'What was?' Simpers asked.
'Water, or rather, the means to get the stuff where needed. You can see how mountainous it is. The trick has been to catch the runoff, without wasting it. So the clever bit is making sure the Levadas – the channels, are at the right angle, you know, not too steep. That way the water stays where they want it instead of losing it over the side, so to speak.'
'Well it seems to work. The place looks green enough, that's for sure,' replied Simpers.
'The thing is, the runoff can be dangerous. Heavy rain storms can cause a lot of water to fly off those mountains. It's not a pretty sight. Anyway, enough of the serious stuff. Time for refreshments. This is the place I was telling you about.'
The two men settled on one of a dozen tables outside the cafe as they looked at the grassed promenade area leading down to the waterfront. On the far side of the docks lay the impressive sight of the cruise ship, one of three that had docked that day. Secured to the pier one behind the other, the trio took on the appearance of an expensive taxi rank.
'Incredible to think there are around seven thousand passengers spread between those three ships, isn't it. Twenty years ago you couldn't have got enough ships in the whole of the port to have carried that many passengers between them,' said the Deputy Captain.
'Can they get much bigger?' responded Simpers.
'You bet. Some of the largest are now over 250,000 tonnes. Problem is, they can't dock at many of the ports on the popular cruise itineraries. That means they have to weigh anchor out in deeper water and lay on tenders to get ashore and back again.'
'I'm not sure that's my idea of fun. Bouncing around in that huge tin can was bad enough. Bobbing up and down in a posh canoe doesn't appeal to me at all,' said Simpers.
The two men carried on chatting about nothing in particular.
'Oh, I've been meaning to ask you,' said Simpers. 'Finding my bearings around the ship yesterday, I needed a phone to ring reception. I came across one but couldn't get at it because it was behind a locked glass door. What's the point of having phones in public spaces if the passengers can't use them?'
'But there are plenty of phones in the public spaces. I don't know why you had any difficulty in finding one. You're describing a phone that used to be used only by designated staff – we don't need them now, though.'
'What do you mean, 'were',' Simpers replied.
'Well, they were for our maintenance crew. Several times a day one of them would have to tour the ship, to check out our various safety systems. To record that he'd completed a check in a particular zone, he'd use the phone in that area to log the results with the Bridge. These days the relevant crew member use key switches to do the same thing. They just insert their key, twist it ninety degrees and it logs the date and time of the safety check.
'So the phones aren't used at all now?' said Simpers.
'Only as a backup, but I can't remember when one was last used,' replied the Deputy Captain.
'But you are saying dozens of staff still have access to those phones as a backup?'
'Simpers, you're starting to sound like Mr Plod, again. What on earth is bothering you? Is there something you want to say?'
'No, not at all. Just curious, simple as that,' replied Simpers.
'You may be a good detective, but you're god-awful at playing the dumb cruise passenger. Anyway, it's up to you. Just remember, my job is to give you any help you need while on board. That said, if you don't want to make use of me, tough shit.'
The Deputy Captain looked every bit as irritated as his voice intimated. Simpers looked at the man square on and without changing his expression as he took a final sip from his coffee. The detective worked hard on his outward appearance as his mind raced. He knew the call must have come from that phone behind the glass panel. But who made the call? Needles and haystacks sprang to Simpers' mind.
'Well, come on. I've got a treat for you. We're off to catch a cable car up the mountain, or at least a little way up it.'
The Deputy Captain reached out with his left arm. He pointed to a concrete square building with a glass floor around three hundred yards over Simpers' shoulder.
'Cable car, don't you think I've had enough of being flung around in a big metal box over the last few days? Now you expect me to dangle from a steel string in a tiny metal box. Do you think I'm nuts?' Simpers replied.
'I don't think you're nuts at all. Come on, it'll be fun, I promise you, and, I have a special treat to get us down again.'
