Last Out From Roaring Water Bay

by Joe Lane

  Thankfully Morgan lowered his gun. He took the gold ingot from Hamer and examined it thoroughly.

  I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but that would have only exposed my weakness under pressure, so I held my breath a little longer, exhaling slowly through my nostrils.

  Morgan nodded his approval to my demands. I’d won round one. “I hope she’s worthy of your gallantry, Speed. So now will you tell me where the rest of the gold is?”

  “And you shoot us in the back the moment I tell you? Give me some credit, please. Besides, I can’t explain exactly where it is, I can only show you.”

  “Okay, Speed, I’ll accept that. Just remember no funny business or stupidity or the girl dies. So to what destination should we sail?”

  “Head towards Crookhaven. It’s on the other side of the Bay.”

  “The gold’s in Crookhaven?”

  “In and around,” I said, “It’s useless trying to trick me, Morgan. I won’t know where the gold is hidden until I’ve had the chance to cast an eye over the area. I’ve already explained I can only show you where the gold is hidden.”

  Without another word they left us alone. I’d gained a stay of execution without a doubt, but for how long before Hamer came back and shot me. I knew deep down that no matter what I did or say, there was no way either of us would escape death. Just before Morgan left the stockade room, I said to him. “What about Deveron, you can’t just leave the man here to rot.”

  Morgan glanced over his shoulder. “Of course I can. I’ll leave you two to decide which corner you put him in.”

  I gave Morgan the appropriate American middle finger salute and mumbled, “Callous bastard”, as his back disappeared out of sight.

  Shayna turned away from Deveron and wiped her eyes. I put the old mans legs up onto the bed before rigor mortis stiffened his aging bones, covered his body with the shabby blanket and moved away. I wondered how long we had before a body began to smell and attract flies; hopefully not until we’d reached Crookhaven.

  When I looked at Shayna I saw for the first time that she had fear in her eyes which I would never have expected in a million years. I didn’t know what to say to her about Deveron. I’m pretty useless on such delicate matters. I’ve simply never been any good dealing with dead people.

  She said, “I never thought it would end this way.”

  I smiled. “We’re not done for just yet.”

  “How come you’re so calm?”

  I placed the palm of her hand over my pumping heart. “Only on the outside, as you can feel, Shayna. I can’t let these frigging shits think I’m crumbling under the pressure. But while I continue to keep them interested, we keep on living, it’s that simple.”

  “You’ve obviously got something up you sleeve, Shackleton?”

  “Shayna, believe me, I’m playing this minute by minute. All we can do is let fate take its course and see if we can steer it to our advantage.”

  “That’s it? That’s our strategy?”

  “If you hadn’t noticed, Shayna, there are bars of tungsten steel prohibiting us from doing very little else. Besides, according to Morgan, you’re supposed to be the professional. What did he say you were, Canadian Mounted Police? Somehow I just can’t imagine you in a bright red uniform, riding a large horse, in pursuit of the baddies through the snow capped Rockies.”

  “For your information clever-clogs, we wear grey uniforms. The bright red uniforms are for ceremonial occasions and the movie world.”

  “Well sit on my face and smother me to death for getting it wrong!”

  “Give me a break, will you!” She snapped and then sat down on the floor with her back against the bulkhead. “I’m on your side for fucks sake!”

  I sneered. “You weren’t exactly on my side when you kidnapped me and used my body for dart practice.”

  “If I’d have intervened, I’d have blown my cover.” She protested.

  “It still hurts in places. Which reminds me, when I catch up with your buddies, that spotty fucker is destined for my boot up his arse and his darts rammed down his throat sideways.”

  “You shouldn’t have been at McClusky’s in the first place.”

  “I was conned to go there.”

  “You’re lucky I was there to protect you or you may have ended up floating in the River Thames.”

  “Well thanks for nothing. And that includes my captivity in terrorist hands and the abuse I was put though. And I might add, taking advantage of my weakened state by someone not too far away.”

  “You’re still complaining?”

