Dark Ocean

by Nick Elliott

  By six that night they were more or less done. Besides cleaning up the mess in the living room, they went through the whole house with a fine tooth comb. Computers, external hard-drives, hard-copy files of correspondence and documents going back years; nothing was overlooked. Everything was recorded, placed in plastic bags and receipts issued to the Swiss intelligence officers and copied to Ishi. Gertch’s body was handed over to the Swiss after photos had been taken and DNA swabs collected from his body using an evidence collection kit they’d brought along. Ben Wood supervised the whole operation. Ishi and I stayed close to Carvill and Acton until it was time to leave. I said goodbye to Ishi and invited him to Scotland on behalf of the CMM.

  ‘Very sorry, Angus, but I don’t play golf.’

  ‘Neither do I, Ishi, but we both like whisky. We could drive around visiting some distilleries. Maybe borrow Acton’s Bentley.

  ‘Then of course, I accept,’ he said, laughing.

  Then I asked him how he’d known where to find me.

  ‘I knew you would not accept this case was closed, Angus. And when you drove up here from Greece, you left a trail a mile wide in that old Alfa of yours. Buy a Japanese car: more reliable, less conspicuous. Oh, and we placed a tracker device under the car to make it easier. But good job done. No more trouble from these people now. It is finished.’

  ‘I hope so, Ishi,’ I said wondering why I hadn’t thought to check under the car.

  We piled into a black van provided by the Swiss to take us back to the waiting RAF plane.

  ‘What about my bloody car?’ said Acton as we walked past his Bentley.

  Chapter 40

  The plane jumped about, buffeted by the turbulence created from the erratic air currents which streamed down off the mountains. We laboured out of the valley before turning west and reaching more stable air at our cruising altitude.

  I sat back and let my mind run over the events of the last few weeks since I’d left Mindanao. Was it finished as Ishi had said? What would happen to Carvill and Acton I wondered. They were both handcuffed to steel rings attached by a chain to the foot of their seats. Ben Wood sat beside Carvill and one of the other janitors guarded Acton. I was sitting a few rows back content with my own company.

  After a while Ben got up, stretched and walked back to where I was sitting.

  ‘Carvill’s getting restless. There’s a medic on board. I’ll get something for him.’

  He walked further back to another compartment in the rear of the aircraft returning after a few minutes with a man in civilian clothes. He held a stainless steel kidney tray with a syringe in it. I watched him bend over Carvill. Then he left and Ben took his seat again.

  Exhausted, I slept for the rest of the flight.

  I woke as we were descending towards RAF Northolt. From the window London looked grey and dismal. Before we disembarked an ambulance drew up beside the aircraft steps. Two men boarded with a stretcher and with some difficulty hauled Carvill from his seat and carried him off the plane. I walked up the aisle to where Ben Wood was standing.

  ‘He passed away as I sat there beside him,’ he said. ‘Heart attack I guess.’

  ‘Convenient.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I didn’t reply. Two military police were next to board and escorted Acton off. He was still protesting about his treatment.

  A car was waiting on the tarmac close to the plane, a black Jaguar with darkened windows. The rear passenger door opened as I walked towards it and Claire stepped out in the way Hollywood actresses do when arriving for a premiere.’

  ‘Hello, Angus. Goodness, you look done in. What happened to your head?’

  ‘I hit it off something. Where are we off to?’ I asked getting into the back seat with her.

  ‘Somewhere you can rest and we can deal with things.’

  ‘Carvill died on the flight.’

  ‘Yes, so I heard.’

  ‘Heart attack Ben reckons.’

  ‘I expect so. He never looked particularly healthy.’

  ‘He was given an injection, Claire – a sedative apparently. Then he died.’

  ‘What are you getting at?’

  ‘It just seems a little too expedient.’

  ‘Expedient? What, you think he was murdered?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘They’ll do a post mortem I’m sure.’

  We drove west eventually reaching the Buckinghamshire countryside. Before Amersham, we turned into a private driveway stopping at a lodge where Claire showed her pass to a tough looking man with a military bearing and a moustache to match. The drive led through an avenue of lime trees at the end of which an ugly nineteenth century red brick pile appeared. We were shown into the house by another ex-military type and through to a lounge overlooking the river. Amber Dove got up from her armchair and greeted us.