Against his better judgement, Simpers agreed to the Deputy Captain's offer. As they neared the cable car station, Simpers fixed his gaze on a tiny object. At least the half glass gondola containing the silhouetted heads of its passengers seemed minute to him. As a small procession of gondolas ascended, each passed one making its return journey to the lower station.
Minutes later and leaving his common sense behind, Simpers stepped into the gondola. He looked back at the safety of the ground as the door swished shut. The noise from the street was now replaced by the excited squeals of half a dozen children around.
'Are you so nervous that you have to close your eyes, Detective,' said the Deputy Captain.
'If you suffered from vertigo, you wouldn't need to ask such stupid questions. Anyway, as you can see, now that I'm used to the movement of this contraption, I'm a brave little soldier.' To prove the point, Simpers opened one, then both eyes and fixed his gaze at a distant point on the mountainside.
'I do apologise, Simpers. I didn't realise that this sort of thing affected you quite so much. Why didn't you say?'
'Have you any idea how stupid it feels telling complete strangers you must sit in the front passenger seat when getting into a car. And guessing which way the thing is about to turn. You know, so you can look the right way, knowing that if you get it wrong you'll feel like throwing up for hours. But, you just have to get on with it. Now, what's this treat that you were babbling on about?' said Simpers as he tried to lighten the mood.
'Well, before we get to that I want to show you the Monte Church, or to give it its full name, the Nossa Senhora do Monte. It's a beautiful place and it'll give you a great view back down to the bay and the ship.'
'Isn't some exiled Austrian emperor buried up there?'
'I am impressed, Simpers, you've done your homework haven't you.'
'It comes with the job, Deputy Captain,' replied Simpers without changing his expression.
The two men were working hard to stay relaxed in each other's company, both recognising he needed the other.
Simpers steadied himself on a handrail until the swaying stopped, which signalled their arrival at the mid-way mountain station. After a few seconds, all was still, and Simpers opened his eyes to discover he was the only one left in the gondola.
'It's quite safe now, Simpers,' said the Deputy Captain. 'It's a bit of a walk to the church, but if you look to your left you'll get a glimpse of the botanical gardens. Are you into flowers and suchlike?'
'I suppose I like to see a nice garden, but I'm not prepared to put the work in to get the desired result. That's why I live in an apartment block,' replied Simpers.
The two men strode along an undulating pathway that edged the narrow roadway, each seemed lost in their own thoughts as they delighted in the warm sun of the late morning. An occasional plane landing at the island's airport disturbed the peacefulness of the moment. Simpers looked up each time he caught a glimpse of a plane as it skirted the mountainous backdrop of the island.
'Now those guys have got balls,' said the Deputy Captain.
'If you're referring to the pilots, I think anyone who's prepared to drive those things has balls. I also think they must have a screw missing, if you'll forgive my use of mixed metaphors,' replied Simpers.
'No, you misunderstand. It's not quite so bad now, but before they extended the runway it must've taken nerves of steel to get one of those damn planes down safely.'
'Not sure I understand,' said Simpers.
The
officer continued his explanation. 'The first time I flew into the place, the passengers broke out into applause as we landed. I turned to the passenger sitting next to me and commented that it was quaint of the passengers to thank the pilots for a nice flight.'
'…And your point is?' replied Simpers.
'The guy just smiled at me and said they were just thankful to be on the ground. He told me to look back over my shoulder as I left the airport to see how the landing strip perched on the side of the mountain.'
'Was he right?'
'You bet the hell he was right. It looked as though it was stuck on with glue and bits of string. As I said, they've extended the runway now, but I bet passengers still clap when they're back on the tarmac.'
A few minutes later the two men came to a junction. To the right, the road disappeared into the distance, which seemed foreshortened by a steep incline. To their front and right, a pathway formed a long first step of around fifty which led to the Monte Church. The old building nestled into the mountainside with its striking twin bell towers separated by an exquisite black and white stone facade.
The two men ran forward a few feet onto the pathway as they reacted to the loud voice behind them and the screeching of brakes.
