To Catch A Storm

by Warren Slingsby

  “Drawers in the table in there possibly.” She gestured toward the living area.

  He came back a minute later.

  “I saw this on TV. Not sure if it works.”

  He stuck the paper clip into the back of the hand cuff and the clasp pulled open. Janet pulled back away from the anchor. Charlie got up and dived back in. He swam to Dimitri and pulled his body back toward the rear deck. Then he held Dimitri’s hand up to Janet.

  “Cuff him can you?” Charlie asked her. She snapped the cuff around his wrist. Charlie climbed back onto the deck and then pushed the anchor over the edge. Dimitri immediately begin heading wrist first toward the bottom. In seconds, he was inverted. His feet poked briefly from the surface of the water. Then his legs become two dark shapes. Then he was gone.

  Charlie popped open the first-aid box that was attached to the side of the rear deck and gave some basic first aid. An alcoholic wipe, then gave her gauze to hold over the wound and then he wrapped a bandage around the wrist and secured it with tape.

  “How did you get on this yacht?” she asked him.

  “I paddled out here on a canoe I rented from Nice. Took me about an hour. I’m guessing I’ve lost my deposit by now.”

  “Where is the canoe now?” she asked confused.

  “It’s tied to the side of the yacht. Then I managed to get on board just a few minutes before Igor. Luckily I tied it on the other side of the yacht so he obviously didn’t see it. I managed to sneak on board whilst you were in there with the man and woman who locked you in. Was that Nicolay?”

  “Yes. OK, right, start from the beginning please. I’m so confused by all this. I’m really thankful that you saved my life just now, but how the fuck did you end up here? On this boat: in Nice: now?”

  “Depends what you call the beginning. If we’re gonna be straight with one another, where is the beginning for you? How did you come by the bag of cash? If you can tell me that then I can probably fill in some gaps for you too.”

  There didn’t seem much point now to not tell him. She told him everything she knew about Joseph which wasn’t much. It felt good to get it all out. Purged. The reason she’d been in Edinburgh. The meeting with Joseph and going with him to Glasgow. She understood now why he was so keen to get out of Edinburgh. She explained how much drugs and drink they consumed and how she thought that was the cause of Joseph’s death. They came across her as she was leaving the hotel. The car was Joseph’s.

  Charlie explained how he had come to be part of the gang and how they had managed to steal the painting from the auction house by posing as the secure courier company. How after Joseph had delivered the painting to the contact, Joseph had then double crossed them to take the money himself leaving other members of the gang at the motorway services.

  He explained how they had tracked her down to Edinburgh using Joseph’s phone which she had and that he was talked into drugging her in Edinburgh by the gang, but how he regretted it. She just gave him a look which said ‘sure’ and nothing more for now. How they had followed the phone to Brighton. Then he went on to explain how he’d tracked her down to Barcelona.

  “Again, I’m not proud of it but I tracked you down through your mum. Her email password is Janet1. She led me straight to you at Barcelona Airport.”

  Janet came back, “Nice work. Hacking and following an old lady.”

  “I’m not proud. I did really want that money back. At the time. But I’m over that now.”

  He spied Dimitri’s cigarettes on the table and took one out and offered her the packet. She accepted. He dropped the lighter out from the packet and lit their cigarettes. Then laid back for a second, shut his eyes and inhaled. It all tasted more of salt and blood than tobacco but it gave him a hit he needed.

  “I only smoke after sex and near death by drowning experiences.” Charlie quipped.

  “So carry on.” Janet told him. She leaned back and breathed the smoke in deeply. It hurt her lungs but it felt good. This was the first cigarette she’d smoked since the night all this started.

  “Where was I? Ah, yes. I was supposed to just keep an eye on you until Carl came out here.”

  “He’s the bald one right?” Charlie nodded. “That fucker gave me a real slap. Nice guy.”

