Boats and Bad Guys

by Diana Xarissa

  “Surely you’ve had accidents on board before,” Stanley said. “The police can’t always stop a sailing just because of an accident.”

  The captain shrugged. “I once had a passenger have a heart attack on a sailing across the Channel. There was an investigation when we arrived in Calais, but his wife told us that he’d had heart trouble for years. The police barely spent any time on the boat at all that time.”

  He glanced out the window when he finished speaking. A huge number of police cars were still visible, parked along the road leading to the ferry. Clearly there was still a large police presence on the boat.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any chance the ferry itself is the problem?” Stanley asked. “All of its safety checks are up-to-date, are they?”

  “Of course,” the captain snapped. “I can assure you that the ferry is perfectly safe and was ready to sail as scheduled. You won’t be getting any compensation from Isle of Man Ferries for the delay.”

  “Well, that remains to be seen,” Stanley said.

  “Oh, Stanley, do stop being a bother,” his wife said. “I’m sure everyone is doing their best to sort everything out as quickly as they can. If even the captain doesn’t know what’s going on, the delay certainly can’t be the ferry company’s fault.”

  Stanley opened his mouth to reply, but the door at the back of the room swung open noisily. Daniel Robinson smiled tightly in the doorway as he surveyed the group.

  “Captain Howard, perhaps it would be best if we started with you,” he said after what felt like several long minutes.

  “And it’s about time,” the captain said crossly. “I don’t appreciate the way this has been dealt with at all. You can be quite certain that I will be complaining to the Chief Constable and the Governor about your behavior.”

  “Yes, sir, that’s certainly your right,” Daniel replied calmly.

  “And when will we be able to resume our trip?” Stanley called from his seat. “Florence and I have better places to be than this horrid little room.”

  Daniel nodded. “I do understand,” he said. “I’ll be speaking with each of you in turn and I hope to have everyone’s full cooperation. Once I’ve spoken to you, you’ll be free to go. I understand the ferry company is working on bringing in another ferry to cover while this one is temporarily out of service.”

  “So there is a problem with the ferry,” Stanley said triumphantly.

  “That’s not what I said,” Daniel replied. “At any rate, I believe Isle of Man Ferries is hoping to have everyone who still wants to sail on their way in another four hours or so. It will take that long to get another vessel here, and that gives me plenty of time for my questions.”

  “Four hours?” Stanley repeated. “That’s totally unacceptable.”

  “Now, Stanley,” Florence said, patting his arm. “Stop being silly. It isn’t as if we have a choice. We’ll wait and we’ll be nice and patient, too.” She addressed the last sentence to Daniel, who smiled gratefully at her.

  “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll get started with my interviews, then.”

  He turned and walked out of the room with Captain Howard following behind him. As the door swung shut, Charlotte cleared her throat.

  “I imagine there is something wrong with the ferry,” she said loudly. “No matter what the captain tried to say about drugs and people trafficking, problems with the ferry seems the most likely thing, doesn’t it? My friend Mabel told me that she heard that the safety inspections are only done about half as often as they’re meant to be done. She heard that sometimes ferry captains bribe the inspectors to sign off on their inspections without even coming on board.”

  “I’m surprised you’re prepared to sail with them, if that’s the case,” Justin said.

  “Yes, well, I’m on a fixed income, you know. I can’t afford to fly back and forth when I want to get across,” the woman said stiffly. “But I always make sure I know where the lifeboats are as soon as I get on the vessel. I doubt most people bother. If we ever did have an emergency at sea, I’d probably end up alone a lifeboat while everyone else drowned.”

  Maybe that would be preferable, Fenella thought to herself. She didn’t want to try to imagine what it might be like to be stuck in a small boat adrift at sea with the woman she was finding increasingly unlikable.

  “Oh, but you never told us about yourself,” Charlotte said, turning to Fenella.

  Disliking Charlotte even more, Fenella forced herself to smile. “I’m Fenella Woods,” she said. “After living in the US for many years, I’ve recently taken a very early retirement and settled back in my ancestral homeland.”

  “Why?” Charlotte demanded.

  “Oh, I, er, well, I, that is,” Fenella stammered. She took a deep breath, trying to decide how much she wanted to share with this group of total strangers. “I came into a small inheritance,” she said eventually.

  “Lucky you,” Justin said. “I keep hoping a convenient aunty will drop dead and leave me millions, but I haven’t had any luck so far.”

  “I had no idea I was going to inherit anything,” Fenella replied. “I had a full and happy life in the US before my aunt died.”

  “So why give that all up to come here?” Justin demanded. “I’d love to live in the US. I watch a lot of American telly and it looks amazing.”

  Fenella laughed. “It isn’t all like on television,” she said. “I was a professor at a large university and nothing exciting or glamorous ever happened to me.”

  “Well, I hope you didn’t come over here hoping for excitement or glamor,” Justin told her. “There isn’t a more deadly dull place in the world than the Isle of Man. Nothing ever happens here.”

  “Except today you’re caught up in a police investigation,” Fenella pointed out.

