by Jack Dylan
“I demand to be told what is going on,” Maggie repeated at intervals during the ninety minute voyage. “I am a British citizen and I am going to complain to the Embassy about our treatment.”
The guard might have understood perfectly, but he gave no sign of it. So far as facial clues were concerned he might have been deaf. Occasionally when Maggie became more agitated, he said something harsh in Turkish and gestured backwards with his machine-pistol – ever ready in his right hand, and otherwise resting across his left forearm. It was almost sufficient discouragement to persuade Maggie to give up her protests, but her anger rose again a few minutes later and they repeated the fruitless cycle again and again.
“What have you done to my husband?” Maggie demanded, deciding that strict definitions of their relationship were irrelevant in the circumstances. “You cannot just board an English registered yacht and take away the skipper. There are international rules about this.”
The guard looked bored but watchful. She might as well have been shouting at a tailor’s dummy but she had to vent her anger and her frustration. It kept her panic and despair at bay. As long as she could shout and demand she felt as if she was keeping some sort of positive grip on things, perhaps just on herself. If she gave in she would quickly collapse in tearful hopelessness. She kept up the brave, outraged front, largely for her own benefit, and without any sign of progress.
In the bow cabin, Jack, the doctor, and his wife Patricia were whispering together. They were shaken and still suffering from the combination of alcohol and fear.
“I really need to go to the loo,” pleaded Patricia. “I’m going to open the door and ask them if I can.”
“I think you’re going to have to hold on I’m afraid.”
“I can’t. Oh Jack, I wish we hadn’t come,” she wailed. She started to lose the calm self-control which they had all been surprised to find themselves maintaining.
“Oh all right, I’ll see if I can get them to allow you.”
Jack opened the door of the cabin a crack and found himself eyed warily by the guard who was standing watching the opening door. With quick gestures Jack pointed at the heads compartment and at his wife and put his hands together in a begging gesture. The guard shouted up the companionway to the cockpit, where the officer in charge was quietly watching their progress through the night back to Gocek. With surprising politeness he came down the steps into the saloon and addressed Jack, still holding the partially open door.
“Your wife may use the toilet sir, but the door must remain open at all times. If she does not want to use the toilet in these circumstances, I will find a plastic bucket for her.”
Jack looked somewhat taken aback at the response, and turned back into the cabin to find a wide-eyed Patricia shaking her head vehemently.
“I’m not going to use it with those men watching,” she hissed.
“Well do you want a bucket then?” asked Jack pragmatically but a little unsympathetically.
“No I do not want a bucket. Oh hell Jack – I’ll have to do something.”
The officer understood the general sense of the situation, even if he couldn’t hear Patricia’s urgent pleading. He unexpectedly relented on condition that Patricia did not flush the toilet. He opened the door to the heads compartment, and opening the cupboard beneath the washbasin, closed the sea-cocks for both the toilet and basin. With the hatch closed and watched from on deck, there was no other way Patricia could get rid of anything from her possession – so he reasoned that it was safe to allow her the privacy.
“I am sorry for the inconvenience,” he announced, “but it is important that we bring this yacht to our base exactly as we found it. Please do not attempt to discharge anything overboard.”
Patricia hurried past Jack and the two guards, casting a dubious glance at Maggie as she went. The situation had left the guests with a puzzle. They had been interrupted in the process of putting into words how wonderful they thought Alex and Maggie had been, so it was difficult to switch instantly to blaming them for the trouble with the Coastguard. But the more they thought about it the more it seemed as if some blame must lie with their erstwhile hosts.
“They knew Alex’s name,” Julie whispered to Bruce in the aft cabin. “It looks as if they knew exactly who they were looking for. So he must have done something.”
“I just can’t understand it,” Bruce responded worriedly. “Why on earth would they have been mixed up in anything underhand? How could they afford to take risks in foreign waters with what was their livelihood?”
“Why do people ever get mixed up in crime?” Julie was now clear that that was the only explanation. “I hope they will know that we are just paying guests for the week and don’t know anything about it.”
“What do you think will happen in Gocek?”
“I was going to ask you that.”
“Well I think that they’ll take our details, and send us on our way. They are obviously treating Alex as the main suspect – he’s been taken onto their boat, and it looks as if they are treating Maggie as if she’s involved.”
“They won’t just let us go.”
“No, they’ll probably hold us while they do a search of the boat. It would be silly to let us go before that. But given that they’ll find nothing in our belongings, I’d reckon they’ll let us go before long.”
“I don’t know how you can be so calm about this. We’re under arrest in Turkey. Don’t you remember Midnight Cowboy? Do you know what the jails are like?”
“No point of getting ahead of ourselves. They must let us make a phone-call in the morning. I’ll get the British Embassy in Ankara. Or do you think we should phone Jamie and let him start agitating from back home?”
“I think the embassy should come first, but phone Jamie as well if you can. Get him to phone our MP whoever that is now. Phone the police at home. They’re bound to have contacts.”
