by Edward Figg
‘Those passes are only good for when she’s tied up in dock Chief Inspector!’ exclaimed Taylor. ‘Once we’re out of harbour they’re useless and my jurisdiction’s only good for one mile out.’
‘Ah… but they don’t know that, do they?’ Carter said, with a sly grin, while fighting to regain his breath.
From somewhere below came a soft rumble, then the deck beneath their feet began to vibrate gently as the ship’s engines sprang into life. The sea beneath the stern began to churn and boil, turning the water to a muddy grey as the two propellers began to turn. The ferry began to slowly move from the raised loading ramp.
Carter looked at Baxter. ‘Now we’ve got rid of them, you better have a bloody good excuse for getting us here. Why do you suspect Harris in on here? Have you seen him?’
‘I think so. I’m bloody sure it was him.’
Carter stared at him and then, in an enquiring voice said. ‘You just ‘think’ so?’
‘Let me explain,’ he said, looking at the rest of them. He took a moment to compose his thoughts then started explaining.
‘As I came back to the walkway a minibus dropped off some Border Security people going over to the other side to start their shift; there were ten of them. Suddenly, another man in uniform, came running over from the departure area and joined them as they were going up the walkway. He was too far away from me to see. The driver of the minibus told me that he’d only had ten. That was the norm. I got a check done and Border Security said only ten were going over, definitely not eleven. That got me thinking.’
Remembering about the uniforms in Harris’s flat, I had a hunch and got Dave to go over to there to see if they were still there. One was missing. Someone had been in the flat since our first visit.’ He paused, waiting for their reactions.
‘So, you’re saying that he went back sometime later and took one of the uniforms?’ said Kirby
‘Yes, but, hang on, bear with me, there’s more. Remember the hair dye? He’s dyed his hair to look exactly like his brother. And if you think about it, the brother would know the whole routine of what goes on here and I bet you any money you like, he’s talked about it to Harris. That was how he planned to slip on board unnoticed. He blended in with the others. No-one would think about checking them. We didn’t, did we?’
‘So, that means we still need to protect Keane then?’ added Penrose.
‘Exactly,’ said Carter. ‘Marcia. You interviewed her, so you know what she looks like. Take Penrose, get up top, see if you can find her. When you do, stay with her. Do not let her out of your sight. Before you do, get rid of those yellow security jackets.’
They removed them and handed them to Carter. He looked around for somewhere to put them. Spotting what looked like a large rubbish bin, and with the intention of picking them up later, he went over to it and popped them in.
‘One more thing,’ said Baxter. ‘I got Jill to check the brother’s passport. Its current and according to passport control, Thomas Harris came through two hours ago, as a foot passenger. It’s my guess that he changed from civvies into the uniform after he got here.’
Carter thought about what Baxter had said. ‘You’re right Ted. With his hair dyed black he’d could easily pass for his brother.’ He made a decision. ‘OK, let’s get up top and look for him. Sergeant Taylor, you check the lounge and café. Ted, Mike. You two do the food court and shops. I’ll check the bar and brasserie. Keep an eye out for those security people. He may still be with them. If you see him, don’t approach. Call us.’
******
After a fruitless search for his quarry in the bar and brasserie, Carter headed out on deck to check out those passengers who preferred the outside air to the inside crowds. He left ‘B’ deck and climbed the stairway to the verandah deck. The wind and sea had picked up dramatically since leaving the shelter of the harbour. As the ferry plunged into the oncoming swell, a fine spray, driven by the wind, was flung high over the bow. He walked the length of the deck studying the faces of the passengers. Some looked rather green.
Walking through the crowded lounge, Kirby suddenly stopped and grabbed Penrose’s sleeve.
‘The couple sitting over by the window,’ she indicated, nodding her head in their direction. ‘That’s her.’ She looked around for an empty table. Spotting one close to the Keane’s, she said, ‘Go grab two coffees and bring them to that table over there.’ She pointed to a table a family was preparing to leave.
She walked over and sat down. A forlorn looking steward, his tray full of dirty cups and plates, stopped and gathered up some empty polystyrene cups and a half-empty coke bottle from the table. He wiped it down with a cloth, gave her a half-hearted smile and moved to the next table.
