The Reckless Engineer

by Jac Wright

  CHAPTER 36

  Saturday, October 30 — Fifteen Days Later

  Through the weekend Skipper and Jeremy kept a long watch, waiting for Skull to leave the premises. They picked a larger and more inconspicuous table by the corner window of the main room to the right of the entrance from the hotel. One of them watched the exits out of the backyard from the small desk dragged close to the window in the Wine Executive. Jeremy brought his laptop down and worked on the AirWater Marine designs and code from their table, keeping an eye on Skull and his gang. He connected to the office servers through the pub’s wireless network, and worked with Sean via IM messaging and phone. Skipper kept watch from the other post.

  Skull, however, never left the building. He habitually had his meals from his seat by the fireside with Hosé, Heineken, and Bull. Some of the time he walked around the pub, supervising work and repairs and occasionally chatting to punters. He took stock in the drinks storage in the middle island behind the bar and ordered re-stock. He pulled a chilled beer to serve an odd punter. He threw a stick across the yard for Bull to fetch, sitting on the stairs of the back exit from the Sugarhouse into the yard. The rest of the time he was upstairs in his flat.

  What he didn’t do, however, was leave the buildings.

  On Saturday morning Catalina arrived, bringing with her Skull’s two little boys aged about five and seven. Catalina was beautiful in an earthy way with olive skin, an oval face, and platted straight, glossy, brown hair down to her bum. She was neither too thin nor overweight. The two boys were gorgeous little things due to the mix of genes, though for certain any beauty had not been inherited from their father. They ran around everywhere on the pub grounds, in the flat, and around the hotel followed by an excited Bull, while Catalina directed the housekeeping staff and the cleaners, speaking fluent Spanish and heavily accented English. Skull played with his boys and the dog in the yard before sitting them down at his table in the Fireside and watching them draw and colour with crayons. At lunchtime he took Catalina and the boys up the metal stairs to his flat where lunch followed them, delivered by two waiters.

  Skull came down again the same time he had done the night before, about 8 p.m. The same routine ensued as the night before: He locked himself inside the Fireside with dinner and the same two men for about three or four hours, after which he escorted them out of the Fireside and out the main entrance.

  Sunday morning brought similar activities. About four in the afternoon Catalina left with the boys driven by Hosé in a black SUV.

  By Sunday afternoon, Jeremy was desperate. He had to return to work and he knew they could not pull off another day hanging out around The Rock & Oar and The Sugarhouse without arousing suspicion. Tanner had served them a late lunch in person and enquired suspiciously how their work was going.

  Immediately after watching Hosé drive off with Catalina and the boys, Jeremy sent a text for Darren to come up to the Wine Executive.

  ‘Darren, those two men are going to come in to meet Skull about eight this evening again. We are going to do this while Skull is locked in the Fireside with them.’

  ‘That is very dangerous, but I agree we cannot keep up this watch for another day.’

  Skipper walked over to the window. ‘So you are planning to climb into the flat from the metal balcony through that window to the right of the entrance. What if he closes the window, and how are you planning to get into the yard and up the metal stairs during the busiest time of the day?’

  ‘He won’t close the window. That’s the window from the loo. That room is just above the toilets downstairs, which I have checked from the inside. See the metal pipe that runs up the wall? That’s the sewer pipe and an extension from it enters through the first floor wall under that window the same way it does into the downstairs loos. He will always leave it ajar, especially in the context of the security in the yard.’

  Jeremy tapped the toolset he was packing into a black backpack.

  ‘Speaking of security in the backyard, how are you getting up to that window?’

  ‘I’m going out this window.’

