Soil (The Last Flotilla Book 2)

Home > Other > Soil (The Last Flotilla Book 2) > Page 6
Soil (The Last Flotilla Book 2) Page 6

by Barnes, Colin F.


  ‘And that’s it? You’re not interested in what I found out?’

  ‘What else is there? He had extra duties assigned to him, and he carried them out. Are you just bothered that your friend Marcus has been made to actually do some work?’

  Eva couldn’t believe how dismissive he was being. Had she done something to piss him off without realising? The hurt struck her in the chest. She swallowed it down, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. ‘There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about. Something Marcus found. Something that could have some bearing on this journey, or what we find.’

  Duncan didn’t even try to hide his disdain at the mention of Graves’ name.

  ‘What?’ she said, getting tired of this.

  ‘He’s so full of shit. Always has been. Even if he’s not the one sabotaging the electrical systems, and of that I’m still not convinced, I still wouldn’t trust anything he’s got to say. So anyway, what has he found?’

  Eva hesitated for a moment, wondering if this was the right time to bring up the coded notes, or if Duncan was the right person to talk to. He wasn’t exactly an impartial observer in this particular moment. But it had to come out at some point, and although she and Duncan were clearly not as close as they had been, she could still trust him.

  ‘It’s some notes. It seems like some spies infiltrated the former crew and they discovered . . . something to do with the government. Tom’s name was mentioned.’

  Duncan scratched at his beard and took this in.

  ‘This is crazy. Spies? And what did they say about Tom?’

  ‘Not much,’ she said, not wanting to give everything away at once.

  ‘Are you sure these are even legit? It’s convenient that Marcus is the one who found them, isn’t it? He always has to be at the centre of everything. He can’t just get on with his duties like the rest of us; he needs to surround himself with some drama or other.’

  ‘I saw them myself,’ Eva added. ‘They are legit. Marcus wouldn’t have had the time to invent them . . .’

  ‘So what? Who’s to say Graves didn’t write them himself and bring them on board?’

  Eva stepped back from Duncan’s bunk, unable to believe how bitter this man had become. ‘So that’s it, then? You know all the truth, and no one else’s opinions matter?’

  ‘Listen, Eva, just get some sleep; we’ll figure it all out tomorrow. We’re all on edge right now.’ He tried to reach out for her. Eva let his hand hover in the air for a moment, then turned her back and left. Her legs shook with each step, frustration and fury conspiring to make her stagger.

  She stepped across the threshold into the hallway and didn’t look back. Duncan didn’t bother to follow her. The cabin door slammed shut with a booming echo. She wandered aft to the mess to get a coffee, but she pulled up short after fifty metres or so. She was at his cabin. It opened before she could reach out for the handle.

  Marcus Graves stood there, his short dark hair freshly combed, his face pink and full of vitality. He held a washcloth in one hand. Blots of grease and smoke stained it.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Good timing. Tom and I just finished fixing the sub-system. Can’t sleep?’

  ‘Something like that,’ she replied. ‘Got time to talk?’

  ‘For you, I’ve always got time, love. Come in, take a pew.’ He stood aside and let her walk through. His dirty clothes had been neatly stacked inside a plastic bag and placed in the corner of his room. The inbuilt basin was half-full with dirty, soapy water. The overhead light reflected off something that sparkled within the bubbles of soap and grime. She bent down lower to inspect but, seeing nothing, realised she was more tired than she thought.

  ‘Tom’s not such a dick when he shuts up and just gets on with things,’ Marcus said in that oddly chipper, cockney accent of his. ‘The damage wasn’t as bad as we first thought. I’m not convinced that whoever did this is blessed in the brain department when it comes to electrics.’

  ‘That’s not good news. It makes the pool of suspects larger,’ she said, explaining the reasoning behind who it might be and the whole episode with Patrice.

  Graves let out a hearty laugh. ‘That poor guy must have been so embarrassed to have been caught with his pants down like that. Not to mention Bernita. You sure know how to bust in at the wrong time.’

  ‘How was I to know? It sounded like a fight going on.’

  ‘You have had sex before, right?’ Graves said with a wicked smile. ‘You do know it can get a little noisy – if done right, of course.’