‘You look a little green,’ said Kirby, when Penrose returned. He deposited the two coffees on the table and sat down.
‘I’m not the best of sailors,’ he said, quietly.
‘And here’s me thinking all you Cornish men were sons of the sea.’ She gave him a sympathetic smile, while her eyes scanned the room. She took a sip of her coffee, then said. 'Better let the boss know we’ve found her.’ She took out her mobile.
‘I came across the replacement shift and had a word with them,’ said Taylor, leaning back on the rail and looking at the other two. ‘Some said they saw the other fellow follow them on board but didn’t think anything of it. Apparently, according to one chap, he went straight into the toilets. They haven’t seen him since.’
‘That sounds like he’s dumped the uniform and changed back into civvies,’ said Carter, bracing himself against a heavy gust of wind that came racing across the open deck. The force of it caused all three of them to turn their backs to it. With the wind, came rain.
‘That’s going to make it a bloody sight harder to find him amongst all the other passengers,’ said Baxter, pulling up the collar of his yellow security jacket.
‘Marcia and Penrose have eyeballed Keane. I’m sure that’s what she said. Her phone was breaking up. So, for the time being, Keane is safe. In the meantime, let’s keep looking. I’ll go and get Penrose to help search. No need for both of them to watch Keane. Marcia can do that.’
Taylor slowly looked from one to other, then questioning them, said. ‘What happens if we haven’t found him by the time we dock?’
Carter answered. ‘We keep bloody looking, that’s what!’
******
‘Aye up!’, said Penrose. ‘She’s on the move!’
They both watched Margarete Keane stand and pick up her handbag from the table. Her husband remained seated, cup in one hand, sandwich in the other. His head bent to a newspaper. He looked up briefly, nodded his head, then went back to the paper.
‘Looks as if she’s off to powder her nose,’ said Kirby, watching Margarete Keane, as she walked away from the table.
‘That’s one place I can’t follow her,’ he said.
‘I’ll get after her but I can’t go inside. She’d spot me.’
‘If she does, just tell her you’re going on holiday. Anyway. To be honest, I think we’re all on a wild goose chase. He’s not on this boat. If he is then, I’ll buy you dinner,’ he promised.
She stood up to go. ‘Just keep an eye out. I won’t be long.’
Keeping a discreet distance, she weaved her way through the crowded lounge, following Keane. She followed her down the passageway where she went through the door marked with the symbol of a female. Kirby continued past the door, walked along the corridor, and stood casually at a window looking out into the darkness of the night.
She watched as passengers wandered back and forth along the corridor, some went into the lounge, braving the weather, others went out onto the brightly lit deck.
As her eyes scanned the constant stream of passing passengers, she suddenly spotted a man walking slowly, coming from the direction of the lounge. For a moment, she lost sight of him after he became surrounded up by a group of passengers heading towards the lounge. At that moment, Margaret Keane came
out of the toilet and turned towards the lounge. She was so intent on rummaging around in her handbag, she didn’t see the man. As he came closer, he saw her. His face showed instant recognition. Not wishing to be seen, he put his hands up to shield his face then turned away.
He was close enough for Kirby to see. Before hiding his face, he looked Kirby straight in the eye. Her heart missed a beat and her stomach knotted. She gripped her hands to her sides. There was a brief moment of panic as she suddenly realised who it was. It was him… it was Harris. He had exchanged the uniform for a pair of jeans, a white jumper and a black anorak. He was also wearing glasses. She couldn’t recall seeing anything in his file about him wearing glasses. He certainly wasn’t wearing any in any of his photos. ‘Must be plain glass,’ she thought, ‘just part of his disguise.’
Instead of going back to lounge, he started walking towards the stairway that led to the lower deck. Penrose? She took out her mobile but when she looked at the display, to her horror, there was none. The battery was dead. Shit, shit, shit. She looked at Harris’s departing back. ‘If I go to the lounge and get Penrose I could lose him.’ She made a quick decision. There was no choice. Concealing herself behind a group of chattering Japanese tourists, she followed Harris.
Chapter 24
Carter slid into the seat opposite Penrose. ‘Where’s Sergeant Kirby?’
‘She followed Margaret Keane to the ladies but she hasn’t come back yet. Keane has.’ He pointed over Carter’s shoulder. ‘That’s her sitting three tables behind you.’