'Fora do caminho, estúpido…'
They looked back to see an animated man hanging out of a flat backed van that had seen better days. The man's raised voice was at odds with the white straw boater sitting on his head at a jaunty angle.
'louco, louco,' added the man as he waved his hand, gesturing the two men to get out of the road.
'Languages were never my strong point, but I presume he wasn't asking us what time it was,' said Simpers.
'Not to put too fine a point on it, he called us stupid and that we should get out of his way… Oh, and that we were both crazy,' responded the Deputy Captain.
It was only then that Simpers noticed the van piled high with what appeared to be cane furniture, the type he saw in conservatory ads.
'I'm guessing those things aren't used for lounging around the pool,' said Simpers. His comments came as he watched two men dressed from head to toe in white, including matching straw boaters. They untied their load, dropping them onto the tarmac with a thud.
'I'm guessing this is your surprise,' Simpers continued. 'I take it this does not involve an exhibition of cane furniture?'
'Spot on,' responded the Deputy Captain. 'It's wintertime and I'm taking you back to your youth. Everybody loves a toboggan ride and the added bonus is you don't need woolly gloves and a bob hat, it's 70°!'
Simpers was doing his best to keep his temper in check. It was one thing hanging off a wire in a tin box to look at a pile of black and white bricks, no matter how worthy the reputation of the church was. It was quite another to now slide back down the stupid mountain on something that pandas spend sixteen hours a day eating.
'Well, are you up for it? It beats walking back down… Unless you want to get back on the gondola?' said the Deputy Captain.
'And you can wipe that grin off your face. I suppose a taxi is out of the question?'
'Do you see any taxis,' replied the Deputy Captain with an exaggerated sweep of his arm as if surveying the horizon.
'você monta?' shouted one of two men stood by the front most toboggan, as he beckoned Simpers and the Deputy Captain.
'He's asking us to…' began the Deputy Captain.
'I don't need to speak Portuguese to know he wants us to climb in,' replied Simpers.
'Come on, it's my treat. You never know, you might enjoy it.'
Simpers could see the queue of eager cruise passengers waiting their turn. Unwilling to show his nervousness, he clambered aboard the toboggan. As the Deputy Captain lifted his leg to assume his position, his mobile phone rang. Letting go of the toboggan, he turned as if not wanting to share his conversation with Simpers. At the same time the two men dressed in white moved from the back of the toboggan. Each picked up a length of rope attached to the front of the runners. In a well practised movement, each pulled on the rope and pulled the toboggan forward. As the bamboo contraption gathered speed the men reposition themselves at the rear. Each placed one foot on a runner, the other employed a sort of pedalling action on the road surface. Simpers experienced nausea from the unexpected movement, and irritation at the Deputy Captain's absence. Simpers noticed the officer deep in conversation and with his back to the toboggan.
Simpers cursed the officer, not knowing whether his absence was by accident or design. He tried hard with his well practised antidote to vertigo in trying to focus on a distant stationary object. As the toboggan gathered speed and slid from side to side, the high stone walls on either side of the narrow road did nothing to help. His nausea worsened as his two drivers made constant adjustments. Their feet kissed the tarmac to keep the gondola in the middle of the road as it meandered on its descent. The detective's nervousness grew to a crescendo as he realised that the road he was careering down wasn't one way traffic. As they rounded a blind corner, it widened to reveal a familiar white dashed line in the centre of the tarmac. This was all that separated the flimsy toboggan from anything coming up the mountain. Before he had time to take in the possible consequences, his worst fears materialised. A tourist coach appeared as if from nowhere.
As the toboggan careered onwards, the drivers started to have difficulty in holding its position. It swayed from side to side, a problem made worse by the over corrections by its now panicking drivers. Within seconds the oncoming coach was on them. Simpers leaned to his left and crouched down as the urgent calls between his two companions reached a crescendo. Seconds later, the toboggan came within inches of the bus. Simpers felt the reflected heat from the metal panels of the coach and in the blink of an eye, it had passed. His near nemeses gave Simpers a farewell gift of exhaust fumes, which swaddled him in a purple haze of almost burnt diesel oil.