  Charlie explained that something had happened back at home, delayed them and then she had started on her road trip to Nice so he’d been told to just tail her. He explained that another man was following her too and was watching the yacht on the mainland just outside of Nice. He explained he had no idea who he was or why he was following her. He told her what he looked like but she had no recollection of seeing him. Charlie missed out explaining how the man had been in her Barcelona house. None of this sounded good, but allowing her to have the stranger in her house whilst her mother was there was pretty inexcusable really.

  “I thought I’d managed to remove all the traces of my old life. Anything that might lead you to me. I knew there was a possibility you would try every which way to get to me. Well, get the money.”

  “But I’m over that now. I really am. When I was on the mainland watching the yacht with you on. I felt you were in danger and it made me feel like I wanted to protect you.”

  “You’re the one I need protection from.” she said with a cold sneer.

  “I can understand you saying that, but really my mind changed. If I could do anything to wind back time to the point in Edinburgh before I dropped that Rohypnol in your drink. I would. We were getting along really well.”

  “Were.”

  “So what was so important on this yacht? Am I right in thinking there is something on this yacht that you’re after?”

  She stood up. “Perhaps this is something you can help with.” She guided him round the side of the yacht and to the inner central corridor, through the outer study which was now a mess with books all over the floor and to the secret inner study. He looked mystified. She leaned against the desk and pointed toward the wall. He looked at the painting. Then looked up close at the rough oil strokes that made up its surface.

  “Is this an original?” he asked.

  “Look at the inscription on the rudder of the boat.”

  He crouched down and leaned in close to the surface on the far right of the painting and read out aloud “Rem… brandt”. His eyebrows raised and he stood back to take it all in better.

  “That is ‘The Storm on the Sea of Galilee’ by Rembrandt from the early 1600s. It was stolen from a museum in Boston along with a load more paintings. Vermeer. Manet. No one knows who did it. None of the paintings have ever been found. Until now. It disappeared in 1990 and now it’s here in this secret study where only a single oligarch can view it. Sick eh?”

  “Bet there’s a hefty reward for this now.” said Charlie.

  “Yeah five million dollars. But I don’t want the reward Charlie. This is worth fifty mill’. To the right person. I don’t want first class money Charlie. I want private jet money.”

  “Ok, good point.” he was nodding.

  She explained how she had come to find the letter at the bottom of the bag of cash and how she had cracked its code and wanted initially to put her theory to the test. See if it held water.

  “But now that they tried to kill me. I wanna take it. I want that to myself.”

  Charlie was mesmerised by the painting.

  “That’s Rembrandt in the middle with the pink hat on.” she said knowingly. “So they say.”

  He stared into the storm.

  “Christ?” he pointed at the character to the right of Rembrandt. She nodded. “You want me to help you get it off the boat?”

  “I do, but how the hell can I trust you?” She asked him. Genuinely reaching for a way. An olive branch to grab. “I did this on my own. I’m not gonna let your ‘gang’ have it. OK?”

  “I don’t know yet how I can regain your trust. But give me a little time and I might just show you. If I do, I’m not doing it for ‘the’ gang. I
’m not working with them.” he shrugged his shoulders to show her he was genuine. “Maybe if I come up with a plan for getting this off to start with. Do we need to go soon? Are those others - Nicolay - likely to come back shortly?”

  “I have no idea. I don’t want to stay here for long.” She said looking him up and down whilst his eyes were on the painting.

  “I think it would be good to get off this boat as soon as possible. Is there another rib or jet ski or anything?”

  “Rib? Don’t even know what that is, let alone where there would be one.”

  “I mean another small boat for getting to the coast.”

  She shook her head.

  “I doubt we could drive this thing away or dock it anywhere, it’s too big, so we’re gonna need a way of getting off it somehow. We may need to use my little canoe but it would be a struggle and I don’t want to risk it with this,” pointing to the painting, “this painting is a little big for it. Plus we’ll be spotted by your stalker. Unless we could wait until dark. But that’s too long.”

  “Yes, that’s hours away. I think they could come back before then. They’re probably on their way back now. They’ve probably called Dimitri and figured out things have gone wrong.”