  Jeremy opened his case and pulled out a heavy sailing rope he had bought from a hardware store Friday afternoon, which he had knotted at every two feet for grip. He looked around. Their room was in the part that was newly extended from the old building over what would have been the land equivalent to the yard behind the pub. Two steps from the end of the hallway led down into the room past a ‘Mind the Steps’ sign stuck on the door. A large metal pipe extended the plumbing from under the floor of the main part of the building, but it ran just above the floor in the Wine Executive and into Jeremy’s bathroom. He tied one end of the rope around the pipe with the old sailing Bowline knot used to tie a boat to a ring or a post at a dock which ensured that the more load it had on it the tighter it held. Jeremy wrapped the rope twice around the foot of the bed for added support and put his weight on it.

  ‘This should hold my weight easily. I’m going to half abseil and half climb down onto that metal balcony and I should be inside in no time. It is getting dark out there already, and no one will see me with my freshly washed black outfit on. I’m going to put gloves and a ski hat on to make sure I don’t leave prints or DNA behind because we might have to call the police in at some point.’

  Darren pursed his lips and nodded with a grave look.

  ‘You are going to go down to dinner alone about the same time tonight, Darren. I want you to buzz me on my mobile the moment Skull locks himself in the Fireside with the two men again. I shall mute the sound and put my mobile on the vibrator in my back pocket. Text me the moment Skull comes out of the Fireside so that I can get the hell out of that flat.’

  CHAPTER 37

  Sunday, October 31 — Sixteen Days Later

  Jeremy turned the lights off in the room as he normally did for his watch on the activities below, and waited. The text came through at 8:04: “Go. Skull & men are locked in the Fireside. — Darren.”

  “On my way. — Jeremy.” He muted his phone, checked to make sure it was on the vibrator, put it into his back pocket and buttoned the pocket flap, all precautions to make sure that he would sense any warning immediately.

  He carefully lowered part of the rope over the wall out the window, with the bottom end of the rope wrapped around his body, and climbed out the window into the dim yellow lights from the street lamps. The backyard had a light that came on by movement detection attached to the side wall of the hotel just below his window, but the sensors were not set to detect movement from above. He had tested it out Friday night by dangling the rope from his window. He first navigated towards the light using an abseiling movement, careful not to allow the end of the rope to fall into the sensors’ range. Having positioned himself against the wall above and to the left of the light, he removed the wire cutters he had attached to his belt, reached out, and cut the power wires with his right hand.

  The first hurdle cleared, he maneuvered himself down and towards the left and landed on the metal balcony with little difficulty. Then he removed the rope and tied it to the bottom of the railing of the balcony and hid it from immediate view by winding the rest of it into loops and taping it to the outer side of the railing with the strong black duct tape he had in his backpack.

  The window had a metal hook that would, by spring action, automatically latch itself around a short metal bar attached to the frame of the pane, preventing it from opening out more than a couple of inches. He retrieved a thin flat metal tool from his backpack, inserted it between the metal hook and the rod, and closed the window. Upon being opened again the hook latched around his metal tool, letting him open the window all the way out.

  Carefully he climbed in and landed in a bathroom, as he had expected. The lights of the flat were turned off and it was darker inside than in the streetlights. He closed his eyes for a minute and allowed them to adjust to the darkness, then took his penlight torch from his backpack and stepped out the door on his left into the hallway.
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br />   The main entrance to the flat had a double glazed PVC door with a type of lock that would latch shut into a locked state behind one. Good, he could go out the door and have it lock itself behind him.

  The hallway ran right above and parallel to the hallway downstairs and led to a massive living room. What he was looking for was paperwork or electronic evidence that would shed some light on what Skull was up to at Michelle’s house. He was looking for proof of murder.

  There was very little paperwork around the living room. A big plasma TV hung on the wall on his left, a fireplace in the wall on his right, arm chairs and two sets of luxury leather sofa suites set around the TV and the fireplace as their focal points. There was a mini bar, cabinets, a table and chairs, and wall units, none of which had any papers other than a few magazines in or on them. In the far left corner a massive bearskin rug lay over the carpet. Clearly a play area with a few toys scattered over it, the rest of the toys put away in the two chests close by. It was a lot of clashing items of luxury thrown into the mix everywhere with no real taste.

