by Derek Fee
“If you say so.” He was getting annoyed at her attempts to psychoanalyse him. Or maybe he was a little bothered by the fact that she was so close to the mark. He didn’t usually get this type of analysis when he was undercover. Most of the villains he dealt with had incidents in their past that they didn’t care to discuss. Abusive and fucked-up childhoods are something that most inarticulate criminals don’t share with their fraternity members. This operation was like no other that he had been on. He was dealing with ordinary, honest individuals who were getting on with their lives without knowing that they were pawns in someone else’s game.
“Look, I need to ask you a question.”
He stopped and faced her. “Another one.”
“That was your first time in a powerboat, right?”
“Yes.” She had showered and he could smell her freshness beneath a hint of perfume.
“Weren’t you scared? Even a little bit.”
“Not particularly,” he said matter-of-factly. He pulled his mind back to the job at hand. “Years of training. You know the army. They want automatons – don’t scare easily, react automatically, stay cool, get the job done. Tick follows tock follows tick. The lessons of a lifetime.”
Her brow furrowed. “You can really be that cold?”
“You’ve asked more than your one question.” They had reached the door of the office building. “Driving your father’s boat is another job to me. At the end of the season, I’ll have completed my obligation to my uncle and your father and then I’ll be on my way. So don’t bother yourself trying to get into my head. There isn’t a great deal going on there. I’ve got to take a shower before I hit the hot spots of Falmouth.”
“Maybe we could have dinner together?”
It would have been so easy to say yes. And he wanted to. “No, I don’t think so. I have a prior arrangement with Doc.” He pushed open the door of the office and left her standing in the yard.
She waited until the door of the office was shut before saying, “Damn.” Was he doing it on purpose? Although she would never admit it to her parents, she had been involved with men since she was thirteen when she had lost her virginity to her dishy English teacher at the private school her parents had sent her to. Since then, a long parade of men had found their way into her bed. All had been invited and all had been dumped. She had an insight into men and it was telling her that Mark Kane was interested. Then why the hell was the bastard playing hard to get? And why the enigmatic personality? Maybe this was his gambit. Come over all mysterious and hope that the female would swoon over him. Well, she wasn’t the swooning type. But she did find him interesting. So many unanswered questions. She would have to find out a lot more about her new teammate.
Chapter Fifteen
“This had better be good.” Superintendent Davenport looked across the bay from the imposing height of Pendennis Fort. “I have a desk full of work back at the Yard and pleasant as the view is, I don’t have the time to waste on useless trips to Cornwall.”
“I wouldn’t have asked for this meeting if I didn’t feel it was necessary.” Doc Watson walked alongside Davenport as they toured the parapets of the ancient fort. There had been a fortification on this hill for four hundred years and the present structure dated from Tudor times.
“I agonised over my decision to contact you but I felt you needed to be informed of my unease about Mark. I think we have a problem.”
“Already?” Davenport was beginning to feel that Kane had been right on the question of a partner. He’d known that Kane was likely to be difficult to work with but he had hoped that Watson would be flexible enough to fit in with Kane’s unconventional approach. “What’s this problem we’ve got.”
“I think he’ll crack up big time.”
“I don’t think so.” Davenport had read every word in Watson’s file and spoken to the man’s superiors in Manchester. He wasn’t the type who flapped easily. Ergo the visit to Falmouth as soon as he called. He hoped that getting the message from him would not be the equivalent of pulling teeth. “I know he’s unconventional but he’s also effective. His record speaks for itself.”
“I know.” Doc sat down on one of the ancient walls. “I checked the bugger out before I agreed to participate in this operation.”
“Maybe we should start at the beginning.” Davenport towered over Doc. “And let’s get to the point as quickly as possible.”
Doc related his experience with Kane. The scream in the middle of the night. The sweat and the obfuscation when he had pursued the matter.
When he was finished, he looked into Davenport’s eyes. “I think that there’s something that you know that I should know and I think that you should tell me as soon as possible. For me, Kane is a perfect case of PTSD. He might have been suffering for weeks, months or years but I can tell you that I don’t want to be around when he cracks. The man needs professional help.”
Davenport held Doc’s stare. The man had risen inestimably in his opinion over the past few minutes. It had taken guts to call his superior officer this early in an operation but it had taken a damn sight more to inform on his partner’s apparent weakness. “Maybe there is something you need to know.” Davenport sat on the wall beside Doc. “And perhaps you should have known from the beginning. Kane was married. He had a wife and children: a two-year-old boy and a one-year-old girl. His wife was a high-strung girl. She was never really at home with him being an undercover copper. But everything was alright until the first child arrived. About two weeks after the birth, she began to develop post-natal depression. He took time off work and gradually his wife got on top of things and the depression appeared to go away. Things returned to normal, if you can say that the life of any SO10 copper is ever normal. He was constantly living on the edge. He was away from home a lot and although he loved his wife and child there were obvious strains on the marriage. That was when they made their worst mistake. To save the marriage, his wife became pregnant with their second child.” Davenport paused for a second. He saw that Watson was listening intently. “They were over the moon. Happy again. He vowed he’d give up SO10 and move into some quiet station and be an ordinary copper again. After the second child was born, his wife hit the depths again. Major depression. I don’t think his work was helpful. He was on what was supposed to be his last case with us. He was deep undercover and hardly saw his wife for weeks on end. As soon as the spin was over, he went home. Two days later he walked into his flat at six o’clock in the evening. He found his two children hung in the hallway.”
