Laura Marlin Mysteries 2: Kidnap in the Caribbean

by St John, Lauren

‘One more word and you will join your uncle in the pool, Laura Marlin,’ Sebastian said through gritted teeth. To keep up appearances, he waved and smiled at the Gannets, still framed in the window. ‘I do believe you’re an unlucky charm. From the very beginning, you have confounded our plans at every turn. Well, no more.’

  He turned to the insect man. ‘Mr McGee, as you are aware a situation has arisen which you are uniquely qualified to handle. For reasons unknown, Mr Pike, who should have dealt with it, has gone AWOL. Would you mind letting our new friends, the Gannets, into the aquarium? Kindly locate the son. The sharks, I’m sure, would be happy to get to know them.’

  Mr McGee became quite animated. ‘A pleasure, a pleasure,’ he squeaked, and scuttled out of the door.

  All this time Laura had been scanning the pool area for the ordinary, the mundane, the everyday thing that the Straight A’s might have overlooked. It was now that she saw it: a common garden snail. It was making its way up the side of a plant pot.

  ‘Wait,’ she cried as Rutger moved to take Mr McGee’s place. In the pool, Calvin Redfern was grey with tension. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead. The octopus had retreated but the snails were converging on him as if he was a particularly attractive rock. ‘If you’re going to kill my uncle,’ Laura said, ‘I’d like to at least give him a goodbye hug.’

  ‘Don’t push your luck,’ growled Sebastian, but he nodded to Little to release her.

  Laura stepped away from him, massaging her wrist. She approached the poolside with her head down, as if she were defeated and on the verge of tears.

  ‘Hurry up,’ snapped Janet.

  As she neared the plant pot, Laura pretended to stumble. In one movement she snatched up the snail, swung and held it close to Celia’s cheek. She covered the shell that would have identified it as harmless with her palm but let its coffee-coloured underbelly be seen. The woman let out a scream that could have been heard in Antigua.

  Laura wiggled the snail slightly. ‘Didn’t you mention that a sting from this little creature holds enough venom to kill twenty men?’

  The gangster went as white as his suit. Celia let out another piercing screech.

  ‘Please,’ Sebastian whined. ‘Please. Anything but the snail.’

  Rutger’s hand crept to his pocket.

  ‘One more millimeter, Rutger, and the snail’s going to be snacking on Celia,’ said Laura a lot more calmly than she felt.

  ‘LISTEN TO THE GIRL,’ Celia cried hysterically. ‘SHE IS NOT TO BE TOUCHED. DO YOU HEAR ME? SHE IS NOT TO BE TOUCHED.’

  Sebastian wheedled: ‘Now Miss Marlin, be reasonable. I can see why you’re upset, but I’m sure we can talk it over. There’s been a misunderstanding. If you put down the snail we can work something out. You’ll have my personal guarantee that you can continue your holiday unharmed.’

  ‘Why don’t you get in the pool and explain to the octopus as it wraps its poison tentacles around you that it misunderstood? That you were only joking.’

  She moved the snail fractionally closer to Celia’s eye. She felt giddy with fear, but her uncle’s presence and Tariq’s quiet strength gave her courage. ‘Sebastian, I want you to help my uncle out of the pool and untie his bonds. One false move and Celia gets the snail treatment.’

  Sebastian rushed to do her bidding. Within a minute Calvin Redfern was out of the pool, his hands free. He flexed his fingers to get the blood flowing again.

  Janet, Rutger and Little were in various stages of apoplexy, but they dared not say or do anything that would get their boss’s wife killed.

  ‘Fair’s fair, Miss Marlin,’ Sebastian said. ‘I’ve done what you asked. Let Celia go. If you don’t, we are going to make you pay a very high price.’

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ said Calvin Redfern. He lifted up his hand and Laura was shocked to see a real marble cone snail between his fingers. Crossing the room in a couple of strides, he held the snail to Sebastian’s neck. ‘The only people likely to be paying a high price are you and your sorry crew.’

  He smiled. ‘Laura, Tariq, I’m prouder of you than you can possibly imagine, but right now I need you to go for help. Take Celia with you as a hostage in case anyone tries anything.’

  ‘Can’t you come with us?’ Laura burst out.