  “OK, can you take a look around the boat for…” he thought for a second, “them or anyone approaching us and for a jet ski or some life raft or something? See you at the rear of the yacht.”

  “Quickly. What are we doing with the picture if we do manage to get it off this yacht?” she asked.

  “I don’t want it Ok. I just want off this yacht and I want to help you. If the picture happens to come off with us, then it’s a bonus, but it’s up to you what you do with it. Clear?”

  She nodded. Janet looked for a few minutes but saw nothing of note and no one approaching. Yet.

  Charlie took considerably longer. He was half looking and half thinking. Trying desperately to come up with a plan. He looked in the bridge briefly, but as geeky and technical as his mind was, there was no way he could figure out how to get the yacht going. Too many buttons, dials, nobs, wheels, sliders.

  He got to the rear deck where Janet was looking over the sides of the yacht.

  “Anything?”

  “Not really.” She replied. “Except… how good exactly are you at swimming?”

  “I’m pretty good. What you thinking? I’d struggle to swim back to shore and it would take too long.”

  “That.” She said pointing further out to sea.

  He looked out to where another three yachts were moored. “Another yacht?”

  “No. Not another yacht. Looks what’s attached to the back of the far right one.”

  “Oh, yeah, good thinking.” He could see a little inflatable with an outboard motor attached to the back of the yacht. “Do you think it will have the keys in it?”

  “One way to find out. You said you were a good swimmer.”

  “Jesus. This is gonna’ take me about half an hour and I wanted to be off here before then. Can you find something to wrap that painting in? Curtains or a bed spread maybe. And on the off chance they come back, I suggest you hide out and keep a look out for me. Make sense?”

  “Ok, will do. Get going!” She said with a mix of urgency and impatience and then. “But be careful, please. Ok?”

  “Anything else?”

  She didn’t reply and set off down toward the front of the boat at a pace.

  She found a blanket which would wrap several times around the painting and a rope which she cut to a sensible length. She wrapped the painting to double thickness and then secured the rope around it.

  Back on deck, she checked the coast was still clear. So far so good. No speedboats heading toward them, but also she couldn’t see Charlie swimming anywhere. He was probably too small to see by now. Out this far, the azure blue gave way to a dark, almost black, blue. Charlie’s dark mop of hair would just blend into this. She hated herself but he was really attractive to her. In spite of Edinburgh. There was no doubting he was attractive physically, but it was his charisma, his intelligence that made up the whole package. After he’d climbed out of the water with soaked clothes clinging to his body, she’d been able to see he either looked after himself or was just naturally muscular.

  She continued to scan for movement toward the yacht. Minutes seemed to be hours. She was not breathing naturally again. Almost holding her breath. Then she faintly heard a motor. The distinct sound of a propellor under water. There was a speed boat heading towards the yacht from the direction of Nice. She ducked out of view. It was a long way off. She couldn’t see who was aboard. She spun around to the direction Charlie was in but still could see nothing.

  “Come on Charlie!”

  Then she saw something move from Charlie’s direction. He had got the speedboat and was coming back. She looked back in the direction of the other boat. It was close now but she couldn’t see who was on it still. She ran up a deck so she could get a better view while trying to stay out of sight. The speedboat got to the Still Waters and continued past heading out to sea.

  Charlie made it back and tied up the commandeered speedboat to the Still Waters. The boat was basic with an outboard motor but big enough to hold them and the painting. Charlie was able carry the painting alone to the speed boat. She untied the rope and threw it into the boat.

  “Hang on a second.” She said. “I need to check I’ve not left anything.” She stood there and thought looking around. Aware someone had just died here. Okay, he’d probably not be missed by many, maybe Nicolay and would probably never be found, but still she wanted to be sure she was leaving nothing behind. “Okay.” She climbed onto the speedboat. Once on the boat, she realised those few seconds had served a dual purpose. He could have just hit the accelerator and taken off with the painting. He didn’t.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Well not back to Nice because, you have a stalker there. I just wanted off the yacht as soon as possible. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Do you know where my car is?” Janet asked.