Doc’s eyes opened wide. “Jesus Christ, the poor man.” The day suddenly didn’t feel so sunny.
“He cut them down but they were both dead,” Davenport continued. “While he was still standing over them, a couple of coppers appeared at his door. His wife had driven across town to one of her friends who lived in an apartment block. She calmly asked for a coffee and while her friend was in the kitchen, she went out through the living room window. Splattered herself all over the pavement.”
Doc put his head in his hands. “I’ve seen more than enough horror during my life but I can’t even imagine the impact of finding my kids strung up like that. Then his wife commits suicide. It’s too much for one man to take. Poor bastard.”
“That’s the story,” Davenport said. “A week later he put the three of them in the ground but I don’t think that he’s ever forgiven himself. It unhinged his mother but he seemed to be able to hold it together. He threw himself into his work. That’s why he’s the best bloody undercover officer I’ve ever known.”
Doc looked up into Davenport’s emotionless face. “When I told my colleagues that I would be working with the famous Mark Kane some of them weren’t so enthusiastic. Rumour had it that the man was good but that he had little or no regard for his own life. Now I understand why. But you know that he doesn’t care whether he lives or dies. Don’t you?”
Davenport’s face remained expressionless.
“That’s what you count on whe
n you put him out there. This is a shitty business. I wouldn’t care to be you. You don’t give a damn about Kane and that means that you probably don’t give a damn about me. You only care about the success of the mission.” He stood up and walked down the stone steps towards the keep of the fort.
Davenport followed him.
Doc stopped at the bottom of the steps “You remind me of one of those Sinbad the Sailor stories. Sinbad meets an old man by the side of a river. The old man asks Sinbad to carry him across. Sinbad agrees and the old man wraps his legs around Sinbad’s neck and sits on his shoulders. When they reach the other side, Sinbad asks the old man to get down but the old man refuses. His legs are so strongly wrapped around Sinbad’s neck that he can’t remove them. So he must carry the old man around on his shoulders. Well, that old man is you, Superintendent Davenport, so why don’t you get your legs from around Kane’s neck?”
“Don’t call me again unless you have something to report on the operation,” Davenport said curtly. “I’ve been trained to accept that the end justifies the means. Everyone who becomes a copper must accept that we’re expendable as long as we put the villains away. Grow up or quit the force. But don’t waste my time again.” He strode in the direction of his car.
Chapter Sixteen
Sorrento, Italy
Now I can die, Kane thought as he smiled and looked across the Bay of Naples at the great Italian city nestling at the foot of Vesuvius. Darkness was falling and he watched as the lights of Naples gradually flickered into life like a line of white and orange fireflies dancing their way along the rugged coast. He was standing on the second-floor balcony of the Sorrento Palace Hotel where the circus which was the Offshore Powerboat Championship was gathered for the first race of the season. He wasn’t alone on the balcony. Assorted glitterati adorned every nook and cranny of the giant marble edifice set into the hills above the famed town of Sorrento. He sipped his glass of sparkling wine and glanced around him. Not the sort of people you’d run into in the local boozer, even on a Saturday night. While the main competition of the week would be fought out by the thirty or so powerboats on the European circuit, there was a secondary competition among the camp followers as to who could dress the most expensively. Uncle Tom had ensured that his wardrobe would be up to the rigours of the season. The old Yorkshireman had arrived in Falmouth before their departure for Italy and taken Kane on a clothes-buying spree in Truro. It felt like old times. Kane was dressed in what could comfortably be called drug-chic; a blue crew-neck Armani tee shirt beneath a cream cotton jacket, and a pair of Hugo Boss blue jeans, with his bare feet stuffed into a pair of Sebago deck shoes. It was the kind of outfit that could grace either a powerboat driver or a drug dealer. The only features missing were the gold chains and the designer watch that weighed two kilos.
The past three weeks had been a grind as David had worked him and Morweena until every bone in their bodies ached. They had crossed and re-crossed Falmouth Bay dozens of times in order to give him more and more experience at the wheel of the fifty-foot powerboat. By the end of the second week, he had attained a level of familiarity with the boat which he hadn’t believed possible on his first outing. During the later runs, he really felt at one with the powerful machine, reacting instinctively to its flights through the air and controlling it easily on its return to earth. David had been a slavedriver but he had been a more than willing slave. As his ability had progressed, so had the speed at which he was permitted to run the boat. He had never experienced anything to compare with the thrill of racing flat out. The training period had been short but he was confident that he was not far from being a fully-fledged powerboat racer – he was about to find out.
“Fantastic sight.” Doc stood at his arm, beer in hand. he was kitted out in a dark blue Penhalion team sweatshirt and a pair of blue jeans. “I would never have believed that I would be standing looking out at the Bay of Naples from the balcony of a five-star hotel.”