  ‘I’m not that sheltered. Besides, that little affair doesn’t really bring us any closer to the truth. Assuming Patrice’s alibis do actually check out, there’s nothing else to really go on in the meantime. Not unless you have any ideas. You didn’t find anything while you were doing the repairs, did you?’

  ‘Nah, just the shabbily wrecked system. Took me and Tom hours to get it fixed, but at least the power is routing properly now. We won’t suffocate on our farts now, thankfully.’

  Graves turned his back and drained the basin, before filling it with clean water and rinsing his hands and face. When he was finished, he dried himself on a towel and turned back to face her. ‘You hungry, love? I could eat a horse. Wanna join me in the mess for a bite? We can also have a word in Li Poh’s ear, see if she can back up Patrice’s story about him and Bernita being in the mess together.’

  ‘I thought she wasn’t on duty until the next shift?’

  ‘I saw her in there earlier – some mix-up with Karel.’

  Eva’s stomach growled, answering for her. She was going to remonstrate with him about calling her ‘love’. She’d told him to cut it out a number of times, but it’d had little effect, just like when she used to tell her daughter to stop jumping in puddles after it had rained.

  Some things are just too deeply ingrained to stamp out, so she let it go; she was too tired, and now too hungry, to get into an argument. Besides, she’d be able to knock off one of Patrice’s alibis.

  ‘Sounds like a yes to me,’ Graves said. ‘Come on, let’s go fill our bellies.’ He held his arm out for her dramatically, as though he were a squire leading her into a ball. She batted it away and led them out of the cabin and down the passage towards the mess. Graves sniggered and followed along behind. Without him being able to see, she smiled a little smile to herself. Rogue, gangster, scumbag – these were all legitimate labels for Graves, but there was something about him that managed to defy all logical rationale and make Eva smile, even if grudgingly.

  They entered the mess together. The room had just two tables out: no need for more, given the skeleton crew. It made the area seem much larger than when she had first seen it crammed with tables and chairs knocked over in a tangle of Formica, particleboard, and plastic.

  Tom had told them about the fight that had gone on there between a few surviving crew and the armed and murderous Stanic. It hadn’t lasted long, but it had taken an hour to get the bodies free from the debris when the sub first arrived at the flotilla.

  At least now the mess was being used for its intended purpose.

  The air was damp with steam from the kettles and stoves. The scent of a fishy brew clung to her every breath with a greasy, cloying quality. Underneath the fish soup scent, she made out the delicious bitter aroma of coffee. Instant though it might be, it was still coffee.

  She wove around the table and approached the hatch where Li stood silently, her eyes shadowed by her crudely cut black bob hairstyle. She had a permanent slouch, as though her body was heavier than it looked, despite her fragile, bone-thin figure. She wore an off-white apron around her body, the material marked with a Rorschach of gravy and soup stains.

  Marcus sat down at the small round table, looked down at some apparently interesting detail in the table’s surface. Eva refocused on Li.

  ‘Hi,’ Eva said, smiling, exuding friendliness as though she were trying not to scare off a small rodent that had journeyed outside its nest and realised it was
caught out in the open. ‘How’s it going?’

  Li glanced furtively over Eva’s shoulder towards Graves, who didn’t look their way. Li lowered her chin and looked up at Eva through the asymmetrical fringe that hung limply over her forehead. Her golden skin glistened in the steam and heat. ‘Okay,’ she said.

  The young woman’s voice was like the whisper of a breeze through a narrow gap, her accent heavily clipped so that even the English words sounded like some exotic incantation. ‘I get you something?’ Li said, now with a scintilla more purpose.

  ‘What’s on the menu today?’ Eva asked, flashing another smile, treating the woman like a young child with a secret that Eva wanted to tease out. Too much pressure and she’d retreat into herself, locking down the truth.

  ‘Mash potato with gravy, and fish soup,’ Li said, her voice becoming stronger, more trusting.

  ‘Sounds great,’ Eva replied. ‘I’ll have the potato and gravy, please.’ She turned to Graves. ‘Marcus, what do you want?’

  ‘Soup will be great, thanks, and a couple of coffees?’

  Li muttered something beneath her breath that Eva couldn’t understand and backed farther into the kitchen, out of sight. The sounds of pots and pans clanking against each other rang out. Was Li annoyed by something?

