Saving Tara Goodwin (Mystery Book 1)

by Richard Harrington

  Lucinda groaned, ‘Oh god, what have I started?’

  ‘I come you. Yes?’

  ‘No Luigi, I must be alone for a while. So please go away.’

  He stepped forward, eyes pleading, swallowing hard, ‘But madam, I love you.’

  Frowning, she quickly glanced around but thankfully there was no-one to be seen.

  ‘Now listen, what time do you finish? What time do you finish work?’

  He thought for a moment, ‘Work? Finish? Yes, is six o’clock.’

  ‘Alright. So come to my room at six, comprende, my room, six o’clock.’

  He smiled and sagged with relief, ‘Si. I come. Is good, yes?’

  She sighed, ‘Yes. Okay. Now for god’s sake go away before someone sees us.’

  With Luigi having returned to the hotel, Lucinda stormed off into town.

  Bloody hell …

  She’d only meant to have some fun, but now she’d woken the lover inside the boy, and he obviously wanted more.

  She should have known better, but couldn’t resist being the first woman to have him.

  It was a complication, and though his seduction was exciting, what if anyone found out?

  Jesus, he was only sixteen.

  Pushing the problem to the back of her mind, she began to wander around, and as she explored the nooks and crannies, her eye was caught by a little restaurant that specialised in fresh seafood, so she reserved a table for eight o’clock.

  Walking past the Mermaid pub, the sounds of laughter came out through the windows, and the wild, uninhibited enjoyment seemed to become strangely mixed with the sound of her brand new sandals, slapping on the cobble stones, and the mixing of sounds reminded her that life on these islands might just as well be a parallel universe - because she wasn’t here to sing, to play music and drink too much - she was here to kill.

  So why was that? It was such a mystery.

  Wandering along the jutting quay she heard waves breaking against the sea wall, and it was a sound she loved, the sound of freedom.

  Stopping to read the sailing times, she saw the names of the launches that could carry her away to all the other magical islands, and it wasn’t the spray of the wind and sea that made her dark eyes so wet and misty - it was tears.

  Looking around the harbour, she saw sailboats, cabin cruisers and launches, but there was nothing the size of Polyvotis, so maybe the larger vessels were anchored elsewhere, maybe out in deeper water, but where?

  Thinking back to the colour map of the Scilly’s, she remembered being surprised there were so many islands, so searching for Polyvotis could be like looking for a needle in a scattered haystack, but then she saw a man in well-worn overalls hurrying towards her along the quay.

  ‘Excuse me. I’m looking for my friends, they’re on a yacht, but I can’t find them.’

  The man didn’t seem to want to stop, ‘Sorry love, can’t help you, I’m late already.’

  ‘Oh please. I’d be very grateful, you see I don’t know where to look.’

  He faltered, ‘A yacht, you say. Well your best bet is to ask at the Harbour Master’s office, it’s just along the quay, but they’re closed now, so come back in the morning.’

  It was a setback, but she supposed tomorrow would do, and anyway, it was six o’clock and the boy would be waiting.

  It was a nuisance, but wandering back, wondered if it might be possible to guide his passion against the honourable Mr Lewis, and if she could, it would save her the trouble.

  As Frank made off along the Garrison trail, he practised with the catapult on head height targets, the brute force and accuracy never failing to surprise him, each shot being perfect, and reaching a granite archway, fired the last of his trial ball bearings, and saw the solid granite had actually been slightly chipped, and no man’s head was as hard as granite.

  Walking into town, he made his way along the town beach to a surfing shop, and bought a black wetsuit, a pair of top class flippers, a rubber helmet, good quality snorkel and an anti-glare face mask.

  Later, in the Atlantic Inn, he bought a pint of Guinness and went out onto the terrace, and watching the sun sink to the horizon, wondered if he’d forgotten anything, but it was too late now.

  Finishing his pint, he strolled along to Porthcressa Beach, and buying fish and chips from the trailer, strolled back through the town to Garrison Hill, and passing by the hotel, wondered what he might be doing at this time tomorrow night.