  This was apparently a place for Skull to relax with his family, but hardly a place where he would keep any evidence of his shady activities.

  Jeremy went back out into the hallway and entered through another door he had passed. It was a room that was placed roughly above the Fireside with a second door out into the living room similar to the Fireside. This door must have been put in by Skull, he thought, for it was an unusual layout to have in a flat. Either that, or Skull had had the small room partitioned out of an L-shaped living room. It was clearly an office room featuring a wall high bookcase covering half of the wall on Jeremy’s right, and a similar bookcase covering the whole of the wall opposite the hallway. A massive desk stood in the far right corner with a computer and a laptop on it. There were two comfortable armchairs next to the table set at an angle to each other. There was paperwork everywhere. Good, he would start here.

  He was crouched between the table and the bookcase trying to set up a raw backup of the PC disk, a tower unit set on the floor by the desk, when he heard a strange mechanical noise he couldn’t quite place. Instinctively he slid his backpack off the table and hid behind the solid part of the table. Next to the table was one of the big leather armchairs which hid him from the view from the direction of the second door into the living room.

  A wave of panic shot through him, raising the hairs at the back of his neck. Beads of sweat were trickling down the sides of his face. Someone was entering the flat! He checked his mobile phone, but there was no message from Darren. So Skull was still locked inside the Fireside. Who could be entering the flat?

  The mechanical noise grew louder and was followed by a screeching noise as if something heavy was being moved on hinges. Suddenly the dark room was lit. His heart thudding with fear, Jeremy crouched further down, not daring to stick his head out to see where the light or the noise was coming from. Suddenly there were voices—voices of men in the study, passing through it, and entering the living room. Someone turned a light on in the living room as the other light disappeared. The study Jeremy was in was now in semi darkness again.

  ‘Dinner was great, Skull.’ He could make out one of the voices.

  Bloody hell! How did Skull get up here past Darren? Was Darren okay? Questions buzzed through his mind.

  It was Skull and his two clients and, as far as Jeremy could make out, they were discussing a planned McAllen purchase of a container yard. Skull holding the fort for McAllen while he’s stuck in the South of England. What if Skull brought them in here for the paperwork or to view something on the computer?

  ‘Lemme get the plans lads,’ Jeremy heard Skull say a minute later. Now he was in the study.

  The thug walked up to the front side of the table with heavy steps and turned the table lamp on. Had Jeremy still been where he was before, nothing would have stopped Skull seeing him crouched behind the desk. However, in a moment of clarity Jeremy had moved behind the second sofa with its back to the wall and the shelves on the back wall, where he was now on the floor with his knees drawn up to his face. He had barely had time to push the backup disk under drawers of the table.

  He heard the rustle of the papers and then the big man headed back into the living room, leaving the table lamp on. Jeremy immediately noticed that the laptop and the rolls of paper on his desk were gone.

  The discussions continued for another half hour or so. They clearly had plans of the yard and other paperwork rolled out on a table before them and they were hammering out points the two sides disagreed on. The points of disagreement had accumulated over days of discussion and now they seemed to be in the crucial stages where agreement on them could not be put off. The voices were growing heated.

  ‘What’s in it for us, Skull?’

  One of the men posed a question. Both of them remained quiet waiting for the answer.

  ‘Wha’d ye mean? Yer doing this for yer boss like, and me doing this for me boss while he is away. We send this to the lawyers like, once de points a disagreement are ironed out.’

  ‘Okay then, what’s in it for ye?’ the other man asked.

  ‘None of ye fucking business. McAllen looks after me, and I look after him like. We’ve got each other’s back.’

  ‘What if we say that we make these final points of disagreement disappear in yer favour if ye look after de two of us?’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Half a million each.’

  ‘Get the fuck out’a here.’

  ‘Lemme put it this way. Ye boss or ye pay us half a million each, and we won’t tell de cops where ye hidin’. We heard about dat bird ye done in.’

  ‘Git up, git up, and git the fuck out’a here.’