“We’re assuming that they’ll let us make a call,” said Bruce, “but I think we’re relying on what we see in crime movies rather than knowing that rules about phone calls actually apply here.”
“Oh God. Do you think we’ll be locked up without anybody knowing? Oh Bruce. This is a nightmare. I don’t know what to do.”
“Let’s make sure that they know we aren’t linked with Alex and Maggie other than paying them for this week.”
“I can’t believe they’ve done anything. It will turn out to be some administrative error. Some forms not filled in or some licence Alex forgot to pay for.”
“And they mount a James Bond style operation for some missing paperwork? I don’t think so. Whatever they are after Alex for, it is serious. I just hope we can distance ourselves from them.”
“What are Jack and Patricia doing? I heard Jack’s voice. Something is going on out there.”
Bruce opened the door a crack to look into the saloon. He could see the back of the guard standing over Maggie. He couldn’t see past the bulky black figure but could sense that something was going on. He heard the heads door open and the guard moved slightly as Patricia moved awkwardly down the saloon to the bow cabin. He quietly closed the door, without the guard being aware of his actions.
“They’ve let Patricia use the loo. I wonder how they managed to persuade them to allow that?”
“Talking of which, I wonder if they’d allow me? All that wine is catching up with me. I feel totally sober now – amazing what a fright will do.”
“Do you want me to ask them? I don’t want to antagonise them, but if you need to go I’ll try.”
“I don’t want to wait till we’re in Gocek if that’s where they are taking us. God knows what will happen there and I’d rather be prepared.”
Bruce knocked the door loudly and then opened it again enough for him to attract the attention of the guard. With a weary air the coastguard shouted again up to the cockpit, and the officer appeared down in the saloon again.
The same warning was issued to Bruce and Julie as had been given to Patricia
, and one by one they made their way to the heads, and an air of strained normality almost resurfaced. Julie looked at Maggie, who started to ask her if she was OK, but the guard abruptly intervened to put an end to communication between the different groups of prisoners.
They remained in the cabin for the rest of the journey, until they became aware of Turkish voices on deck, heard the change of speed of the engine, and finally the gentle bump as they came alongside a dock. After a few minutes the engine noise stopped and they waited expectantly.
Chapter 36
Gocek: 14 October 2006
Alex’s guests on land
“Best be ready to go for a trip here,” Bruce maintained his calm, matter-of-fact air. They decided there was no point in trying to pack their bags as it would all be searched anyway, so they packed their passports, travel documents and money into a day-bag, grabbed a warm jacket, and waited for instructions. Feet sounded down the companionway and an authoritative voice began,
“Ladies and gentlemen, please open the cabin doors and pay attention.”
Jack and Bruce immediately opened their respective doors and looked enquiringly at each other. There was no sign of Maggie, who had been already taken from the yacht.
“I apologise for this disruption to your holiday. You will be taken ashore and we will have some questions for you. We also will need to search your cabins, but please be aware that everything will be safe. Please bring your personal documents and travel information with you, but leave everything else in the cabin. As soon as you are ready please join me on the dock.”
Bruce looked at Julie and nodded, they exchanged wan smiles as they made their way up the steps to the cockpit and stepped across to the concrete dock. Jack and Patricia were moments behind them.
“Well what do you make of this then?” Jack muttered to Bruce.
“I’m going to try to phone the British Embassy as soon as possible, but I don’t know what to expect here. Innocent bystander approach I think.”
“Exactly old man. No idea what this is all about. Co-operate in every way. I’ve read about this – just be completely polite and do as they say.”
“Don’t you worry. I’m not planning to run for it.”
The four were led up a floodlit gravel path to a functional-looking military style building; freshly painted stones along the path, metal outer doors, and an institutional corridor led them to a set of hard wooden chairs in the corridor. They were signalled to sit and wait. The bare light bulbs in crude old-fashioned wall fittings reminded them of their worst images of Turkish jails, but the clean corridor and the general politeness of their captors reassured them that they were not about to be locked up and the key thrown away.
A weary looking officer in a creased white uniform emerged from a door beside them.
“Dr Fulton?” he said.
Jack stood up and nodded.
“Would you and Mrs Fulton come in here please.”
They entered the metal-desked office, leaving Bruce and Julie to whisper anxiously in the corridor. A young guard was posted between them and the entrance, but he stood at ease, gun in its holster, and stared fixedly at the wall with no sign of desire to talk.
“Your passports please Doctor.” The formalities in the office began. The officer examined the passports, with their visas dating from one week earlier, and checked the airline tickets, insurance documents, and finally the copies of e-mails arranging the charter with Alex.
“May I see the bag please?” Jack handed over the day-bag and the contents were systematically emptied onto the desk. The bottle of water; the travel tissues; the sun cream; and the filofax that Jack took everywhere.