  But never mind, tomorrow would have to take care of itself.

  So he would have a good night’s rest up on the grassy ledge, and in the morning, wake early, sort out his kit, pack the day sack and leave the Bergen safely hidden on the ledge, then make his way down to the quay and buy his ticket for Tresco.

  It was as easy as falling off a log, so what could go wrong with that?

  Lucinda had hardly tossed her bag onto the bed when a soft urgent tapping came on her door, and with a knowing smile, called out, ‘Come in, the door’s open.’

  Watching, she saw the door gently open, and peering inside was a nervous but highly excited, olive skinned young boy.

  ‘Hello Luigi. So you remembered.’

  Stepping inside, he closed the door, and smiling awkwardly, swallowed hard.

  ‘Si madam, I understood, six o’clock. So is okay? Yes?’

  She smiled, ‘Well I suppose that would depend on what you want.’

  Frowning, he struggled to understand the words, ‘Depende? Of me?’

  She sighed … For hadn’t she known all along she would have this young boy, the temptation was just too much, and anyway, he might fit in nicely with her plans, so lifting her tee shirt, she slowly stripped it off, and smiling, unclipped her bra and tossed it away.

  ‘Is this what you want?’

  He stared, but stood perfectly still, all the words he’d practiced now having vanished.

  Slipping off her shorts and knickers, she walked to him, and taking his hands, placed them to her breasts, ‘Is this what you want?’

  He began to chew his lips, his hands frozen, his chest bursting to his heart beat.

  Gently closing his eyes, she made him stand quite still, and taking off his shirt, tugged his shorts and pants down to his ankles, and slipping her arms around him, bounced her soft tummy against his erection.

  ‘Is this what you want?’

  When his eyes opened, they seemed on fire, like coals from a smouldering furnace.

  Taking his hand, she led him over to the bed, and sitting down, laid herself out.

  ‘Is this what you want?’

  In a sudden surge of passion, he lunged down, but she brought her knee up into his chest.

  ‘Oh no, not yet. You must want me so badly you’ll do anything for me.’

  4 8

  The shrieking of the gulls brought Frank awake at seven o’clock, and looking around, saw the day was one of blue skies and sunshine, but on the horizon there was a turbulence of scudding clouds and all the tell-tale signs that a storm was brewing far out to sea.

  So the old sailor was right, and he hoped Polyvotis wasn’t anchored too far out.

  Swimming in a choppy sea with unknown currents could be a dangerous game.

  Making breakfast of pork pies and orange juice, he gazed out to the hazy shoreline of Tresco, and there was only three hours before the ten o’clock boat cast off from St Mary’s.

  Taking the black inflatable bag from the Bergen, he wrapped the brass alarm clock carefully inside the wetsuit and packed it along with the flippers, helmet, mask, catapult and ammunition, then enough money, a torch, food and the binoculars, and satisfied, pushed the Bergen up tight under the ledge.

  Dressed in shorts, tee shirt and strong canvas deck shoes, he took the black bag and scrambled up the steep grassy slope, and climbing over the gun emplacement, started off down Garrison Hill.

  Walking into town, he saw everything was already bustling, and when the aroma of freshly baked Cornish pasties came wafting out from the little c
ake shop, he bought three and a large bottle of fruit juice. After landing on Tresco, he would disappear and stay hidden while he waited for the darkness of night - and then destiny would take its course.

  Sitting by the sea wall, he waited for the ticket office to open, and couldn’t help wondering what his future might be after this time tomorrow.

  Luigi dreamily awoke, and it took a moment to realise he was in madam’s bed, but his happiness soon slipped away when the bad memories came jostling back into his mind.

  Making love with her had been wonderful, but then she had suddenly cried her heart out, and asking why, she’d said her husband was a cruel, jealous man who beat her savagely. That’s why she’d run away to the islands, but now he’d found her, and although she had her pistol under the pillow, she was afraid Luigi might be hurt, so she would have to leave, never see him again, and run away once more.

  For Luigi, it would be unbearable to lose her, and madam loved him, not cruel husband, so he would take pistola, and kill him.