  “Yeah, it’ll turn out to a false alarm or something,” he said dismissively. “Nothing ever happens here.”

  The door at the back of the room swung open again. Constable Hopkins walked into the room and looked around at everyone.

  “I’ve been given a list of names for who is in here,” he said loudly. “We’re going to work our way through the list, one person at a time. The inspector would like to start with Harry Hampton, please.”

  Harry looked around, his face flushing. “I can wait, if you’d like to start with someone else,” he said quickly.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but the inspector asked for you first. If it makes you feel any better, I think he’s simply going in alphabetical order,” the constable replied.

  “Oh, well, I mean, of course. I just thought some of the others might like to go first,” Harry said. He stood up and looked down at his wife. “Hang in there, darling,” he told her. “I won’t be far away.”

  Sherry yawned and looked at her fingernails. As Harry walked out, he cast a nervous look back at her, but she was busy touching up her lipstick and didn’t notice.

  As soon as the door shut behind Harry and the constable, Justin moved over to sit next to the very pretty blonde. She frowned at him when he first sat down, but within minutes the two were having what looked like an intense conversation.

  Charlotte sighed deeply, giving the young couple a disapproving look before glancing around the room. Fenella quickly looked out the window to avoid catching Charlotte’s eye. She didn’t approve of Justin’s behavior either, but she wasn’t about to let Charlotte know that.

  “So, from whom did you inherit your fortune?” Charlotte asked after a moment.

  “It’s hardly a fortune,” Fenella protested. “Just enough money to allow me to make a change in my life. I must say, so far I’m really enjoying the island. Castle Rushen is amazing and I’m looking forward to seeing Peel Castle and all of the other incredible historical sites.”

  “Castle Rushen is one of the finest medieval castles in the whole of the British Isles,” Charlotte said. “We’re lucky to have it and fortunate that it’s been kept in such good repair over the years.”

  “It’s a pile of
old rocks that takes up far too much space in a crowded town,” Stanley said. “They could flatten it tomorrow and build houses for first-time buyers. That would be a much better use of prime real estate.”

  Fenella nearly drew blood as she bit her tongue. This was not the time or the place to argue about the importance of historical properties. Charlotte didn’t seem to agree.

  “Flatten it?” Charlotte echoed, her voice angry. “What a preposterous notion. Do you have any idea of the historical significance of that building? Why it was built…” She was interrupted when the door at the back opened again.

  Constable Hopkins stuck his head into the room and looked around. “If I could have Charlotte Masters, please,” he said.

  “I thought you were going in alphabetical order,” Charlotte said as she stood up.

  “Just following orders,” the constable replied.

  “Yes, well, this is highly irregular,” Charlotte complained. “You should talk to Harry’s wife next. She’ll want to get back to him as quickly as possible.”

  The constable glanced over at Sherry Hampton, who was busy whispering something into Justin’s ear. When she realized she was being watched, she moved a few inches away from the young man.

  “We have friends in common,” she said quickly.

  “More like common friends,” Charlotte muttered just loudly enough to be heard by everyone.

  Sherry flushed, but didn’t reply. Justin looked from Sherry to Charlotte and back again, an angry look on his face. When he opened his mouth to speak, Sherry shook her head. After a moment the constable broke the silence.

  “Ms. Masters, if you’d like to follow me, please,” he said, turning to go.

  Charlotte shrugged and crossed the room, disapproval etched on her face. In the doorway, she turned and looked back at the others, staring for a moment at Sherry, before she walked away. The door banged shut behind her.

  As it did so, it seemed to Fenella as if everyone let out a sigh of relief. She sat back in her chair and inhaled deeply. Perhaps under different circumstances, she might not have disliked Charlotte so much, but with visions of the dead man haunting her, she’d had a difficult time being polite to the nosy woman.

  “Well, that’s cleared the air,” Justin said loudly.

  The door swung open again, catching everyone by surprise.

  “Ah, good afternoon,” the young man in the doorway said. “I’m Constable Corlett. In an effort to get the questioning done more quickly, I’m going to start taking some preliminary statements from you each in turn. I’d like to start with Sherry Hampton, please.”

  “Oh, must you?” Sherry asked. “I’m quite enjoying relaxing in here. I’m certainly not in any hurry to get on another ferry.”

  The constable smiled. “The other ferry is still some hours away,” he said. “But your husband is quite insistent that we talk to you and then let you both get on your way.”

  Sherry sighed deeply. “Harry is like that,” she said, sounding tired. She rose to her feet and then bent back down to whisper something to Justin. He smiled and nodded at her. Fenella was sure that his eyes were glued to the woman’s bottom as she swayed out of the room on incredibly high heels.

  Apparently the police effort to speed things up was successful. It didn’t seem very long at all before Constable Corlett was back to ask Nick Proper to join him, and Nick’s wife, Brenda, followed soon after that.

  No one left behind to wait seemed to want to make conversation, which suited Fenella. She sat back in her seat and tried to guess which one of the remaining people would be called for next. When she got tired of that game, she started wondering if any of the people she’d met in this waiting room had actually killed the victim. That got her exactly nowhere, so she thought about Robert Grosso instead. He was the only person that she could imagine as the victim, which proved nothing at all, but gave her something to consider. Poor Sarah would be devastated if Fenella was right.