“Glad you’re having such a good time,” Kane said without taking his eyes off the bay. Doc had been like a second skin over the past three weeks. He hadn’t figured out why his new partner was sticking so close to him but he reckoned that the instructions had come from Davenport. Doc’s attempts to get close made him uneasy. There were times when he’d felt that Doc was about to pose an awkward question only to see the words die on his lips.
The Bay of Naples scenery which had been so often written about was beautiful but Kane had come to Sorrento to do a job and not as a tourist. His eyes took in the dark hump of Mount Vesuvius rearing over the great bay and then ran along the minor hills which stretched away into the distant gloom. Villas and apartment buildings dotted the hillsides before congregating on Sorrento directly beneath his feet. Paint and plaster peeled from the sides of the buildings on either side of the large hotel. The villas were like yellow boils on a verdant scene. This was the way the world would end. An ugly building would be built on every square inch that represented beauty.
“You’ve accomplished miracles with the boat,” Doc said without looking up.
“Six weeks in and we haven’t progressed one step,” Kane replied. “There are days when I wish I’d let this chalice pass. It’s common knowledge that if you don’t solve a murder in the first twenty-four hours, the chances of finding the culprit diminish exponentially. A one-year-old murder might as well have happened in pre-historic times. The culprits might not even be on the racing circuit this year. Hell, they might not even be alive. It’s worse than looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“I’d heard that you were focused but this is ridiculous. It’s a balmy evening on the balcony of a fantastic hotel overlooking what’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful sights in the Med. Tonight we’ll have one hell of a party and tomorrow you get to drive a powerboat in the first race of the European Powerboat Championship. And what are you brooding about? Whether we’ll be successful on some half-baked operation. Most people who’ve looked death in the face tend to throw themselves at life. What’s your problem?”
The question was so open ended that Kane had the distinct feeling there was something more behind it than the simple banter of mates.
“Maybe you’re my problem.” He turned and stared into Doc’s face. “This mother-hen act doesn’t sit well with me. If I needed someone to look out for me, I would have found a partner years ago.” He turned around and faced the roomful of people behind them. “Now get off my case. If I want to brood, I’ll brood. I’m here for the operation. When it’s finished, I’m gone.”
“Mark, my boy, enjoying the view I see.” Tom stood resplendent in a white dinner jacket and red cummerbund.
“Hello.” Kane gave his new uncle an appraising look. “You’re taking the part of the powerboat team owner to heart.”
“This is bloody exciting, isn’t it?” Tom turned around and looked back at the facade of the hotel where a giant white banner stretching across the front proclaimed ‘BENVENUTI AL STARS DEL OFFSHORE’. “You’re right of course, it’s more fun than sitting behind a desk in Leeds. I’m having a ball playing at being the team sponsor, it’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever been involved with. Far more glamorous than building up my own business. And of course, far more costly. Still, what else was there to do with the money?”
“Exciting I don’t know about. But it certainly is different,” Kane said.
The crowds on the balcony outside the hotel’s San Antonio Restaurant were growing and waiters pushed their way through the throng dispensing drinks and canapés. Kane watched the diamond-bedecked ladies and Armani-suited men cast glances around trying to locate those richer and more famous. The Italian Offshore Championship simply provided another occasion for the glitterati to parade themselves. The same people would be found adorning the Palio di Siena or the Fiesta de San Fermin in Pamplona. They had assembled in Sorrento to watch a scattering of millionaires and assorted boating professionals race powerful boats. If they were lucky, they would see somebody die. If they
weren’t, then tant pis. Either way, the first day of the running of the bulls in Pamplona was only a few weeks away and it could always be counted on for the sight of a little red blood.
“Take it from me,” Tom said, adjusting his cummerbund over his expansive stomach, “This is a far cry from owning the local football team.”
Kane saw Morweena approaching through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting people as she passed. It was obvious that his “throttleman” was a popular attraction on the circuit.
“I must say that I approve of your taste in clothes.” Morweena emerged from the throng and looked appraisingly at Kane. “Very macho but at the same time very chic. The ladies better watch themselves this evening.”
“Does that mean that I pass muster with your friends in the circus?” Kane said. Morweena was dressed in a white silk creation which set off perfectly the deep brown colour of her skin. It was one of those occasions when somebody should have said ‘My God you look beautiful’ but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It would have sounded corny coming from his lips. He had been trying to play down the sexual chemistry between them but there had been times over the past few weeks when he would have given a month’s pay to reach out and touch her. The mantra ‘she’s off limits’ kept playing in his mind but there was only so much of an ‘off limits’ Morweena that any red-blooded man could stand. She stood out even in the roomful of ‘divine creatures’.
“Even the Italian sunshine can’t blunt your rapier-like tongue.” Morweena turned to face the two older men. “You’re looking very distinguished, Tom.”
Kane smiled as a blush spread over the older man’s face.
“And even Doc looks like a marina Romeo,” Morweena continued.
“And you, Morweena, are the prettiest sight I’ve seen for a very long time,” Tom blurted out.
“I’ll drink to that,” Doc added.