  Turning, he saw she’d been watching him, her bright eyes shining like dark fire, and reaching over, she played with him, but when his erection stiffened, she pulled away.

  ‘No, we mustn’t. You have to go to work or we’ll both be in trouble.’

  He frowned, his emotions churning, ‘Si, work, but no amore?’

  Gazing into his wild eyes, she sighed, ‘Oh, alright. But quickly, there isn’t much time.’

  Spreading her legs, she felt his hard young body, urgently slide down between her thighs.

  ‘Oh boy. Well it didn’t take you long to learn, now did it.’

  He smiled as he mounted her, for he loved this woman more than anything in the world.

  ‘‘Usband not hurt. I kill with pistola. I kill ‘im for you.’

  As he began, her thoughts turned to Polyvotis and the Harbour Master’s Office.

  With the ticket office open, Frank bought a return ticket to Tresco, and now it was only a few short hours before Glenndenning would face retribution, and not only because of the file but the abuse he’d inflicted on little Tara Goodwin.

  Waiting to board the boat, he looked around, and through the milling passengers, saw a tall, beautiful, dark haired woman coming into view along the busy quay, and just for a moment, thought she reminded him of someone, but who could it be?

  Watching her, their eyes met through the crowd before he had to look away and follow the queue of passengers moving down the steps to board the boat.

  Stepping aboard, he settled himself at a seat in the prow, and gazing back up to the high quay, was surprised when standing at the railings was that tall, dark haired woman, and she was coldly staring down, directly into his eyes - and the way she was staring, made him think of that old expression.

  ‘If looks could kill.’

  Casting off, the skipper edged his boat away from the high quay, but Frank couldn’t take his eyes off that woman.

  And now he remembered why she’d seemed so familiar, and yet looked so different without her half-moon, platinum glasses.

  So why was Mrs Sheverill here at St Mary’s on the Isles of Scilly? A pure coincidence?

  Well whatever the reason might be, she was still staring viciously down from the quay and it was too late to find out why.

  Lucinda watched the boat sail away, and asking a passing workman, was told the boat was going to Tresco, and if she wanted to go there as well, she didn’t have much time as the next boat left the quay in fifteen minutes.

  Standing quietly at the railings, she felt confused.

  She had originally assumed that Angela had sent him here for some purpose against her, but now she was beginning to wonder.

  If he was here to catch her out, why had he taken the first boat to Tresco?

  Turning thoughtfully away, she saw the Harbour Master’s office, and with a shrug, walked across the cobbles and stepped inside, and hearing voices from above, began to climb the stairs.

  The Harbour Master’s office was a busy looking room, busy in the way that some rooms which carry responsibility, can appear to be busy even when empty, as this room was.

  Looking around, she saw it was alive with all manner of things, along with a huge map of the islands with trace marks of shipping while the broad window had a commanding view of the wide expanse of the harbour, and it suddenly occurred to her, that here, the Harbour Master had the power of authority, and as she was intending to kill Rattenegger, who was possibly on board Polyvotis, questions in this office might not be a good idea.

  Stepping back out onto the quay, she saw a line of tourists clambering down the steps to a waiting boat, and it made her wonder what Lewis was up to, and seeing a crew member on board, called down to him, ‘Excuse me, but are you going to Tresco?’

  ‘That’s right, but you’d better be quick, we’re leaving soon.’

  ‘But I haven’t got a ticket.’

  ‘Don’t worry, you can pay on board.’

  Checking her bag, she saw her purse, the pistol, miniature camera and binoculars.

  ‘Oh, what the hell. Let’s go for it.’

  Arriving at Tresco, the skipper expertly brought his boat alongside the quay at New Grimsby and Frank let the tourists wander away before stepping ashore, and in no time at all, the area was totally deserted, as if the boat had never arrived.

  Setting off, he followed the path that led along the shore to Cromwell’s Castle, but he wanted to find higher ground because he had no idea where Polyvotis might be, and arriving at the Castle, looked across the narrow channel to Bryher, and realised the small island between, was Hangman Island, which could be useful.