  Eva approached Graves and whispered, ‘You’ve upset her, haven’t you?’

  ‘Of course not,’ he said also hushing his voice. ‘Don’t be so absurd. Since when do I go around upsetting people?’

  ‘Like every day. What did you do?’

  ‘Nothing, I swear, Your Honour!’

  Li appeared with their food. Eva dragged Marcus up to the hatch.

  ‘Thank you,’ Eva said, bowing slightly as she took her bowl of potato and gravy. Graves reached out for his bowl of soup but it slipped from his fingers, tipping forward and spilling the dark contents all down his clean navy blue sweater.

  ‘Fuck’s sake!’ he yelled, jumping back so the rest of the soup sloshed out with a wet splat. The bowl struck the wooden surface of the hatch and crashed to the floor, breaking into a dozen or more pieces.

  Graves just stood there, glaring at Li, who glared back before lowering her eyes and placing the two Styrofoam cups of coffee on the surface. She scurried back into the darkness of the kitchen with a mumble and a hiss.

  ‘Look at the state of me; it’s fuckin’ everywhere,’ Graves said, shouting through the hatch as he grabbed his mug of coffee.

  ‘It’s no big deal,’ Eva said. ‘Calm down. Just get another bowl. You can change your sweater when you get back.’ Eva called out to Li, ‘Do you have a mop back there, Li? I’ll clean this up.’

  The small woman reappeared like a shadow in the darkness and handed Eva a cloth.

  ‘I’ll see you back at my cabin,’ Graves said, his face red with anger. ‘There are a few things we need to discuss.’

  ‘Give me a few minutes here,’ Eva replied. She waited until Marcus had left, then cleared up the shattered bowl and its contents. She handed it all back over to Li, who took it from her with shaking hands.

  ‘I’m sorry about all that,’ Eva said. ‘Listen, I didn’t just come here for some food. I need to ask you a few questions.’

  ‘You’re with him, aren’t you?’ Li said, nodding towards the door.

  The question seemed to have come from nowhere, surprising Eva. ‘Marcus? Of course not. Why’d you think that?’

  ‘I see way he look at you,’ Li said, fussing with the dirty cloth and bowl fragments over the sink at the side of the hatch.

  ‘There’s nothing to it. Look, I’ll ask one question, and I’ll be out of your way. Can you tell me, was Patrice here earlier?’

  She nodded quickly.

  ‘And was he alone?’

  Li’s eyes squinted, her eyebrows twitching closer as she thought. ‘No, he was with Bernita. They were very . . . how you say . . . close?’

  ‘I understand,’ Eva said. ‘Thank you.’

  She said goodbye and headed back to Marcus’s cabin. Although a part of her was pleased that Patrice’s alibi stood up, another part of her was left frustrated; they were now back to the beginning again with regards to who might be the saboteur. And now there was this weirdness between Li and Marcus – she’d have to get to the bottom of that before it developed into a bigger problem.

  When Eva arrived at his cabin, food and coffee in hand, she found Marcus in the process of changing his sweater, pulling a clean one over his shoulders. A network of scars crossed his naked back.

  Marcus spun round and, for the first time in Eva’s experience, showed a hint of embarrassment – or was it shame? He crossed his arms over his chest before reaching out for the coffee. He put on a fake smile and sipped at the cup.

  Eva diverted her attention, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.

  Unsure of what to say, she placed her coffee on the small table next to the bunk and spooned out a portion of potato and gravy. It was warm and delicious; Li had seasoned it with salt and some fish flavouring that gave it a subtle kick. She bit down on something hard, chipping a tooth. She drew in a breath to spit it out, and choked on a piece of potato. Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. She dropped the bowl on the floor, clutching her throat. Her lungs were empty, burning, straining uselessly to pull air past the blockage.

  For a moment, Marcus just stared at her in confusion, and then in an instant he was on his feet, spinning her around so her back was to him. He wrapped his arms around her ribcage, locked his fists, and jerked them back in three rapid thrusts, using the Heimlich manoeuvre to help clear the blockage.

  After a few attempts, Eva finally gave a single hacking cough, and the chunk of potato flew out of her mouth. Marcus put an arm around her shoulders, supporting her as she coughed and regained her breath. Her eyes streamed with tears.

