“Ricky Rowlands?”
“Indeed, our famous Mr Rowlands. We had raised his interest the way we had opened a new supply line and we had agreed that I would start shipping more, using more yachts and deliver to him either at Shoreham or Newhaven. Scale up, you might say. Mr Rowlands liked my entrepreneurial mindset. He would have coke delivered from Antwerp to Yport and we would ferry it across. Perfect.”
“Bert Devos stood in the way of your little plan.”
“Quite. It was amazingly easy to lure him out to his boat last Monday. I had entered the Marina from the sea using our RIB, making sure I was invisible to the CCTV. Earlier that week I had disabled the CCTV on the jetty by just cutting a cable. After he was gone, I left the same way.”
“But now you have no one any more to ferry your stuff.”
Tony’s face looked a little worried at that.
“You’re right in fact. We should have brought in another load tonight, but the new guy chickened out because of the weather. But there are plenty more guys who want to make easy money.”
“And every time you did that you told me you were on a business trip.”
He laughed. A horrible sound.
“Yes, you dumb cow. You never asked me any questions about those trips, did you? I even resigned over a year ago as this is so much more profitable.”
“Why are you telling me all this now?”
He shrugged.
“You aren’t going to tell anyone. And no one but you would make the connection, I think. We have been incredibly careful.”
“I’m a police officer, Tony. Of course, I will tell. And I’m not as stupid as you may think. I have recorded this conversation on my phone here and will mail that to my team in a second. Thanks for the elaborate confession. You are going away for an awfully long time.”
Tony reached into the pocket of his Musto jacket that was hanging next to him and took out his sailing knife.
“You better hand that over to me, or you’ll be sorry,” he threatened.
Ianthe took a step back, picked up the gun and pointed it at him.
“Drop the knife, Tony,” she warned him. “Remember I’m a police officer. It’s over. You won’t hurt me anymore.”
“Stupid tart,” he snarled. “You won’t shoot me. I’ll take it from you and shove it up your cunt.”
He came at her.
She pulled the trigger three times.
THE END
Dead in the Water Page 31