  “Yes. It’s near your hotel.” Charlie replied still out of breath.

  “Okay, we drop you off. You swim ashore, get the car and meet me at the far end of the Promenade des Anglais. I’ll just have to ramp the boat up on the beach.”

  “Okay. Can’t think of anything more sensible unfortunately, so let’s do it.” He pushed forward on the throttle.

  She slipped her hotel key card from her back pocket. “Can you get my bag. It’s not unpacked. Can’t remember my hotel room number, but take the stairs to the second floor, turn right and then it’s the furthest room on the right. My car keys are in the bag, but check. First floor, right and far right.”

  Charlie handed over control of the boat and jumped off the boat at the far corner of the Promenade. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to walk or not. He bobbed under the water and had to swim back to the surface.

  “Be as fast as you can!” She called after him. He turned in the water and gave her a look. Janet turned across the shore toward the airport where she could see a plane landing in the distance. She pushed the throttle forwards. She would go to the far end as they had described and wait to see her car pull up. The picture leaned against the back seats of the speed boat.

  . . .

  Charlie swam to the shore and was very aware of people on the beach staring at him. It hadn’t helped that Janet had set off with a roar attracting onlookers. He came up out of the sea trying to look like he belonged there, like what he was doing was natural. Bond after a swim. On his way back to his hotel and a Martini cocktail. It wasn’t natural. He looked nothing like Bond exiting the sea. More like a drunken, half drowned tramp. He walked up the narrow pebbled beach. Pebbles and stones shooting out under foot leaving him stumbling in his exhausted state. It must have looked like he’d been thrown off the speed boat by his girlfriend.

  Once on the pavement, he set off and ran toward the hotel trying to l
ook as unobtrusive as it’s possible to look when your clothes and hair are soaked to the skin and you’re running when everyone is strolling gently. ‘Just look like you’re out for a run and sweating a lot.’ He told himself.

  He was sure the stranger would have been watching what happened on the yacht from shore but now, he was nowhere to be seen. So far. He wasn’t sure how good the stranger’s binoculars were and whether he would have been able to see Charlie’s face in enough detail to recognise him back on shore. He also wasn’t sure whether the stranger knew of the location of Janet’s hotel or car. He only remembered seeing him at the dock and on the coast as he tried to follow the yacht.

  Perhaps Charlie was in shock a little? He had just killed a man with his bare hands after all. He pulled up to a walk. In the hot sun and rested his hands on his thighs. He was steaming. Vapour rising off his shirt and hair. People stared more. It had been self defence and more importantly, defence of Janet. The guy was going to drown her. It was not cold blooded. He set off again, trying not to think about Dimitri. He tried to put his face out of his mind. For a few seconds it bobbed in front of him. Under water, his eyes wide. Charlie saw his mouth open. A gasp. He knew at that point that Dimitri was done for. He held on a little longer. Charlie kept his mouth closed, his eyes burned and his chest cramped as Dimitri was drained of his strength. Of his life. Muscles and brain shutting down without oxygen.

  As Charlie reached the hotel, he paid particular attention to the direction in which the stranger had last been seen, but he couldn’t see him. On the doorstep, he had a last look around. Nothing. As fast a runner as the stranger was, if he had set off running back at the time they set off back from the Still Waters, he probably wouldn’t be back to Nice yet. Thankfully, he had stopped dripping now. Just steam rose from him. Charlie went for the room. Stick to what he was supposed to be doing.

  . . .

  As Janet reached the far end of the Promenade, she cut the engine and the speed boat slowed to a stop. Then realised that she was baking and with the wind no longer on her face, she was burnt. Hopefully Charlie wouldn’t keep her waiting for long. He had to swim ashore, get to the hotel, grab her bag and car key and then drive over here through the traffic of Nice. It was probably four or five miles. Although it was only one road really. Her eyes were fixed on the road nearby. Where she would hopefully see her car soon. She didn’t even have sunglasses with her now. Had no idea where they could be.