Simpers delighted in hearing only the grating of the wooden runners on the tarmac, rather than the harsh metal of the tour bus. He even started to enjoy the rush of air passing his body from the speed of the toboggan. Behind him, his two drivers returned to their previous good humour. Simpers considered this was more out of relief than his own good company.
The relative enjoyment of all three ended as the toboggan took a sharp impact on its right side from a second toboggan that had appeared as if from nowhere. This pushed it left and almost into a high stone wall that bordered the road.
' fugir, fugir ' get away, get away,' screamed one of the drivers as he tried in vain to push the stranger's toboggan out of the way.
The force of the blow pushed Simpers sideways in the opposite direction. As he tried in vain to regain his balance, he slipped from his chair and into the foot well of the toboggan.
A second blow hit the rickety construction, which was by now within inches of the wall.
A third blow sent it into a wild spin as the front corner hit the ragged stonework.
Simpers lifted his head and opened his eyes to see his two drivers sprawled over the tarmac. He also now realised the toboggan was hurtling backwards down the mountain. He couldn't understand how it could continue to move with such speed, now that it had lost the foot power of the two men. The mystery resolved itself as he managed to get himself back into his seat. He looked over his shoulder and down the steep incline of the road. The toboggan, that had seconds earlier rammed his own with such violence, now had it in tow. The rope his drivers had used to get the toboggan moving in the first place was now used to shackle it to its tormentor. As Simpers tried to take in the situation, the stranger guided his own toboggan to the right and slowed down. This allowed Simpers' toboggan to pass. As it did so, the stranger leaned to the left. He attempted to make contact, which Simpers assumed would propel his ride at even greater speed down the mountain. The detective's focus moved from his would-be assailant, towards a crossroad that now loomed into sight. He scanned left and right hoping not to see vehicles coming from either direction. He knew he wouldn't sta
nd a chance in his bamboo conveyance if he hit anything.
Within seconds the toboggan was at the crossroads. There was nothing at all that Simpers could do to alter what was about to happen. He considered jumping from the contraption, but concluded he was safer on board. The alternative of rolling around on the tarmac at the mercy of any crossing traffic didn't appeal to him one bit.
His worst nightmare seemed to be happening as he caught sight of a vehicle to his left. He knew he had two choices: to allow his frame to fall limp to limit any damage to his body or to brace himself and protect his head as best he could.
Deciding the second option provided the best hope for survival, he cradled his head between his arms. He waited for the impact, expecting it to hurt.
Then, all was quiet.
The toboggan came to a stop.
Simpers held his position. He waited.
He waited for the pain. It didn't come. Was he dreaming, he wondered? Or was he dead?
'você está bem? …you, er…OK?'
Simpers unfurled his arms and lifted his head to see an old woman peering at him. She offered the detective a thumbs up gesture and a reassuring, toothy smile. Simpers looked around to see where the other toboggan was. Instead, he saw several. Each with their drivers and passengers queued in a neat line around twenty yards behind him up the steep incline. Instead of concerned faces, all he could see was a wall of camera phones pointing at him. People never change, he thought.
***
'You're damn lucky, Detective. If that car had hit you at the crossroads you'd have been a goner. It's a good job the other toboggan managed to pull you up,' said the Deputy Captain, as he offered Simpers a glass of Saddleback beer.
'Damn lucky? That toboggan almost did for me. And where were you? I recall you took a mobile call. Convenient, that. I hope it was important.'
'As it happens, it was. Sorry about that,' replied the Deputy Captain, without making any attempt to explain who had phoned him.
'I don't know what you think happened, but from the reports I've received, your drivers haven't been getting on. It seems they were arguing with one another and ended up throwing punches and losing their balance. If it hadn't been for the other toboggan… Well, who's to say. Now, drink up and let's get you back to your cabin.'
Diamond in the Blue: D.I. Simpers Investigates Page 10