  Suddenly, Duncan’s unmistakable silhouette filled the doorway. He stepped into the light of the room, his face dark with anger.

  In a heaving, raspy voice Eva said, ‘It’s not what it looks like.’

  But it wasn’t enough. Duncan attacked.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  15:04 p.m.

  Duncan’s heavy right hook flew over Eva’s head and caught Marcus full in the face. The impact sent him flying back into the rear wall of the cabin.

  Eva spun on her toes and fell back onto the bunk as Duncan stepped forward and cracked a vicious-looking left uppercut into Marcus’s chest.

  ‘How dare you touch her, you fucking animal!’ Duncan screamed. He stood over the crumpled form of Marcus, who just looked up at him with a sneer. Blood dripped from a cut below his eye, plotting a course down his cheek and onto his chest.

  ‘Stop it!’ Eva yelled. She reached out for Duncan, pulling at his shoulder to end the craziness.

  Enraged, he flung his arm to the side, knocking her back onto the bunk, where she hit the back of her head against the wall panel.

  Marcus scrambled to his knees and head-butted Duncan in the crotch, folding the bigger man over. He grabbed Duncan by his beard, yanking down hard until Duncan fell to the ground where the two men wrestled for dominance, their limbs flailing and curses filling the air.

  ‘Duncan, just stop, you fool!’ Eva had had enough. She pushed herself from the bunk and grabbed Duncan’s right arm as he drew it back ready to drive his fist into Marcus’s face. Eva was too quick for him this time, though. She pulled his arm behind his back and up, wrenching his shoulder socket.

  Duncan cried out and fell to his side, but Eva kept the pressure on until Marcus had got up. With blood dripping down his face and a bruise already beginning to shade his eye, the ex-gangster pulled his foot back, ready to crash it into Duncan’s ribs.

  ‘No,’ Eva said. ‘It’s enough!’

  ‘Then get the hell off me,’ Duncan raged. But Eva leaned on him, using his body weight against him to control his movements – judo moves she had learned on the force to restrain people if they got too violent during arrest.

  ‘You need
to calm down,’ Eva said to Duncan. ‘I don’t know what you think was happening, but whatever it is, you’re wrong. I was choking. Marcus was just helping me.’

  ‘Who do you take me for? A damned fool?’

  ‘At this time, yeah,’ Eva said.

  Marcus took a deep breath and dabbed a shaking hand to his cut face, pulling it away to inspect the blood. Eva expected him to fly into a fury and attack Duncan, but he didn’t; he just wiped his hands on the back of his trousers and laughed.

  ‘You’re such a fool, Duncan. A damned, insecure fool! You’re so obsessed with your own inadequacies that you saw what you wanted to see.’

  Duncan dropped his head. The stained sweater lay on the floor next to the bowl of food that Eva had dropped when she choked. Eva felt his body relax, so she eased the pressure on his arm, but not completely. She hadn’t seen him react like this before and couldn’t trust him not to attack Marcus again.

  Duncan sighed and shrugged Eva off him as he stood. He took a step closer to Marcus. ‘You ever touch her . . . and—’

  ‘And nothing,’ Eva interrupted. ‘I can look out for myself. Who the hell do you think you are? One minute you’re not interested in listening to me, and the next you come barging in here like some animal. And you’ve not even bothered to ask if I’m okay.’

  ‘I . . . Are you okay?’ he asked, sheepishly.

  Eva looked down at the bowl of food she had dropped and noticed there were pieces of what looked like gravel in the potato. Marcus leant down and inspected it. ‘Looks like someone put all that in there on purpose.’

  ‘Why would anyone do that?’ Duncan said, standing over the two of them, looking like some enraged Viking with his beard sticking out at all angles and his cheeks reddened with anger. ‘I could understand if it was aimed at you, Graves, but Eva?’

  ‘You’re not helping,’ Eva said to Duncan. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’

  ‘I came to see about those Russian spy notes – Marcus’s involvement . . .’

  ‘Fine. I’m going to deal with Li Poh. Marcus, give him the notes. You’ll see that they’re legit and not made up. Then we can talk more about them, about this, later.’

 

‹ Prev