by Joe Lane
My immediate worry now was the safety of Shamus. I was sure Love and Hate would have clocked the Muff leaving North Harbour and would now go looking for the owner. I didn’t want Shamus meeting either of them in a dark alley and have his death on my conscience. With the boat tightly moored, I handed Shamus a prewritten sizable cheque for his services. His eyes widened as he stared at the figure.
“There’s a problem, Shamus?”
“It’s a huge mistake, Shacks sir.”
“It’s not sufficient to cover the costs?”
“It’s too much.”
“Nonsense, Shamus. You deserve it.”
“But it’s five thousand Euros!”
“And you find that a problem?”
“I don’t feel as if my services deserved that much, Shacks sir?”
“It isn’t a bribe to keep quiet about my ruthless actions, if that’s what you think? It’s your fee and the use of the boat, that’s all. I know I’ve kept you in the dark about certain things that have happened but that was for your own good. The less you know the better.”
Shamus smiled appreciatively. “Yer’ll not have to twist me arm up me back then, Shacks sir.”
“Good. Now get the cheque into your bank as soon as possible before I change my mind.” I told him, sharply. “Now back to serious matters. Keep well away from the harbour; find a nice crowded bar and stay there until I contact you again.”
It was never my intention to inflict fear into him, but it obviously sounded that way to him when he asked, “Why, Shacks sir? We’re safe now. Aren’t we?”
“I wish I could say yes, but I’d be lying.”
“Holy, Mother of Jesus! Who am I to be afraid of, Shacks sir?”
I thought it best to warn him. “Remember the two men racing down the hill at North harbour?”
Shamus nodded.
“They each have a degree in unpleasantness. They hurt people. They enjoy doing it. Until I can conclude what I’ve set out to do, I want to keep you from any harm. Your safest option is to lose yourself among the tourists in the busiest pub. Now go. We’ll meet later.”
I dashed back to hotel and asked at reception if anyone had made enquiries after me.
“Only, Mister Hamer,” he replied thoughtfully.
“What did he want?”
“He didn’t say fully, sir. But he seemed…very agitated.”
“He’s always agitated. It took him a lot of hard years to develop the technique.”
“No, no, Mister Speed. I mean fearful. Yes, I saw fear in his eyes. I think petrified would be a proper description.”
“Did he mention what was bothering him?”
“Not to me, sir.”
“Did he say anything at all?”
“Not to me, sir.”
“Did he leave any messages?”
“No sir. He just asked if I knew of your whereabouts.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t know where you had gone.”
“What did he do next?”
“He left the hotel.”
“What-on his own?”
“Yes, as soon as he had booked out.”
“He booked out?”
“Yes, Mister Speed.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“No, Mister Speed.”
I stepped away from the reception counter thinking deeply. There was something not right here. I couldn’t imagine Hamer being scared that easily. I wondered if he had perhaps clapped eyes on Love and Hate and had gone after them. But why waste time booking out of the hotel? And why hadn’t he left me a note to verify his intentions. Maybe Hamer had done a runner? No, there had to be something more sinister to scare him; something more disconcerting then the likes of a couple of murdering cowards.
I said to reception, “If Mister Hamer returns, don’t hesitate to ring my room. If anyone else arrives asking for me, tell the inquisitive person I’m out. Then inform me straightaway. No delays whatsoever. Okay?”
“I will, Mister Speed.”
I raced up the stairs to my room not knowing what to expect in the next few hours. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do either or which direction I should take to avoid any surprises, but I was about to get a surprise whether I wanted one or not.
The moment I slid the electronic key through the door mechanism I sensed or rather I smelled I had company. The fragrance from inside confirmed the human presence but it was nothing for me to worry over. Closing the door, I said, “Took your time getting here considering you left Deveron’s place earlier than me.”
Shayna was sitting in the single armchair with one leg out-stretched over the chair arm in a position of comfort and quaffing a glass of white wine.
“Comfy are you?”
Shayna’s smile had a wicked touch. “Have you missed me, Shackleton?”
“Like a house on fire! Where’s Deveron?”
“Missing him, too?”
“What part of ‘where’s Deveron’ don’t you understand? I’d like to simplify it for you.”
“Ooh touchy-touchy! He’s around sorting things out.”
“I thought he couldn’t get around? That he was dying?”
“He can still walk if it’s required.”
“Well tell the miserable squeaky freak that I’ve found his submarine.”
“Tell him yourself. He’s at the Quality Hotel in Clonikilty. We’d have checked into at closer hotel only everything around here is fully booked because of some regatta.”
“He’s closer than I thought and obviously keen too.”
“He’s very keen,” she said, and then she sprung from her chair, shoved her empty glass into my hand, and said, “Pour me another while I use the bathroom?”
“What happened to please on both accounts?” I said.
“Please-please!” she scoffed and toddled off towards the bathroom door.
That fellow on reception had been right about poetry in motion as I watched her pear shaped bottom, squeezed perfectly inside a pair of tight leather pants, wiggle all the way to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
I shrugged with disappointment and poured two drinks.