  Jeremy heard a yell from Skull. Suddenly there were noises of fighting, people falling over, and tables and chairs being toppled. There were grunts and yelps from men being hit and kicked.

  ‘Lie down, git down on the floor. Ye move and I will fucking shoot,’ one of the men shouted.

  There was a voice of one man telling the other to tie up Skull.

  ‘Now ye tell us the truth or git a bullit in dat skull. Did ye kill dat bird?’

  ‘What’s it to ye?’ Skull growled back and then yelped from being either kicked or punched.

  ‘We want de dirt on McAllen to make sure he pay us for our trouble. Now tell me, did McAllen git ye to do dat bird in?’

  ‘Nae, he wanted me to pay de woman off?’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Two million, to sell us de house, take de boy, and disappear forever like.’

  ‘Fucking hell! Two million dough. So why did ye not pay de bird off?’

  ‘She took de offer at first like—she was all ready to take de bastard and fly—but then she suddenly got silent like. Wouldn’t answer me back.’

  ‘So you done that bird in, righ’, ’cos McAllen told ye?’

  ‘Nae, nae.’

  ‘Don’t fucking lie to us, Skull. What bird in her righ’ mind refuses two million dough?’

  One who gets a better offer from Caitlin—five million pounds and a husband, maybe much more, Jeremy thought. The gold digger was at first going to take the money, two and a half million, and run with Jack’s baby, leaving Jack high and dry, until she got a better offer from Caitlin.

  ‘Nae. Boss told me to go twist her arm like, up de offer a couple’a hundred grand like, if it came to that . . .’

  ‘Fucking liar!’

  There was a noise of a punch or a kick, and then silence.

  ‘Fucking hell, why did ye do dat for? Ye killed him! We fucking betta git out’a here.’

  Jeremy heard the two men rushing back into the study and the mechanical noise starting again. A light in the room; more noise; the light disappearing, and they were gone.

  Silence in the flat. Had they killed Skull? Jeremy rushed into the living room where he found the big thug on the rug by the fireplace face down with his hands and feet bound, and blood on the floor under his face. He
turned the Scott over, took off a glove, and felt for the pulse. He was alive. Jeremy realized he was gagged to keep him quiet and was finding it hard to breathe. He removed the gag, cleared the airway, and breathed air into him using the Heinrich manoeuvre. Skull was alive, but he had a nosebleed and a nasty cut on his forehead.

  Just then a mobile began to ring. The ring was coming from Skull’s trouser pocket. He reached in, got the mobile out, and pressed the reception key. Heineken.

  ‘Ye all righ’, boss? Wilson and Boyard came down and ran out in a hurry.’

  Jeremy mustered the best Scottish accent he could and answered in a hoarse voice, ‘Yeah, I kicked de buggers out. Don’t let anyone disturb me for the next three hours me lad, alrigh’? And lock up de Fireside, will you, bro?’

  ‘Alrigh’, boss.’ He hung up.

  Jeremy put his glove back on, wiped the phone clean, and put it down. Then he carefully turned the unconscious man over and dragged him onto a sofa, his feet still tied together. He adjusted skull’s head back on the headrest and ran into the bathroom and rushed back with a cold wet face towel. He cleaned the blood on Skull’s head and face and, putting one part of the towel on the bridge of his nose and the other part on the nasty cut on his forehead, applied pressure to stop the bleeding. Two minutes later the nosebleed had stopped, but the cut was still bleeding. He ripped off a bit of a second dry towel, set it over the wound, and dressed the wound by wrapping duct tape from his backpack over the wound and around his bald head. That seemed to do the trick.

  Jeremy paused to assess his handiwork and, on an afterthought, cleaned his DNA off the man’s face with a fresh wet towel and put a length of duct tape across Skull’s mouth also with a small rip in the middle for air. He used the duct tape to tie the man’s hands together in his lap and a ripped up bed-sheet to tie his torso to the chair. He wrapped the rest of the dry towel around his eyes, blindfolding him.