As Vasily turned away and started to walk towards the starboard companion way, his hand was trembling so badly he swung the torch from side to side to disguise his fear. He approached the first watertight door and placed both hands on the opening lever. He couldn’t stop both of his hands and arms from trembling. As he gripped the lever to open the hatch the trembling seemed to move across his chest and into his stomach. It felt as if his whole body was vibrating. He sank to his haunches. His hands slid down the face of the hatch as he rolled over onto his side. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. Curled into a ball on the hard deck he rocked from side to side. His whole body was trembling and tears were streaming from his eyes. He tried to control a deep sob but only managed to blow snot down his nose and into the mask. He was ashamed of himself but couldn’t help it. He pulled a rag from his pocket, forced it under the hood and wiped the mask clean. It was then he realised that the smoke was getting thicker. He also realised he couldn’t hear anything. Stepan must be through the first hatch and on his way along the port side hull. Then he felt it. Something had moved in the belly of the ship. Was the ship going down? Through his tears he looked at his watch. He knew there was no way he would be able open all the hatches in the time, but Stepan would have opened all the hatches on the port side and all the connecting hatches to the holds by now.
Vasily knew what he was going to do. He stood up, forced the rag under his hood and wiped the tears and slime from his face. He walked slowly back to the corner by the foot of the stairwell and waited, listening for Stepan or the master.
He didn’t have to wait long. He heard the feet on the metal staircase and turned the corner into the stairwell. Through the gathering smoke he could see torch beams bouncing down the steps. Then another beam emerged ahead of him to his right; it was Stepan.
‘All done?’ asked the master in an expectant tone as other crewmen followed the captain into the stairwell.
One was carrying an Acrow building prop, the two others had a sandbag on each shoulder. Fear washed over both Stepan and Vasily. Were they going to check they had opened the hatches? However, as soon as the fear emerged, it disappeared. Their friends turned away towards the main hatch into the engine room.
‘Aye, sir,’ replied Stepan as he turned to Vasily, Vasily just nodded.
‘Right, go and collect a few things but just personal items, nothing bulky,’ said the master. ‘Go back to the mess and wait for me,’ he added.
It was suddenly clear what the master was intending to do. He was going to place the scuttling charge against the locking mechanism of the hatch and hold it in place with sandbags and the building prop. When the charge exploded it would simply blast the hatch open. Millions of litres of sea water would be released into the ship.
‘Wedge a bag here and here,’ directed the master.
One of the seamen slipped a sandbag from one shoulder and it dropped to the deck. He slipped the other one off his shoulder and lowered it to the deck. The sailor dragged a sandbag along the deck until it was positioned against the companionway wall. A heavy boot stamped on it to make a solid base for the prop. The other crewman was adjusting the Acrow prop. He was pulling out the central tube to get the prop to roughly the right length. Once the charge and sandbag were positioned he could tighten up the prop to hold everything in place. The master waited until the prop was in place. One of the crewmen braced himself against the underside of the prop as the other pushed the sandbag up the face of the hatch. The master placed the charge against the hatch and helped to pull the sandbag in place.
‘I’ll tell you when to stop tightening the prop,’ shouted the master through his mask. The smoke was getting even thicker. ‘Firm but not enough to crush it,’ he added. ‘That’s it, go get some things and then to the mess. I will meet you all there,’ he added.
Chapter 33
Leaving the stricken ship
As he finally entered the mess the master could see the men gorging on the food being piled onto tables. They were holding up the fire hoods with one hand as they fed themselves with the other. He didn’t count but guessed everyone was assembled. He could also see that there was almost as much smoke inside the mess as on deck. Coughing dryly and wiping his watering eyes he called to the first officer.
‘Oleg, how’s the lifeboat?’ he asked.
‘Ready to go. The fuel tank is full and we have lashed two twenty litre cans of fuel inside,’ he replied.
The master turned to Yuri and Dmitri asking each in turn if they had everything they needed in the lifeboat. They confirmed everything was set. He then addressed the men in the mess:
‘I’ve placed the charge. When everyone has eaten I will go and set it for fifteen minutes and come back here. I want to hear the charge go off before we get in the lifeboat. Yuri, as soon as the charge goes, we will issue a mayday. I’ll do it and I’ll explain later,’ he confided.
Dmitri offered the master a tray of food and a mug of coffee; he sat down to have his final meal on the ship that had been his home for the last six years. He chewed and swallowed the food but didn’t taste it. His mind was elsewhere. He pushed the tray away from himself and stood to address those around him:
‘Attention! In a moment I am going below to trigger the scuttling charge and will come back here. We are going to wait here until we hear the charge go off and then make our way to the lifeboat. If there is anyone who hasn’t collected their personal items do it now and come straight back here. Once that charge goes off we will not be waiting around,’ he added.