  “Justin Newmarket?” Constable Hopkins asked from the doorway.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s me,” the young man said. He rose to his feet and quickly walked to the doorway. “Bad news for you lot, I suppose,” he said with an obnoxious smile. “You’re stuck waiting even longer.”

  He turned and walked away, following the constable down the corridor. The door banged shut behind him, leaving Fenella alone with only Stanley and Florence March for company.

  “We’d better be next,” Stanley said crossly after a moment.

  “It’s fine,” Florence said softly. “The police are just doing their job, after all.”

  “Harassing innocent civilians isn’t their job,” Stanley snapped. “Whatever has gone wrong on that damn ferry, it’s nothing to do with us.”

  “Yes, dear,” Florence said.

  When the door opened again several minutes later, Constable Corlett smiled at them all. “If I could have Florence March, please,” he said.

  “Oh, no, you aren’t talking to my wife without me being there,” Stanley said. He rose to his feet. “And depending on what’s going on, I might want an advocate as well.”

  The constable smiled. “Of course, sir,” he said patiently. “Why don’t you ring your advocate while I arrange transportation.”

  “What sort of transportation?” Stanley demanded.

  “Transportation down to our Douglas station,” the constable explained. “We’ve only just borrowed a tiny office here, and there’s no way we can accommodate both you and your wife and an advocate in that space. We have much larger rooms at the station. Have your advocate meet us there in half an hour or so.”

  “That’s absurd,” the man shouted. “I won’t be treated like this.”

  “I’m trying to accommodate you,” the constable said patiently.

  “You can interview us in here,” Stanley said. “There’s plenty of room for us and our advocate.”

  “I’m afraid Isle of Man Ferries needs this space back as soon as possible,” the constable told him. “They have customers to accommodate.”

  “Oh, Stanley, do stop being silly,” Florence interjected. “I’ll go and answer all of the man’s questions, and then you can have your turn and we can be on our way. Let’s not drag things out any longer.”

  “I don’t want you alone with that police inspector,” Stanley said.

  “Why ever not?” Florence demanded. “What are you afraid I’m going to tell him?”

  Stanley flushed. “I’m your husband,” he said. “It’s my job to look after you in difficult situations.”

  “You’re the one making this difficult,” Florence retorted. “Let me go see what this is all about. If I feel like I’m in over my head, I can always refuse to say anything further without my advocate.”

  Stanley looked like he wanted to argue more, but after a moment he sat back down. “Just watch out for tricks,” he told his wife. “If you aren’t careful, you’ll end up confessing to all manner of things.”

  “I’m not a small child,” Florence replied. “I think I can answer a few questions without getting flustered enough to confess to anything.”

  On that she walked away, through the door and down the corridor. Stanley watched her go, his face a picture of misery. The door had barely closed behind Florence when it swung open again. This time Constable Hopkins pushed it open.

  “Ah, Stanley March? We’re ready for you,” he announced.

  “About bloody time,” Stanley muttered loudly. He crossed the room in only a handful of steps and swept out, leaving the constable to follow him.

  As the door shut yet again, Fenella sat back in her seat and swallowed hard. Suddenly alone, she felt sad and a little bit lonely. She could only hope that Daniel would get to her before too much longer.

  Chapter Four

  With nothing else to do, Fenella watched the clock as the hands moved slowly around the face. She had her bag with the books she’d packed for her journey, but for once reading didn’t appeal. Twenty-six minutes and fourteen seconds after
he’d left with Stanley March, Constable Hopkins was back.

  “Ah, thank you so much for waiting patiently,” he said to Fenella. “Inspector Robinson is ready to see you again now.”

  Fenella walked down the short corridor behind the constable, pulling her suitcase. She was eager to get the meeting over with and get home. The door to the office Daniel was using was ajar. Daniel was sitting behind the desk, taking notes in one of his ever-present notebooks, when the constable knocked and then pushed the door open.

  “Hello, Fenella,” Daniel said. He smiled at her when he looked up.

  “You look tired,” she said as she sat down in the chair he’d indicated. Constable Hopkins slid into the second chair behind the desk.

  “I am tired,” the inspector admitted. “Many of our witnesses have been less than cooperative, which doesn’t help.”

  “They were an odd group of people,” Fenella said. “I won’t mind if I never see any of them again.”

  Daniel smiled. “I expect I’ll be seeing them all again, but anyway, let’s get down to business.”

  Fenella sat up straighter in her chair and folded her hands in her lap, suddenly feeling like she’d been called before the dean of her department after a student complaint or something.

  “We’ve identified the body,” he told her.

  “Robert Grosso,” Fenella guessed.

  “I should have left an officer with you in that waiting room,” Daniel said. “I wasn’t worried about everyone talking together, as you were the only one who knew about the body and I knew you wouldn’t mention it. I didn’t think about Sarah Grosso talking about her missing husband.”