  Turning away, he climbed the path towards the ancient ruin of King Charles’ Castle, but there were tourists everywhere, so he struck off north to a place called Gun Hill, where it was said that just about everything could be seen, and he hoped it would include the yacht, Polyvotis.

  Following the high path through the rock strewn landscape, more and more of New Grimsby Sound became revealed, and quite suddenly, he saw a large and beautiful, four masted sailing ship basking in the sunshine, and then the rocky expanse of Gun Hill came into view.

  Looking around, he quickly realised that the rugged terrain was against him, for although it was perfect to keep an eye on Polyvotis, the weather beaten rocks stood out bare as they fell to the water’s edge and there seemed nowhere at all to hide.

  Taking the binoculars, he looked more closely, and not too far below him, saw an outcrop of jagged rock, and although it wasn’t large, it might be just enough.

  Clambering down over the rocks, he found that by lying beneath the jutting edge, he could watch Polyvotis without being easily seen, and laying the binoculars on the bag, took the time and care to memorise every nook and cranny of that huge old Barque, because tonight, in the windy, cloudy darkness, he would only get one chance, and this had to go right, the first and only time.

  Lucinda stepped onto the quay at New Grimsby, her senses soon caught by the picturesque tranquillity of everything around her, and just at this moment in time, her chaotic life on the mainland might easily be a million miles away.

  Wandering happily along in the warming sun, she let the throng of passengers melt away, and further on, saw a shop cum café with postcards and all kinds of curiosities, and stepping inside, browsed for a while before ordering a cream cake and coffee, and later, when a woman came round to clean and tidy, asked if there was anywhere here that a large yacht could be anchored.

  ‘Well, my dear, I reckon the best place for a large yacht would be New Grimsby Sound, and if you went up onto Gun Hill, you’d see it all from there.’

  Lucinda smiled, ‘That sounds perfect. But is it far? Will I need a taxi?’

  The woman laughed, ‘Oh you poor thing, there’s no taxis here, not on Tresco, but it’s a nice walk, and it isn’t too far.’

  ‘I see. So how do I get there?’

  ‘Just follow the signpost for the Castles, then take the path to the ruin,
and follow it till it brings you to the headland, that’s Gun Hill, and after you’ve seen what you want, you can carry on round past Gimble Porth and have a nice cup of tea at the hotel.’

  Lucinda was thinking of having several large gin and tonics, and then remembered being told to go to the low water quay, Carn Near, because that’s where the boat left Tresco to get back to St Mary’s.

  ‘Thanks, and how far would it be from the hotel, to the quay at Carn Near.’

  ‘Ah, so you’re going back to St Mary’s, are you. Well, my dear, I’d allow plenty of time ‘cos it’s a good two mile walk, and don’t forget, the last boat leaves the quay at 4.45, so if you don’t want to spend the night here, don’t miss it.’

  But Lucinda didn’t know which boat Lewis might take, which made it awkward.

  ‘Right. So what time does the first boat leave?’

  ‘That’s around 2.15, then there’s another at four o'clock, and the last one at 4.45.’

  ‘Thanks. Well I’d better have my snack and get moving.’

  The air was still and balmy when she walked out and found the signpost to the Castle, and taking a map from the information board, set off with a brisk stride.

  She intended to arrive at the low water quay in time for the first sailing, and whichever boat he took back to St Mary’s, she would follow him, and having found where he was staying, would decide what to do.

  Making her way along the path to the castles, saw the rugged shoreline was almost entirely of boulders, and when Cromwell’s Castle finally came into view, climbed up the rough path that led to the ancient ruins of King Charles Castle.

  Pressing on through the low heather, she came to the wide open expanse of Gun Hill, and looking down, instantly recognised that beautiful four-masted Barque.

  Taking the miniature binoculars, she looked down to Polyvotis, and what she saw, confirmed everything.

  On the deck was the most hideous and revolting woman she had ever seen, a gargantuan creature who seemed to have no feminine attributes whatsoever, in fact, she looked more like the Devil’s spawn.