  ‘Angus, you poor man. You must be exhausted. What have you done to your head? Here, let me pour you tea.’

  ‘What is this place?’ I asked sitting down opposite her and helping myself to the chocolate biscuits.

  ‘Oh, the MoD uses it for various purposes. For us it’s handy, in this particular case, for holding some detailed conversations with the Minister.’

  ‘Interrogation.’ I’d heard about these places. Black site detention centres they were called. Whatever went on here would be deniable.

  ‘It could go on for weeks if not months.’

  ‘I trust he’ll be charged.’

  ‘Why on earth would we want to do that?’

  ‘Because he was at the heart of an international criminal conspiracy committed to overthrowing the established democratic order that we all love and cherish so dearly and with the intent of committing mass murder along the way,’ I said patiently.

  Amber smiled. ‘You do have a way with words, Angus. But he’s more useful to us where he is. We can use him to our advantage. He knows we have sufficient evidence to have him convicted of all sorts of offences including treason. He’d be locked away for the rest of his days. This way he can help us root out any other nasty elements hiding away in the corridors of power. This case is far from over, but you’ve done more than your fair share, I have to say.’

  ‘What will happen to those firms that were victims of hostile takeover by this cabal? There were some big names there.’

  ‘Your friend Ishikawa-san will look after that side of things; in liaison with us of course. It’s a matter of undoing the transactions, which will be complicated to put it mildly.’

  ‘And Carvill?’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘Was he murdered on the plane?’ I asked, holding her eye. ‘Was he injected with something lethal?’

  ‘We really shouldn’t be discussing these things, Angus.’ She hesitated, then leaned over and refilled my cup. ‘Our masters in the MoD were very anxious to avoid any scandal involving one of their senior officers, you understand.’

  ‘You mean they ordered him to be bumped off.’

  ‘Expedient demise they like to call it. For the sake of the nation’s security. Potassium chloride given intravenously causes almost instant cardiac arrest. One gram does the trick but two to be absolutely certain. There, now you have it.’

  ‘You speak as if this is common practice in your profession.’

  ‘Heavens, no. Of course not, not these days anyway. It was different during the Cold War.’

  ‘How can you cover it up? I mean someone needs to do a post-mortem surely.’

  ‘Of course, the great advantage is that because potassium levels shoot up hugely after death, poisoning by potassium chloride is pretty much undiagnosable. He wouldn’t have suffered,’ she added sympathetically.

  ‘Carvill was Acton’s puppet master. That’s the impression I got.’

  ‘Spot on. Carvill was the puppet master all right. He was running Acton, Gertch and, in effect, Dark Ocean too.’

  ‘And you - us, the IMTF?’

  She fidgeted. ‘And that’s why we’re so e
ager to talk to the Minister – at length. We need to get to the bottom of this once and for all. I’m not sure our Vice Admiral colleague would have cooperated. He’d have been a hard nut to crack.’

  ‘But Acton will?’

  ‘Oh, he’ll talk alright.’

  ‘And then? Another expedient demise?’

  ‘We’ll have to see, Angus. Don’t you worry about that. But as long as there are people of the same persuasion as Messrs Carvill and Acton at the heart of our government and our intelligence services, this case will not be completely closed. There are failed states out there with natural resources waiting to be exploited. The seas are still, in many senses, lawless. And look at what’s going on in the South China Sea now. What did you say in Tokyo? Two-hundred billion barrels of oil and up to seven-hundred and fifty trillion cubic feet of natural gas the Chinese estimate. Not to mention the five trillion dollars’ worth of trade passing through every year. If ever there’s trouble brewing somewhere it’s there. But I rather think this case of yours may have calmed matters. They’re still talking of Buddha diplomacy between China and Japan, which is a helpful start.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Something else: would you say that you and Claire got along well in your respective roles?’

  Was this a loaded question? I looked at Claire for a clue but got nothing in return.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ I said.