  “Did it mean anything?”

  “No, not at the time it didn’t”

  “I thought I’d ask.”

  “Look at it from my point of view. I’d spent two fucking years undercover, acting like a dyke to convince my so called brothers-in-arms I’m not theirs to touch, and then you came along and gave me an excuse to release my sexual frustrations. I couldn’t resist the opportunity. I’m sorry that I used you.”

  “You took a chance. What if they’d sneaked back and caught you unawares?”

  “I made it happen quick. No point in wasting time to get satisfaction.”

  “And that’s it; you used me?”

  “What did you want at the time, a fucking love song whispered in your ear? Can we give this entire verbal fighting a miss?”

  “Frigging hell, I’m being totally selfish and dis respectful over the loss of your grandfather. I’m sorry, okay?”

  Her red eyes glanced at Deveron then back to mine. “I’ve a confession to make.”

  I gave her my most intriguing look of suspicion. “It’s bit late for confessions all of a sudden.”

  “Deveron isn’t my Grandfather.”

  I frowned. I’d been suckered again. “You’re a bag of twisted laughs, Shayna!”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “He was convinced you were. Frigging hell, you had us both fooled.”

  “It takes years of practice to lie through your teeth.”

  “I totally agree. I’ve been practicing the art for years but you’ll always beat me hands down.”

  “I’m ashamed to admit we used Deveron to set up an elaborate ploy to get me inside the Irish organizations that were receiving weapons from unknown gunrunners. Using Deveron was necessary to convince the right people of my allegiance to the Irish problems, to dispense of any suspicion towards me. It wasn’t easy to convince paranoid terrorists of my loyalty. Mind you, when Deveron confessed to me his involvement in the IRA in his youth, it came as quite a shock. And then you appeared and the whole operation exploded in my face. My two years of lies, deceit and hanging about with a bunch of fanatical hand shaggers, in an attempt to expose the British connection, went right out of the window. The moment you emerged into the affray with your glorified metal detector, every goddamn thing stopped. We’d have had McClusky. He’d have talked like a canary; pointed us in the right direction towards Morgan and his merry Russian gangsters.”

  “There’s no guarantee he would have talked.”

  “To save his own skin he would have. It was treason he was committing. Bet you didn’t know this ship is bulging with weaponry destined for numerous Irish groups?”

  “Frigging hell, Shayna, you’re a real dark horse with a carrot shoved up your arse instead of in front of your nose. The only sense I can make of your existence is you’re on the good side of the law masquerading as a murdering misfit. And as for damaging your mission, if you don’t mind, I’ve given you whom I suspect are your devious middlemen in Morgan and Hamer, served up on a plate. Just because you end up in the same cell as me, don’t be in such a hurry to discredit me.”

  “Served up without the trimmings, I’m afraid. I haven’t proven a god damn thing yet, and it’s not looking good for us.”

  “You, Yanks, are always so ungrateful.”

  “Ungrateful Canadian, if you don’t mind. At least have the right nationality.”

  “Whatever! So what was Harris Morgan�
��s involvement on Canadian territory that warranted your elaborate cloak and dagger tactics?”

  “Besides gun running, there’s the cold blooded murder of two Canadian police officers.”

  “It goes deeper then? We were both on a mission of revenge.”

  “That we were, Shackleton.”

  “You never suspected Morgan’s involvement before now?”

  “Not in the beginning. What we had was firsthand knowledge that we were looking for somebody operating behind the protection of the Ministry of Defence in London. We had no idea of the persons rank, position, authority or department. We’d nothing. No jack shit! It could have been even the British Prime Minister for all we knew. The best way to find the seller was to follow the buyers.”

  “So you latched onto Big Nose?”

  Shayna frowned. “Big Nose?” She suddenly clicked who I meant. “Jennings, you’re referring to; the jumped-up Brigadier of the EFF-Eire’s Freedom Fighters. Forget them, they’re history. They were all arrested two days ago for inciting acts of terrorism.”