“Why were you in Kapi Creek twice this week Doctor?”
“I think it was just a handy place to be last night – we fly back to London today and Alex, the skipper, wanted to be a short distance from Gocek. We were all happy with that as we liked it the first time we were there, and it seemed a practical idea.”
“Who suggested it?”
“Well the skipper of course. We discuss options each day, but basically we go along with what he suggests.”
“Where else were you going to call?”
“Oh yes, I think we were going to stop in Tomb Bay to have a look at the tombs on the way to Gocek – nothing else – we planned to be back in the marina early afternoon I think.”
“You have seen these tombs before?”
“No. We read about them and have seen pictures, so it seemed a good idea to call in there.”
“Tell me about your first visit to Kapi Creek.” The officer seemed to be after something that Jack was unaware of.
“We just arrived in the afternoon – Monday it would have been – and did the usual things. We all went for a swim; we all sat around in the sun. Bruce and I walked over the hill to see across to the other side of the cape. We all had a drink on the boat before dinner, and then ate in the taverna. I don’t remember anything unusual.”
“Was Mr Fox with you all the time?”
“He didn’t come with us for the walk. I think he was chatting to the taverna owner. He was on the boat the rest of the time, and ate with us in the evening.”
“And he didn’t leave you at all that evening?”
“He left the taverna before us,” Patricia reminded Jack.
“What time was this?”
“What do you think dear? I can’t remember precisely.” Jack had hazier recollections of the details than Patricia due to the enthusiasm of his enjoyment of the Turkish wine.
“Well we probably ate about eight o’clock, and we sat on for a good while afterwards. If Alex left after the food it was probably some time between nine and ten.”
“Did you see him again that night?”
“Yes, he was waiting for us on the boat when we got back – must have been eleven or so.”
“Did he say what he had been doing?”
“Don’t think we asked him. He had charts and the pilot book out on the table and I think we had a chat about where we would go for the next few days. That was the usual pattern.”
“And did you see him meet with or talk to people other than the taverna owner?”
“Not that I remember. Now look here,” Jack was starting to feel more confident, “we need to telephone the British Embassy to sort out whatever is going on here.”
“There will be time for that later Dr Fulton. It is three o’clock in the morning. This is not a time for making phone-calls.”
Jack didn’t argue. He hadn’t really been told if he could or couldn’t make the call, just that it wasn’t worthwhile at this hour. He decided to wait.
“If you would take your seats outside again please Doctor, Mrs Fulton.” The officer gestured towards the door, and made no movement to hand back the documents or the rest of the contents of the bag. Jack hesitated, eyeing the phone which was now with his other belongings.
“Your belongings are quite safe here Dr Fulton, please wait outside.”
They did as they were asked and exchanged shrugs and raised eyebrows with Bruce and Julie as they swapped places. After a seemingly interminable delay, which was probably only fifteen minutes, Julie and Bruce emerged from the office and took their seats again.
“What did he ask you?” Patricia whispered to Julie.
“Really just about why we were in Kapi, and who decided where we went. He seemed interested in Alex really. What about you?”
“Same thing. He’s got our passports and phones.”
“Ours too. Bruce asked for them and he was told to be patient.”
They sat mostly silently for 30 minutes while voices could be heard in other offices and in their interview room. There was evidently another door into it as no-one passed them in the corridor.
“Do you realise we didn’t ask about Alex or Maggie?” Julie said guiltily to Bruce.
“I certainly do. Part of the distance we want to create. I don’t want them to think we are linked in any way other than as customers.”
“It seems, I don’t know, maybe disloyal or something.”
“You don’t think it was disloyal of them to land us in the middle of all this?”
“I suppose.”
The time dragged on.
Light started to appear in the sky before they saw more activity.
Two of the black-clad guards came noisily into the corridor, and seeing the four English captives immediately went silent. Their black overalls were dusty, their hands were still covered in the latex gloves they presumably used when searching. They looked tired and dishevelled as they knocked on the officer’s door, and when summoned went in.
The four waiting English captives could hear voices which sounded like the two guards making a report and then being questioned. It lasted only a few minutes. The door opened again and the black-clad figures disappeared down the corridor and round a corner. Silence again.
“Ssh, he’s on the phone,” whispered Patricia, who was nearest the officer’s door. “He’s reporting to someone I bet.”
A minute later there was the single ding of the telephone receiver being replaced, the sound of a chair scraping on the floor, and finally the door opened.
“Please come in all of you.”
They filed into the office, and could see their belongings laid out on the officer’s desk. A closed manila file was alongside them.
“On behalf of the Sahil Guvenlik – the Coastguard – I would like to thank you for your patience and co-operation. I am sorry you have been inconvenienced. You are now free to collect your belongings and return to the yacht. I would ask you please to complete your packing right away, and bring your bags back to the building here. I will arrange for you to be transported into town where you can get some breakfast at a hotel and wait for the time for your flight.”