by Bev Robitai
He’s gone to ground in a secluded holiday home here in the Marlborough Sounds apparently. Rather silly of him, really, seeing as it’s my territory. I’ve got plenty of friends who’ll be only too happy to give me a hand to bring him to justice, so don’t fret about him getting away from you Canadians. I have a cunning plan so sneaky that even your friend Henri would be impressed.
By the way, who was the miserable sod that robbed the school? I want to hear more, send me details. Once I’m done here, a tropical vacation might be just what the doctor ordered.
Big hugs, Robyn”
Sunlight warmed the sparkling waters of Pelorus Sound, sending rippled patterns along the sides of the Angel Lady II as she tugged gently at her anchor.
Colwyn leaned back in his padded leather captain’s chair, closed his one eye, and sighed with satisfaction at his forethought in hiding away a few valuable assets in case of emergency. He’d had a pleasant day’s cruising around some of the nearby islands and had called in at the Portage Hotel for a superb lunch. He’d even been given a crate of fish by some young Maori lads who’d caught more than their limit.
Later on he’d poach the blue cod whole in foil, sprinkled with lime juice and a few herbs, as a first course for his barbecue that night. A delicate Cloudy Hill riesling would go well with them, followed by a good meaty Cab Sav to accompany the steak. And once his new investors had sampled a bottle of Old Coach Lane dessert wine, they’d be putty in his hands, lambs for the slaughter, ripe for the plucking. The phrases rolled through his mind, lulling him into a contented doze as the boat rocked gently on the water.
Once the sun went down behind bush-clad hills he set a course for home, enjoying the feeling of the boat’s powerful engines vibrating beneath his feet. As he neared the private wharf belonging to the holiday home he was renting, he frowned to see a white launch tied up there. Several figures stood waiting at the top of the steps. A sick feeling of dismay spiralled into the pit of his stomach. Then he straightened his shoulders. There was no reason that anybody should be looking for him - he hadn’t done anything provably illegal since he’d arrived back in the country. They were probably just waiting at the wrong wharf, looking for somebody else.
He pulled alongside and made his ropes fast, then bounded up the steps and greeted the men with a smile. ‘Can I help you gentlemen? You look as if you might be lost.’
‘Good evening sir. I’m Geoff Johnson, Fisheries Department - my associates Kevin Walker and Simon Jones. Just a routine inspection, sir. May we take a look on board your boat please?’
Colwyn laughed. ‘Yes, of course - help yourself! Nothing to hide there. I haven’t been out fishing today, just cruising around.’ He followed them back on board via the foredeck, throwing open cupboards and lockers while trying not to show his relief.
‘This is your boat, is it sir?’
‘Yes, that’s right. Bought her a month or so back. Not a bad deal, either.’
‘Has anyone else been on board during your trip today?’ Geoff Johnson noted details on a clipboard while the two other men worked their way towards the cockpit.
‘No, I just thought I’d take her for a spin down the sound, give the engines a bit of a run to charge the batteries, that kind of thing. Nothing that would worry the Fisheries department, I assure you!’
‘Excuse me, Geoff. You might want to take a look at this.’ Simon Jones called into the cabin from up on deck.
Colwyn followed Geoff into the cockpit where the crate of fish was standing on the deck with Kevin Walker was standing over it holding an official-looking measuring stick.
‘Can you explain these fish here, sir? Several of these blue cod are under the regulation size, and you appear to have more than your daily allowable quota as well. Simon, could you empty the crate so that we can get an accurate count please.’
As the crate spilled out onto the deck, eight small rock lobsters lay amongst the fish. Colwyn saw Geoff Johnson’s face harden.
‘Measure those, will you Simon. They are definitely under-sized. And two of them have spear holes in the shell.’
He turned to Colwyn. ‘I must warn you that possession of undersized rock lobsters is an extremely serious offence.’
‘Yes, of course. But I didn’t catch those – I didn’t even know they were in the crate! A group of young guys gave me the fish - said they were over their limit and didn’t want to get in trouble.’ His voice caught and he cleared his throat. ‘They didn’t want to get in trouble with you guys so they gave them away. I had no idea the cod were under-sized, and I would never have accepted the lobsters, believe me.’ He pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face.
‘I understand your predicament, sir, but I’m afraid I’ll still have to take your details, and inform you that an offence of this nature carries a fine likely to exceed $10,000.
Colwyn smiled, putting on his most charming manner.