  “What a pity. I intended to pay them a visit before I left Ireland. Go on.”

  “We knew the Russian Mafia was smuggling weapons into Canada and then into America. From there our intelligence suspected the receivers of those weapons had a British connection and the possible involvement of Whitehall officials. Naturally we couldn’t cause a stink with the British government because we didn’t know who we could trust. And we didn’t have sufficient evidence to pass on to British Intelligence. We only needed a name and we would have been up and running.

  “The gunrunners were cunning in their use of varied routes; most were hard to follow and we failed on numerous occasions to catch them. Gathered intelligence directed us to the shores of Ireland and the weapons were destined for the developing terrorist groups who were stockpiling, hence Jennings and his gang. Along the way we suffered casualties, losing two fine and devoted policemen. Two wasted lives. There was a tremendous strain on manpower after that; facilities stretched beyond control. It was decided that we needed to send in a lone operative to infiltrate one of the Irish factions and then work upwards along the chain to reach the top men. I volunteered.”

  “You were taking a big risk without backup. There’s been many undercover operatives murdered in the past who were better qualified than you. You lot just don’t know your limitations.”

  “I knew the two police officers that were killed personally. Wild horses wouldn’t have stopped me volunteering.”

  “Commendable of you,” I said. “Obviously you’re not married just dispensable?”

  “I wasn’t expecting a medal. Fortunately we stumbled across Dillon Deveron. He was in the US searching for lost relatives living there. He was the perfect choice to give me the cover I required to infiltrate a faction within Ireland. Everything was going to plan and I was confident we were closing in on the gunrunning ring leaders. And then Deveron heard about you and the Spitfire and there was no stopping him. He told me everything he had done during the war and that he wanted to put things right. He was extremely repentant.”

  “You should have had him arrested instead, you might have saved his life,” I said condemningly. “But if I’m honest, Deveron deserved to die. He had it coming to him when he murdered a war hero on the speculation there was money to finance a war against Britain. No, I’m afraid I’ve little compassion for Deveron. He hasn’t even paid me for my services. Do you realize I’ve been done twice by bad debtors!”

  “You’re heartless, Shackleton Speed.”

  “That’s good coming from the woman who used the poor sod,” I reminded her.

  “It had to be done. The two officers of the Mounted Police deserved justice to be served. I only hope I can finish what I started.”

  “At least we have something in common.”

  “Anyway, Shackleton, you can thank me you’re still alive to even get this far.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “At McClusky’s warehouse, who do you think started the carnage so you could escape?”

  “My brain doesn’t function under the term bedlam. I wasn’t exactly watching. I was trying to survive like every other frigging idiot.”

  “I fired the first shot to cause the mayhem; a diversion.”

  “Frigging hell” You nearly got me killed. I had to shoot some maniac who was shooting at me.”

  “How do you think you got your weapon in the first place, by magic? I was the one who slid it across the floor to your feet. You just reacted to save yourself.”

  “When were you going to confide in me who you really represented?”

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t to be truthful. I rather hoped I’d never see you again.”

  “Don’t you consider that a little bit selfish?”

  “How could I be absolutely certain you were nothing more than just an anti-social militant against authority? Besides, you were a civilian for god’s sake!”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence in my limited abilities.”

  “Don’t be so touchy, Shackleton Speed, you’re proving to be quite a gladiator.”

  We were silenced by the clanging sound of the anchor being raised. Morgan was going for it. I’d taken a tremendous gamble in boarding the vessel and I’d managed to survive so far. Now it was time to bring the entire nightmare to an end one way or the other and not to get killed in the process.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Two armed guards fetched us from our cell and hurried us up on deck. I was a little peeved with their over zealous use of prodding their machine pistols into my back to enforce their powers of persuasion, but it wasn’t the time to register a complaint or even think about retaliation. Things were happening, and happening fast.

