were each tied to some overhead pipes, possibly fuel or fresh water lines. They all looked shocked for being caught in this modern day horror movie. The alcohol they had drunk was long dissipated by the higher power of adrenaline. The chance of death certainly had a funny way of making one terribly sober.

  Keith came back to talk to me. “It won’t be long,” he said.

  “Please let us go,” Valerie pleaded.

  “Why are you doing this?” Sarah added.

  After a brief heartless laugh, he replied, “Because I want to.”

  I said, “You won’t get away with it. Once the boat is found and divers are sent down, it will be obvious that we’ve been murdered. Why don’t you just shoot us?”

  “Now where is the fun in that? Don’t worry, it will be some time before anyone finds the boat. I will have plenty of time to get away. And trust me, I won’t be an easy man to find.”

  I could feel something cold hitting my feet. At this rate it would be long before my face would be covered with water.

  “Well, it’s been nice sparring with you, but I have places to go. Goodbye.”

  He left. The door shut with a metallic clang.