  He shook his head. ‘I’m going to get Janet to tie up Rutger, then she, Sebastian and that scrawny excuse for a bodyguard are going to lead me to the shark tank and we’re going to do our best to rescue the Gannets and their boy if he can be found. What was his name?’

  From the aquarium came the sound of some unfolding disaster – a strangled yell, the chime of breaking glass and a waterfall roar.

  Tariq grinned. ‘Jimmy,’ he said. ‘His name is Jimmy.’

  Out in the corridor, it was immediately apparent that all was not well at Marine Concern. The passage was flooded with water and three turtles were gliding towards them. Laura had been worried that they’d be pounced on by Marine Concern’s army of security guards, but the building was eerily deserted. She smiled to herself. Something told her that the flood at least was Jimmy’s work.

  They passed a room with banks of computer screens. One was showing the news. A shaky camera was focused on the Soufriere Hills Volcano. Smoke and sparks were spewing from it.

  ‘Volcano terror. Montserrat residents urged to evacuate,’ read the headline.

  ‘Great,’ said Laura. ‘We’ll escape the Straight A’s only to be boiled alive by the volcano.’

  ‘And here I was thinking that this was going to be a relaxing holiday,’ Tariq responded.

  ‘Will you stop acting like children!’ cried Celia. ‘My life is at stake and you’re behaving as if you’re on a school field trip. You do realise that you’re not going to get away with this and that, when my husband and the gang catch up with you, your lives will not be worth living.’

  ‘Where is the nearest phone?’ Tariq asked, ignoring her.

  ‘Why should I help you?’

  ‘Well,’ said Laura, ‘these are your options. Help us and save yourself from being stung by the snail or incinerated by the volcano or both, or…No, that’s it. Those are your choices.’

  Celia sucked in her cheeks, as if she’d taken a swallow of sour milk. ‘Janet’s office. There’s a phone in there.’

  But the phone in Janet’s office wasn’t working, probably because the water in there was already ankle deep.

  ‘Now you’re stuck,’ Celia said. ‘Any minute now, my husband will come rushing in and then you’ll be in trouble.’

  The children paid no attention to her. Tariq was at the computer. In no time at all he had contact details for the Montserrat police station and had sent them an urgent email. He scanned the laptop hard drive. There were thousands of files. Most seemed to be in a foreign language or in code. It was impossible to know which were most important. It was while he was downloading some of the bigger ones to a file sharing site that Celia let out another screech, this time of rage.

  ‘You wicked monkeys! You tricked me. My husband will get you for this.’

  Too late Laura realised that Celia had caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and seen that the snail was a common garden one, not the deadly marble cone snail at all. Before she could react, Mrs LeFever had caught her a glancing blow across the shoulder, knocking her to the floor. Tariq helped her up as Celia flew out of the room, shouting threats.

  He locked the door. ‘Let her go. I’ve found something on the computer that you have to see. It’s the original blueprints for this place, showing the old lava tunnel. If we could make it there, we’ll get out.’

  The door handle jiggled. ‘Who’s in there?’ demanded a male voice they didn’t recognise. ‘Rutger, is that you?’

  Laura ran to the window, but it was made from unbreakable reinforced glass and securely locked.

  There were shouts in the corridor. “If I get my hands on those kids,’ Janet was saying, ‘I’ll roast them alive.’

  Laura’s heart clenched in her
chest. Where were Calvin Redfern and the Gannets? Something must have gone badly wrong.

  Janet pounded on the door. ‘Laura and Tariq, we know you’re in there. In case you’re wondering where your beloved uncle is, we have him held hostage. If you don’t come out, we’ll put him back in the pool and this time there’ll be no mistakes.’

  Laura’s hands began to shake. Tariq had climbed onto the desk and was testing the ceiling panels with a steel rod. He looked down at her. ‘Don’t believe her,’ he whispered. ‘It’s a trap.’

  Laura steeled herself to focus. If Matt Walker was here, he’d tell her that there was no place for emotion at a time like this.

  Something slammed into the door, making a noise like a bomb going off. Laura almost had a heart attack. Tariq was pulling the chair onto the table. He held out his hand. The door was struck again. So violent was the impact that it seemed to sag on its hinges. Laura climbed onto the chair, and hauled herself into the ventilation shaft because that’s what Tariq was asking her to do and she trusted him with her life.