‘Let’s go into the cabin for a moment, shall we?’ He wanted the chance of a quiet word, away from the younger officers and the damning evidence on the deck.
‘Look, isn’t there any way we can sort this out, Geoff? I’m sure if I can track down the young fellows who gave me the fish they’ll accept full responsibility, and you’ll still get your arrest, as it were. They came from over Lochmara way, in a yellow clinker-built dinghy with an Evinrude on the back. It couldn’t be too hard to find them.’
‘We’ll certainly be on the lookout for them, but you do realise, don’t you sir, that it’s possession of the fish that constitutes an offence, not just catching them. I’m afraid the law has a long arm when it comes to protecting our fisheries from people who think they can take what they want. Now if you’ll just give the boat keys to Mr Jones here, this vessel will be impounded down at the marina pending a court hearing. Should the court find you guilty, the boat and all its contents will be forfeited to the Crown, along with whatever vehicle you used to get to the marina.’
Colwyn felt the blood rush to his face then equally rapidly drain away.
‘OK, Geoff, if that’s how it has to be. I understand that you’re only doing your job. Look, how about I give you the money for the fine now - would that make it all go away? I can give you $10,000 in cash right here and take care of the whole thing.’
The Fisheries Surveillance officer drew in a sharp breath. ‘Be very careful, sir. That sounded suspiciously like a bribe.’
‘No, no!’ Colwyn was beside himself. ‘I just want to do what’s right! If I have to pay the fine, let me pay the damn thing, OK? I’m not suggesting that you’d run off with the money for God’s sake.’
‘I’m very glad to hear it, sir,’ said Geoff implacably. ‘Now I’m asking you to accompany me to our vessel where I can take down your full statement.’
‘Yes, yes, all right! Can you just give me time to gather up my personal belongings? I’ll be there in a moment.’
He needed just a few vital minutes to grab the cash he’d hidden in the cabin’s secret bulkheads and stuff it into his bag, then they could take the boat and be damned. He hadn’t finished paying it off anyway. The cash was the essential thing.
‘I’ll wait here for you, sir.’
Colwyn’s control snapped.
‘Now look! Piss off and wait outside! I told you, I’ll be there in a moment!’ He shoved angrily at Geoff’s chest, trying to push him out of the cabin. ‘Get out, damn you!’
With little effort, Geoff grabbed Colwyn’s arm and twisted it up behind his back.
‘Now you’re being obstructive, sir - and I am empowered to arrest you. That push you just gave me constitutes an assault on an officer and will be viewed extremely seriously by a judge. Let’s go, shall we? You will be transported to Blenheim Police Station where you will be taken into custody pending a full investigation. If found guilty of the assault you are likely to serve a term of up to twelve years. For the breach of fisheries regulations the fine could be up to $250,000 and forfeiture of all associated chattels. Kevin, come
and keep an eye on this gentleman, please. Simon, bring his boat in when you’re ready, OK?’
He marched Colwyn off the Angel Lady II and across the jetty to the Fisheries vessel, sitting him firmly on a bench-seat in the cabin. Kevin sat solidly on the opposite seat, watching him from behind mirrored sunglasses.
The powerful boat wake foamed behind them as Colwyn stared aghast at the receding hull of the Angel Lady II.
His hopes, his dreams, his nest-egg of cash - all were disappearing forever into the twilight of a fading day.
A group of young Maori lads celebrated in the local pub that night, lifting their beer glasses in a salute to the blonde woman at their table. She raised her glass in return.
‘Cheers Matai, and all the rest of you. You did a great job out there today. Ever thought of taking up acting as a career instead of fishing?’ They laughed.
‘Nah, not unless Peter Jackson does a re-make of Moby Dick, eh?’ said Matai with a grin.
‘Don’t forget my contribution,’ said Pete. ‘Those calls to the Fisheries officers didn’t make themselves, you know. You guys could have got caught if I hadn’t sent the inspectors off in the other direction. And the timing for the tip-off on Colwyn was critical too.’
Matai giggled. ‘No worries, mate, you did the business all right. Cheers, Robyn, we got the bastard, eh?’
‘Yeah, guys,’ Robyn chuckled wickedly. ‘We got him GOOD!’
***
END
I hope you enjoyed Robyn’s adventures. For up-to-date news on the latest books, see my Facebook page, ‘Bev Robitai, writer.’ That’s where I post all writing-related snippets and photos, and I’d love you to post comments or ask questions.