  ‘Excellent,’ said Amber. ‘Strictly need-to-know, which I deem that you do, we feel so too. But as you will be aware, Claire has micro-managed this case, particularly towards its conclusion. She directed the rescue operation with support from Ishikawa and the Japanese Navy; she persuaded the Japanese and Chinese to work together thus becoming the architect of so-called Buddha diplomacy; she worked with Ben Wood and MI6 to ensure harmony between our two organisations despite old animosities, which is a breath of fresh air I assure you; and with commendable diplomacy, she brought the Americans on side too, just as they were beginning to feel alienated. So she has proved herself a worthy successor to our dear departed friend Alastair.

  ‘That said, it was your own determination throughout that drove the case forward, and then just yesterday, your tenacity that uncovered Carvill and Acton. Very impressive indeed. So on behalf of the MoD, and from me personally, wholehearted congratulations to you both.’

  At this point I’d have thought a bottle of champagne would have been more appropriate than a pot of English Breakfast tea. I looked at Claire who just smiled.

  ‘Now, we’ll get you cleaned up and rested, Angus,’ said Amber Dove in her most matronly manner. ‘Then they’ll be an extensive debriefing. It could take a while, several days anyway.’

  ‘That reminds me, Angus,’ Claire interjected. ‘Susanna Buchan’s been trying to get hold of you. She’s in Ganlanba. The Buddha has been reinstalled at the temple apparently. Nya Wang is expecting you to attend a formal ceremony to mark its return. She seems eager for you to visit too,’ she added.

  I thought of my father’s little Buddha statue. I hadn’t got to the bottom of that. Where had it come from and who had given it to him? Nya Wang had promised to look into its origins. Along with his notebooks, it was the strongest link I had to my family. Perhaps it was time to head for Ganlanba.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Nick Elliott began his career as a boarding agent attending ships in Edinburgh’s port of Leith. He moved to Hong Kong in the seventies and lived throughout the Far East for twenty years before relocating to Greece and eventually back to the UK.

  Married with two daughters, he divides his time between Scotland and Greece.

  Dark Ocean is his second novel, and a standalone sequel to his first, Sea of Gold.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  My thanks to Helen Bleck, my editor; to Peter Flannery and our Scottish Borders Scribblers and Sarah Eakin and members of the Edinburgh Society of Independent Authors, for again sharing their ideas, their views and their own travails; and to Mags Fenner for her eagle-eyed proofreading.

  My thanks also to Doctor Jane Stanford, Claude Carletide, David Gourlay, Rear Admiral (ret’d) Roger Lockwood and Christos Makrialeas for their input on matters within their respective fields of expertise.

  I am indebted to Sterling and Peggy Seagrave for their excellent book, Gold Warriors, for much of the information concerning Golden Lily and the recovery of gold bullion and other treasures after the end of World War II.

  IF YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK

  If you enjoyed reading Dark Ocean I would be very grateful if you would leave a short review on Amazon. Good reviews help other readers find and enjoy a book.

  If you would like to get in touch, please contact me via my website: www.nickelliott.org

  And thanks for buying the book.

  Nick Elliott

  SEA OF GOLD

  160 four and five star reviews on Amazon

  What readers have said about Sea of Gold:

  “Nick Elliott ticks all the boxes in this fast-paced yarn, with a keen eye for descriptive detail and solidly drawn characters. The first-person narrative, complete with ironic internal asides, is the perfect vehicle for a thoughtful and witty style that draws us swiftly into the shoes of its protagonist, a credible and consistent character.”

  ***

  “A unique twist on the spy detective thriller featuring impeccably researched action that is set in a host of well invoked locations. I look forward with intrigue to Angus McKinnon’s further adventures.”

  ***

  “This is a first rate, well-constructed first novel which benefits from the author’s learned insight into the maritime business world and his familiarity with interesting parts of the world. In addition he introduces us to some interesting characters who fortunately survive the tricky circumstances in which they find themselves and who we look forward to meeting again in the sequel(s). I predict a successful future for Nick Elliott who will I feel sure continue to set his stories in fascinating parts of the world. I thoroughly enjoyed this book.”

  ***

  “In the tradition of Eric Ambler, this is a well written crime novel. What starts out as a case of insurance fraud turns into a battle of international intrigue.”

  ***

  “A fascinating and very well-written story in a world I knew nothing about, commercial shipping. If you are a mystery fan, enjoy reading about international intrigue, appreciate well-developed complex characters and are curious about or fascinated by the high seas, this is for you. A powerful first book.”