  She wanted to unlock the door and promise Janet Rain anything she asked for, so long as her uncle and Jimmy, Rita and Bob were unharmed, but it would be lunacy. Negotiating with the Straight A’s would be like negotiating with crocodiles. Nothing they said could be trusted.

  The door splintered. Tariq was on the chair and pulling himself into the shaft. He kicked the chair away. It wouldn’t detain their pursuers for long, but it was something. The ceiling panel clicked into place. Blackness swallowed them. Voices sounded in the room below.

  ‘Tariq, what do we do now?’ Laura whispered.

  A huge grin came over the Bengali boy’s face. He switched on his torch. It was a miniature one that clipped to the side of his wallet. He never went anywhere without it. ‘We’re getting out of here,’ he said.

  THE OLD LAVA tunnel was blocked by plywood planks secured by a couple of rusty nails. Behind them was a wide channel that smelled of rotten eggs. The air was so thick and warm it was like breathing in hot cobwebs. It crossed Laura’s mind that they might be saving the Straight A’s the trouble of killing them by voluntarily entering a tomb.

  It was a sobering thought. They looked along the vent. Scraping noises indicated that the gang was already in pursuit. Either they fled into the unknown or they’d be back at the pool, swimming with the octopus.

  They ran. Or, they would have run had they had more energy. Unfortunately the tunnel was mostly uphill. They were effectively climbing the Soufriere Hills. Since they’d had nothing to eat or drink since early that morning and since the air in the tunnel was stale and foul, they soon ran out of steam. A stitch bit into Laura’s side.

  A yellow stripe of light swept across their backs.

  ‘They’re coming,’ panted Tariq. ‘We have to move faster.’

  Laura paused to massage the pain in her side. She gritted her teeth and thought of Skye. If something happened to her, who would take care of Skye? She took a deep breath and picked up the pace.

  The swinging yellow light grew brighter. Their pursuers were hard on their heels. Laura risked a glance over her shoulder. Janet Rain and Little were gaining ground.

  They were about to run again when she grabbed Tariq’s arm. ‘Stop, I think I felt something.’

  There was panic in his eyes. ‘Laura, if we hesitate, we’re … dead.’

  ‘Cool air. I think I felt cool air.’

  He didn’t argue. He knew as well as she did that a cold breeze could indicate an exit of some kind.

  They backtracked a little way, a terrifying prospect with their pursuers pounding towards them. But Tariq’s torch found it almost immediately – a crevice between two rocks, worn smooth by the elements. It was incredibly narrow but there was a chance that a child could squeeze through it. Ignoring Laura’s protests, he made a stirrup of his hands and lifted her up. ‘If I’m not out in one minute, forget about me and run for your life.’

  Laura’s voice was muffled as she strained to squeeze through the gap. ‘Tariq, I’m not leaving you. Not ever.’ But even as she said it she knew that Janet and Little must be almost upon him.

  She was out in the night, in the sharp sweet air, when she heard Janet’s muffled voice say to him: ‘It’s all over, kid. One move and you’re dead.’

  ‘Don’t think,’ Laura told herself. ‘Just act.’ She reached down and Tariq’s palms touched hers. ‘Jump!’ she yelled, and pulled with all her strength.

  Tariq’s feet found a purchase on the tunnel wall and his head and shoulders emerged from the hole. His face changed. They’d grabbed his ankles.

  Laura flung herself on the ground and threw her arms around his chest. ‘Leave him alone,’ she screamed. ‘Leave him.’

  He kicked frantically at the monsters below, but it was like battling quicksand. Millimetre by millimeter they dragged him down.

  ‘Run, Laura,’ Tariq said weakly. ‘Save yourself.’

  Laura’s muscles felt as if they were on fire, but she gripped him even tighter. ‘Tariq, will you shut up and fight.’

  He kicked out again and there was a curse from below.

  ‘By dose,’ moaned Little. ‘You’ve broken by dose.’

  His gripped slacked and Tariq shot out of the hole like a champagne cork from a bottle, barefoot. There were outraged shouts from below as his captors realised that all they had of him was his shoes. And more cursing when they discovered that the hole was kid-sized. Not even Little, with his emaciated, marathon-runner frame, could fit through it.