  On deck, the beginning of the day was a miserable misty grey, but I calculated that the sun was imminent within the hour. The sea air smelled good especially after being cooped up in the sweat box of a makeshift cell, and Deveron’s body had begun the first stages of decomposing. I suspected Deveron’s remains would soon end up thrown overboard.

  From the ship we boarded a launch. Morgan and Hamer and six more crew were already aboard and all looking as pissed off as I was; not a happy face amongst them despite a possible hoard of gold waiting for them beyond the horizon.

  Morgan gestured us to sit. “Make yourselves comfor table and secure yourselves. I don’t want you falling overboard and drowning at such a crucial part of the exercise.”

  Shayna and I sat astern. She snuggled into me, which was pleasant until I understood her true intentions when she began whispering in my ear. “How long do you estimate we have before they realize there’s no gold?”

  I whispered back. “Who said there was no gold?”

  “I thought the submarine was empty?”

  “It was.” I made a gesture with my finger and thumb indicating a fraction of space. “I was fortunate to find one gold ingot left inside the cavern where I discovered the submarine. While you were attending to Deveron, I showed the ingot to the greedy bastards over there. Hamer drooled over it.”

  “That’s what you threw from the cell? One ingot proves nothing.”

  “It indicated to me that the gold had been moved somewhere else. It’s there to be found.”

  “How can you be positive on a whim?”

  “Call it metal detectorist intuition. We can’t see it, but it’s there somewhere to be exposed and closer than we think. It’s my destiny to find it.”

  Hamer caught us talking. “Shut the fuck up, you two!”

  I said, “We’re flirting with each other you jealous bastard.”

  Hamer scowled and turned away.

  We reached the stone harbour wall at Crookhaven, clamoured out of the launch and up the stone stairway. Morgan had chosen his time well; the place was practically deserted apart from the odd stray cat stopping for a nosey and the inevitable screech of seagulls in search of scraps. It was a pity the quayside pub ‘O’Sullivan’s’ was shut, as being
the condemned man I could have asked for a last glass of beer.

  I led the way up the narrow road, Shayna and I remaining under the close scrutiny of the guards which stifled any chance to make a run for it. In truth I’d no intention of running. What for? I was just as excited to know if I my assumptions were correct as the next villain. I was probably more intrigued than the likes of Morgan or Hamer. In my eyes, finding the gold would be compensation for the amount of effort I’d put into exposing this bunch of murderous criminals, though the rewards I’ll probably never see, but I intended to make sure neither would Morgan or Hamer.

  Morgan said, “Where now, Speed?”

  I pointed in the direction of the stone church in the distance. “Over there, at Saint Brendan’s the Navigator church.”

  I was gambling that this Saint Brendon’s was the place that McCracken was referring to in his journals; it was the term ‘Navigator’ that I’d spotted while driving towards Mizen Fog Station that had put me onto it, and Wandering Willie had said that McCracken sailed across the bay. It had made sense when I put it all together.

  Morgan gave me an incredulous look. He said unconvinced: “Who in their right mind hides gold in such a small building frequently occupied by churchgoers?”

  “McCracken did in 1944. Anyway, Morgan, I don’t know why you’re moaning, I’ve seen bank vaults smaller.”

  Hamer didn’t hang around and he was off in a shot, actually sprinting up the hill towards the church. He moved remarkably well for a fat boy. He also reminded me of a thick dog chasing a stick.

  Morgan said, “Remember, Speed, nothing stupid. One false move and the guards have the order to drop you where you stand. Now lead on and tread carefully; we don’t want any unfortunate hold-ups.”

  We’d reached the small gateway leading to the church and I still hadn’t any form of plan in my mind. I saw that the arched church door had been forced open, the wood split where the lock would have been located. I went inside, eyes scanning as I weighed up the situation. It wasn’t the biggest church I’d ever seen nor was it the smallest. From what I could make out there was no apparent source of electric because all that hung from the ceiling was a candled light fitting and candled wall lights staggered along its length. There were rows of pews down each side with a central aisle of flags leading to the main Alter which was laid with a gold threaded cover and candle sticks on either side.