The master left the mess and made his way down to the main hatch he was planning to blow. The smoke seemed to be thicker than before and he could now hear the flames roaring from the engine room. He knew the chief engineer was still in there but beyond help. He only switched the torch on as he descended the stairwell to the main hatch. In the narrow beam he could clearly see the braced Acrow prop and charge. Without hesitation he unscrewed the clear plastic cap that protected the arming lever and threw it to one side. He put his thumb beneath the red toggle and levered it into position to expose the button that would initiate the detonation. He pressed it without hesitation and a red light started to blink as the countdown began. It should have been a memorable moment but it wasn’t. He merely braced himself for the gauntlet of smoke he would have to endure before getting back to the mess.
Everyone in the mess heard the dull “crump” of the exploding charge and felt the slight vibration through their feet. For a moment the master tried to visualize the scene. The high explosive would either punch a gaping hole through the metal hatch or simply blow it off its hinges. Either way water would be racing through the companion ways and into the holds. It would be just a matter of time. With a bit of luck the ship would go down before dawn. As if on cue the crew turned to the door and started to make their way to the lifeboat. It all seemed so calm and ordinary, as though this was something they did every day. They walked through the gloom in single file and took their places in the lifeboat and buckled up. Pitched at a steep angle everyone was leaning towards the prow. The master took one last look at the ship but realised in the still billowing smoke there was little to see. He climbed into the lifeboat, buckled up and shouted to the helmsman to go.
It was an odd sensation. They could feel the release and for a few seconds the bumpy slide down the escape ramp. Then that weird feeling of weightlessness as they plunged towards the sea, only to feel the impact on the water and the stomach-churning movement as the lifeboat twisted and nosed to the surface. It rocked and rolled before it settled and started to ease away from the doomed ship. The navigation officer had the chart folded in his hands and was directing the helmsman onto the bearing that would take them to Syracuse. It was still dark and an hour to dawn and impossible to see the ship through the portholes. If the master was right the ship would be on the seabed before dawn and they would be well on the way to a landing in Sicily.
Shaun walked towards the bow, a tin of
Brasso and rags in his hand. It was a beautiful morning. The sun was coming up, there was just a ripple on the surface of the water and it promised to be a lovely day. The Sultano was cruising effortlessly at an economical fifteen knots. They were off the southern coast of Sicily and heading for Gibraltar. Shaun had been busy in the final days before leaving Croatia. He had concentrated on the essentials rather than the cosmetic. He was going to rectify that now. As he approached the Moffat water cannon he scanned the sea around them. There was nothing in sight. Leisurely he ripped open the Velcro fastenings and slipped off the canvas cover that protected the nozzle of the cannon. The dents and scratches were testimony to its service but as far as Shaun was concerned they merely added to its character. He shook the can of Brasso, unscrewed the cap, covered the open end with the rag and let some of the Brasso be absorbed into it. Almost lovingly he smeared it over the brass nozzle and started to rub away the years of grime. The sun glinted on the small area he had cleaned and it shone like gold. He was getting into a rhythm, thinking of nothing in particular, when his senses kicked in. He caught the smell of burning and was suddenly alert. It couldn’t be the Sultano because any smell of burning would be blown away. It must be coming from up wind. He could sense the direction of the wind on his face and squinted into it and towards the horizon. Even though the sun was behind him it took a few seconds to spot the smudge of smoke. If a ship was on fire polishing the water cannon could wait. He quickly refitted the canvas cover and made his way to the bridge.
Jack and Sandro were finishing their breakfast at one end of the large dining room table.
‘Jack, Sandro, I’ve just spotted smoke on the horizon. It’s just off the starboard bow. You can smell it. It may be nothing but I think we should check,’ said Shaun. The urgency in his voice was clear.
‘Let’s go see,’ replied Jack and all three of them moved towards the bridge.
Kev was standing by the main console but heard them enter the bridge. He turned to face them.
‘Kev, Shaun has spotted a wisp of smoke off the starboard bow and can smell burning in the air. Have you noticed anything?’ asked Jack.
Kev immediately looked towards his display panels and then towards the horizon.
‘Nothing on the screen,’ he announced. ‘I can’t see anything, but if Shaun smells burning on the wind we can take a look. I’ll take her up to full power and keep an eye on the displays. Why don’t you take the binoculars and see what you can spot?’ he added.
The surge from the twin diesels was immediate and Jack had to grab the edge of the console to maintain his balance. Within moments the Sultano had bounded forward, been lifted out of the water and was careering along at over twenty knots. Twin trails of white swirling water were strung out behind her as she set off towards the far horizon. Shaun made his way back to the engine room. He braced himself with a hand on a bulkhead. It wasn’t to steady himself but rather to feel for any vibration as the engines wound up to full speed. He couldn’t feel anything and smiled to himself.
On deck it was exhilarating. The Sultano was flying and the wind tried to push them backwards. At first it was just the speed and the wind but suddenly both Jack and Sandro could smell it, the distinctive smell of burnt paint and diesel oil. They jammed themselves into corners and against rails as they scanned the horizon. It was Sandro who spotted the smoke first and yelled out to Jack. At the same time Kev came over the external speaker system.
‘Looks like smoke on bearing 245 degrees. There’s nothing on the AIS and nothing else around. I’m changing course to 245 degrees,’ Kev explained as the Sultano eased over and settled on her new course.