Her voice filtered through a slight gap of the door. “Help yourself to a glass.”
“I’m ahead of you,” I said, and drank my wine in one and poured another in quick succession and drank that too to ease the tension building inside me. I could have done with something stronger; dark rum, but I needed to keep a clear head to think straight.
I found myself staring into space lost in thought. Everything was beginning to come together; every piece of the jigsaw fitting perfectly. All the players had congregated either in Baltimore or the surrounding area: Deveron and Shayna, a ship full of unscrupulous villains, along with Love and Hate and me in the middle with my head spinning with uncertainty as to which direction I should take next. What I could be certain about was somebody was still missing from the party, and to induce that somebody I still needed the attraction of the gold to expose the true puppet master; the man they call the ‘Housekeeper’. I felt deep down that he was close.
Shamus had been right when he said I was poking the wasps nest with a short stick and now I had it buzzing with activity and it would be up to me to silence the nuisance once and for all and without being stung. I was beginning to feel the sensation of slow strangulation by the invisible cord tightening around my neck. I glanced to the bathroom door. Once again I wondered how far I could trust Shayna. Then how far should I trust a terrorist?
When she reappeared from the bathroom all my fears of her being a threat to me diminished within seconds. She was naked for starters. No modesty whatsoever. Not an inkling of embarrassment, just that sheer poetry in motion again as she sauntered crossed the room. I could only ogle at the delicate bounce of her breasts and the twitch of her buttocks as she moved. She was certainly one frigging distraction from all my troubles and I wondered if that was a good thing or not. I poured myself another glass
of wine and threw it down my throat. More noticeably, I was struggling to stop the stiffening projectile jerking in the front of my pants.
I said, “Just out of curiosity, how did you get into my room? There’s no forced damage to the door. So which gel-head down at reception let you in? No doubt your charming smile did the trick.”
She lay down on the bed, her legs slightly apart in a deliberate attempt to entice me. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy weakening the toughness of the treasure seeker?”
I ignored her. “I’m still asking.”
“No one let me in. I’m good at bypassing electronic locks.”
“Frigging hell, you don’t happen to work alongside another serial burglar by the name of Hamer?”
“I don’t know anybody called Hamer. Is he a professional too?”
“Even better than you, I should imagine. I’ve had a demonstration from him too.”
“I might ask him to join our organization.”
“Well you can ask him when you meet him.”
“A friend of yours is he?”
“He seems to think so.”
“I gather then he’s not the flavour of the month?”
“To describe him in very few words, I’d say he was the most nosey bastard on this planet. Be extremely careful what you say, he happens to be government property in the form of an M.o.D. policeman and just because you don’t witness him taking down notes, don’t assume he’s missed anything.”
“What is he doing here in Baltimore?”
“Pestering me, I’m afraid.”
“Have you done something wrong?”
“He blames me entirely for digging up the Berkshire Spitfire and for not telling anyone. He wants me to admit it so he can string me up by my bollocks and put me on show to the good people of London. And stop trying to change the subject of illegal entry. How did you manage to squeeze past reception without being noticed?”
“Well it’s not the most difficult of tasks considering men are all of the same mentality. They see something that resembles a bit of an attractive ass and their eyes are like lumps of magnetic material forcibly attracted to the source. So much perversion goes on in the mind of a man that they send themselves dizzy as they try to watch everything in a skirt. I just waited until an attractive woman went one way and I slipped by and took the stairway.”
“It does seem to be an occupational habit concerning the male staff on reception.” I said.
“You going to stand there like a dumb-ass or are you going to take advantage of my vulnerability, like get your kit off and pleasure me senseless, Shackleton. Now would be nice, before we go and talk to Deveron.”
At least with Shayna you know where you stand. There was no need for fumbling hands or whispers of false passion to get inside her knickers. When she wanted sex, she wasn’t afraid to demand that she got it and I’m all for that positive approach. I stripped, instinctively checked my hands were clean and climbed on the bed beside her. I thought I was in for two hours of passion, but little did I know that tragedy was just around the corner.
*
I never reached the point of full sex with Shayna. I had gotten as far as oral sex on her when the sound of an explosion close by interrupted my rhythm. My head shot up from between her legs quicker than a jack-rabbit straining to hear. I twisted and threw my legs over the edge of the bed and rushed to the window and looked out. The harbour was a hue of orange and red. Something jolted my insides to move fast and I started to get dressed.
“Is there trouble?” Shayna asked as she dashed to the bathroom for her clothes.
“That explosion was too close for comfort.”
“I’m coming with you!”
“Please yourself.”
We left the hotel and hurried down to the quay. A large crowd had gathered to observe the spectacle of a boat well ablaze. It had always fascinated me how roaring fires attracted onlookers. That they stand there admiring the flames, and then again, maybe it was their attraction to Hell.
I found Shamus standing at the front of the crowd, his face brightly illuminated by the flames. He had the vacant stare of a man deep in shock after having lost everything he had ever possessed and I could see why. The Muff was on fire!