  ‘This is not the end,’ Janet Rain screamed through the gap. ‘This will never be over until we’ve got you and your uncle. We’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth. Mr A will insist on it.’

  ‘Good luck with that,’ Laura shouted down. ‘You’re in a lava tunnel and the volcano is erupting.’

  There were a few more threats, followed by the echo of fleeing footsteps. The message had hit home.

  The children embraced under the night sky. Then they pulled apart, looked at each other and said together: ‘The volcano!’

  They were on the lower slopes of the Soufriere Hills, just beyond the perimeter fence of Marine Concern. Two reservoirs of water winked in the moonlight.

  ‘Laura,’ Tariq breathed. ‘Look up.’

  A fountain of orange sparks spewed from the top of the volcano. Billowing clouds of red smoke followed, along with molten snakes of black steam and rock. They streamed down the mountain with a tremendous hissing.

  ‘A glowing cloud,’ Laura said in awe. ‘Heading our way at 700kmph.’

  She was spent. She had nothing left to give. Even if it were possible to outrun the volcano, which it wasn’t, her body simply was not up to the task.

  They started to run, but Laura pulled up with a savage stitch after only a few paces. ‘I can’t run any more. Not another step. Tariq, you go. Go while you—’

  ‘First, I’d never in a million years abandon you,’ said Tariq, raising his voice above the hissing monster. ‘Second, there’s nowhere to run to.’

  There was a ripple of white and then a black shape came hurtling out of the darkness. ‘Skye!’ Laura could have sobbed with relief. ‘Oh, Skye, I’ve been so worried about you.’

  But though the husky was clearly overjoyed to see her, he was not his loving self. After giving her face a couple of quick licks, he began tugging at the bottoms of her jeans with his teeth.

  ‘He’s saved us twice before,’ Tariq said. ‘Maybe he knows something we don’t.’

  They could see every detail of the swirling red smoke and the lemony glow beneath as a forcefield of gas and rocks sped roaring towards them. It was Laura’s nightmare come to terrifying reality.

  Faced with the prospect of being incinerated, Laura found to her surprise that she was not nearly as afraid as she’d thought she might be. The conviction that, against all odds, she and Tariq would escape or be rescued blazed as brightly inside her as the molten core of the volcano itself. They had too much to live for. To
o many things to do.

  Skye barked and worried at her jeans once again. Laura grabbed Tariq’s hand. ‘The reservoir. He wants us to run to the reservoir.’

  They flew towards the nearest tank with the volcano steaming after them. The water was as black as oil. There was no telling how deep it was, or what lurked beneath it.

  Laura hesitated. ‘What if it’s full of sharks? Or worse, snails or jellyfish?’

  The glowing cloud was so near they could smell its fiery breath. ‘We’ll have to take our chances,’ yelled Tariq. ‘Just jump.’

  They held their breath and jumped.

  NEVER IN HER life had Laura seen so many shades of blue. There was soft greeny-blues and pale smoky blues, French blues, Prussian blues, blues like old worn denim, cornflower blues and blues that made your heart feel peaceful.

  In the midst of them all was a strip of sparkling white beach. While walking along it earlier that morning, Laura had found a pink conch shell. She’d put it on her bedside table in the room of the private Antiguan villa they’d been loaned for the week. When they returned to Cornwall, she planned to take it with her as a present for Mrs Crabtree, whose wise words had followed her throughout this adventure: ‘There’s a reason people often put “trouble” and “paradise” in the same sentence, you know. The two words tend to go together.’

  The villa came with its own yacht. Her uncle loved to sail and after breakfast that morning he’d taken her and Tariq out into the bay. They’d been drifting on the current, watching rainbow shoals of fish dart in and out of pink and purple blossoms of coral, when a pod of dolphins showed up. Laura would never in her life forget the experience of watching the dolphins play. Their graceful, muscular bodies leapt, somersaulted, and streaked beneath the boat. The spirit of them, their sheer joy at being alive, infused the air around them. It was impossible not to smile in their presence.

  One brave dolphin came so near to the yacht they could have reached down and touched it. It chirruped, squeaked and grinned cheekily at them. Then, with a tremendous thwack of its tail, it darted away, leaving them drenched and laughing.