As the minutes passed the wisp of smoke on the horizon became clearer and the acrid smell of burning paint and diesel got stronger. At first Sandro thought it was just smoke settling on the water. However, as they got closer it became clear; the smoke was settling around a ship. It looked like a small freighter. From their angle of approach it appeared the vessel was down at the stern and listing to port. In fact the ship was so low at the stern that the bulbous prow was almost out of the water.
The Sultano slowed as it approached the stricken ship. Patrick remained in the engine room whilst Jack, Sandro and Shaun assembled on deck as Kev manoeuvred around the freighter.
‘Gronkowski 34, St Petersburg,’ said Shaun as he read the name and home port of the ship from the stern. ‘Looks like a Russian built freighter. I’d say it was about three thousand tonnes. Reckon they have had an engine room fire. You can see where the old paint has been burnt from the hull and where the flames and smoke have found their way out of the ship,’ he added.
The Sultano moved slowly across the stern and was sailing through the thickest smoke.
‘The lifeboat has gone,’ said Shaun as they all looked at the empty space and ramp. ‘Looks like they have abandoned ship,’ Shaun added.
‘But why?’ asked Jack. ‘She must have been in this state for hours, even days,’ he said. ‘She looks a long way from going down.’
As they began to turn Kev gave two short blasts on the ships horn. He was telling the Gronkowski 34 that the Sultano was going to overtake them on their port side. Kev also hailed them over the external speakers but no one appeared on deck. The ship looked deserted.
‘Reckon they have been rammed,’ observed Shaun as he pointed to the mangled rail along the port side near the stern. ‘Could be that they are holed below the waterline. She is well down at the stern and there’s a marked list,’ he added.
‘But she hasn’t gone down,’ said Sandro in an encouraging tone that seemed at odds with the scene.
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ asked Jack with a smile crossing his face.
‘How many times have you come across an abandoned freighter that you could salvage? It’s certainly worth considering,’ he replied with a chuckle.
‘Shaun, can you grab new fire suits and torches for the three of us? I’ll dig out a grappling iron, line and rope ladder. Sandro, can you find out as much as you can about the Gronkowski 34? Kev, can you bring us under the rail of the freighter but away from the smoke?’ asked Jack as he moved from the bridge towards the stores.
Chapter 34
Following the money
Penny sat back heavily in her office chair. She arched her back, her neck and stretched her arms towards the ceiling in an attempt to ease the ache in her back and shoulders. She and two colleagues had been wading through financial records for days. Today she had spent almost ten hours on the task but it had been worth it. Inspector Tomich had obtained copies of the financial records for Pharmaco, and for Mrs Kovačić’s bank accounts. He had also assigned a forensic accountant and a detective to work with Penny on exploring any discrepancies.
The pattern that emerged was consistent with what they already knew. At the time Tadej Kovačić was murdered Pharmaco was simply plodding along. According to the forensic accountant the company was being run like a benevolent society. Pharmaco was overstaffed, productivity was poor and the company made little profit. There had been no investment or new lines in years but no one seemed to care.
The detective discovered that Tadej had taken out life insurance policies for himself and his wife when they got married. The policies included a clause about the murder of the insured that doubled the payout. It was eventually paid to his son, Mislav. From their investigation it seemed the insurance money and the sale of the family home were all spent on building a new home for Mislav and Petra Kovačić. It also emerged that within months of Tadej’s death Mislav and Petra restructured the company and borrowed heavily to fund new production and packaging equipment. National and regional sales were steadily increasing. The patterns in the financial documents revealed nothing untoward. Indeed, they merely illustrated how Mislav and Petra Kovačić had breathed new life into the company. The profits were reasonable but not spectacular.
Despite all her searching Penny could find no reference to consultancy payments to Jim Blake or Lawrence Anders
on and certainly no reference to US$100,000 in fees and expenses! It was the only discrepancy that she could find. However, Tomich’s detective discovered an anomaly that he was pursuing. He had been investigating the accounts of the two bodyguards that Petra employed. It seemed they were both on the payroll and received a good salary. What was interesting was that whilst the woman, Anna, had credit cards and a pattern of normal spending. The man, Luca, did not have a credit card and his bank account revealed no transactions! His salary was paid in each month but he had not made a withdrawal in over a year. His account was dormant and simply growing.
During the week Luca spent most of his time close to Mrs Kovačić. However, the detective discovered that almost every Sunday Luca visited the home of a woman in Split. Prostitution is illegal in Croatia and the detective knew precisely which sticks to raise and which carrots to offer. He was prepared to turn a blind eye to whatever she did in return for information. It seemed Luca paid handsomely for her services and always in US dollars! It raised the questions: “where did the dollars come from and why not pay in Croatian Kuna or Euros?”
The forensic accountant had looked specifically at the recent international transactions in Brazil, Russia, India and China. He noted that the health and beauty products that Pharmaco was selling were priced extremely cheaply; they made a marginal profit. It was possible that the company was trying to get a foothold in these markets but it couldn’t continue operating at current prices for long.
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