I pulled him round by his arm to gain his attention. “Frigging hell, Shamus, what happened?”
He remained mesmerized by the fire, staring into the flames, a noticeable tear or two in his eyes. He said, without looking at me. “The Muff, Shacks sir…she just blew up!”
“Frigging hell, Shamus, I can see that. Thank your lucky arse you weren’t on it at the time. Insurance fully up to date, I hope!” I wasn’t deliberately trying to be humorous just glad he was still in one piece.
“The boats replaceable, Shacks sir,” he said with a lump in his throat. “It’s that police chap…Hamer.”
“What’s he after now?”
“No, yer don’t understand, Shacks sir. It’s Hamer!”
I started feeling a little aggrieved with the Irishman. “What about him?”
“He was onboard when it blew-up.”
It took me a few seconds to understand the consequences of what Shamus had just told me. For a moment I was stunned too. All I could do was to scan the burning deck for the shape of a burning body, not that I could see one. I turned to Shamus and said, “Are you absolutely sure he went aboard?”
“I know what I saw, Shacks sir. I found meself a nice comfortable seat by the pub window, as you told me to. I saw Hamer hurrying down to the harbour. I waited a few minutes to see if he was being followed. He wasn’t so I went out to see what he was up to. In the distance I saw him moving about on deck. As I got closer…” He gestured by throwing his hands into the air a huge explosion. “The force of the blast almost knocked me off me feet, it did. Feel me, I’m still shaking.”
I wondered if Shamus had seriously thought about how close he’d come to being killed because this was no freak accident. Hamer must have come down to the harbour searching for me. He paid the price for boarding the Muff at the wrong time and had, probably, triggered off a sensor device. He had suffered the misfortune that was clearly intended for Shamus and me. I should have at least felt some discomfort; some sort of guilt for the way Hamer had died so horrendously. Yet, in a strange kind of way, all I could think of was I’d lost my emergency pull cord to call in backup if I got into even worse trouble than I was in now.
Again I tugged Shamus by the arm. “We’ve got to get out of here and that includes you, Shamus.”
Shamus looked confused. “What about all the mess? What about Hamer?”
I said to him harshly, “What about us, Shamus? That explosion was meant for you and me, and anyone else associated with us. We were fortunate. Hamer wasn’t. We can’t change that now other than to find enough evidence to flush out whoever is responsible. We can’t do that if we offer ourselves as sacrificial lambs to the slaughter. And that will happen if we stay here.”
Shayna backed me up. “He’s right, Shamus, we’re sitting ducks here.”
Shamus looked at me disapprovingly. “Are yer suggesting we run away from our responsibilities?”
“We’ve no other choice. We’re targets and the killers won’t stop until we end up like Hamer.”
“What about the Garda, it won’t take them long to connect the boat to me.”
“True. They’ll probably find a badly burnt body, but they won’t know who it is for a good while. They’ll assume it’s you, Shamus. We can use that time to finish the job.”
Shamus shook his head defiantly. “Sorry, Shacks sir, I can’t do that. I’ll only slow you down. I’ll stay and mingle with the Garda. I should be safe. After all this commotion I don’t think anyone will bother me while the Garda are involved. Don’t worry I’ll drag the story along. Tell them I’ve no idea what happened, just move with their investigation.”
I relented, mainly because I’d little time to lose. “Okay, Shamus, if that’s what you really want to do?”
; “It’s better if I stay.”
“It’s your choice, Shamus. But I promise you, when this is finally over, and if I’m still breathing, I’ll find you a new boat to compensate you for your loss.”
“I can’t let yer do that, Shacks sir.”
“Nonsense, Shamus. I’m as much to blame for the loss of your livelihood. You collect the insurance and I’ll double the cost. Have you got that? I happen to know of someone who’s most willing to cover the expenditure of the entire venture and that includes the price of a new boat.” I turned to Shayna at that point for confirmation. “By the way, where did you say Deveron was staying?”
I expected a verbal barrage from her, but her bemused expression rather told a different story.
I shook Shamus’s hand in gratitude for his com panionship and loyalty and then Shayna and I slipped quietly away from the chaos. I felt badly leaving Shamus behind to deal with the carnage, but I had to be free from involvement regarding the inevitable investigation. In the distance I could hear the sirens of a lone fire engine.
Collecting the Roadster from the hotel car park, Shayna and I left Baltimore and drove away from the inevitable prying questions, and even more significantly, away from the attention of the people aboard the Flying Fish, at least until I was ready to challenge the crew straight on.
It was while we were driving along the road to Clonakilty on our way to meet Deveron at the Quality Hotel, that for some unknown reason, Shayna insisted on telling me, Clonakilty was the birthplace of Michael Collins, the founder of the I.R.A., as if I really cared a frigging toss at the time!
*
Deveron greeted our arrival as if we were long lost friends. “Shayna and Mister Speed, I’m delighted to see you both.”
Shayna jerked her head towards me and said, “Our ‘Boy’s Own’ adventurer here has found your submarine.”
Deveron’s expressed his jubilation. “It’s definitely here…in Ireland?’