Carter turned in his seat to look. Then he turned back. ‘How long has Keane been back?’
Penrose thought for a moment. ‘Four… maybe five minutes.’
Carter pulled out his mobile, stabbed his finger at her number on the screen, then put it up to his ear. He sat drumming his fingers on the table as he waited for her to answer. It went to voice mail. ‘Where the hell has she got to?’ he said. He called Baxter and then spoke to Taylor.
‘Sergeant Taylor said he thought he saw her a few minutes ago, going down to the car deck! Strange! Why would she be going down there?’ He looked at Penrose. ‘Did she say anything to you?’
‘No sir. Not a thing.’ He gave Carter a concerned look.
******
She watched as Harris disappeared through the doors leading down to the car deck. She waited for him to go through, then followed. She emerged a few minutes later next to a large red semi-trailer. She skirted around it then around the front of another truck. Lanes full of trucks, coaches and cars stretched the full length of the ship. The car deck was like a modern version of Noah’s Ark but instead of being full of four-legged animals this one was full of four-wheeled vehicles; some had even more. As well as the unmistakable smell of salt water, a mixture of petrol and diesel fumes hung in the air. At the far end, the stern’s open deck was brightly illuminated. Out there stood more trucks. There was no sign of Harris.
She kept on searching for Harris as she started to make her way slowly down the line of parked vehicles. Half way to the stern she saw a man walking towards her. She recognised him as one of the crew members that had challenged them earlier. As he approached she said, ‘Have you seen a man come down here in the last ten minutes? Average height, blue jeans, white jumper, black anorak, black hair and glasses?’
‘Yeah. I saw ‘im. He was right down there near the afterdeck. He had a bit of paper in his hand. He was looking at number plates.’
She pulled out her identification and held it out in front of him. ‘I need you to do something for me, it’s very important. I have a colleague up in the lounge sitting at table ten. His name is Penrose, Detective Constable Penrose. Tell him to meet me down here straight away. Is that understood?’
‘Is there a problem? Because if there is, I’ll need to let my boss know. If there is any danger to this ship or passengers, he has to be told. That man, he’s not a terrorist, is he,’ he said, in a concerned voice.
‘No! I assure you, all is fine. There’s no danger. Just please deliver that message at once.’
The man hesitated. For a moment, he looked unsure of what to do. He stared at Kirby, then without saying a word, he walked off.
She set off slowly walking down the middle of the two lanes of cars, her head turning left and right. At the far end, under the stern’s bright lights, sheets of wind-driven rain could be seen blowing across the open deck and bouncing off the two lorries.
Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw someone flit past the last vehicle in the opposite lane, a camper van. Beyond that was the open deck. The wind direction suddenly changed sending an icy blast straight into her face. She stopped briefly, then holding her breath she slowly moved towards the van. Her heart was pumping faster.
Hearing a noise, she turned. He came at her from behind. His fist flew to the side of her face landing hard, knocking her to the deck. With her ears ringing, she laid on the hard deck, dazed. Her vision was blurry. She tried to focus. The side of her face was hot and painful. Groaning from the pain she staggered to her feet and spat blood from her mouth. As she stood up, he grabbed at her, slamming her hard up against the side of the camper van. His fingers found her throat.
‘I know who you are,’ he snarled, spitting out the words. ‘You never saw me but I saw you. I was on my way back. I saw you and your copper mate, the one upstairs, going into the lockup.’ He tightened his grip.
Gasping for air, she brought her knee up hard and sunk it into his groin. He let go. She spun sideways at the same time, jabbing her elbow into his nose. He screamed and doubled over but quickly revived and hit her hard in the stomach. She staggered back, hit the side of the van, then slid down onto to the deck in a crumpled heap.
In her dazed and weakened state, she felt herself being dragged across the deck. She knew she was on the open rear of the car deck because she felt wind and rain on her face. Fear swept through her body. She knew just what he intended to do. Dragging and pulling her to the rail. He was going to throw her over the side. She felt powerless to move. Her body was frozen; her limbs would not respond. She felt like she was drifting on a cloud. Then, in her mind, she thought she heard running feet and voices. ‘Was she mistaken, was someone calling her name? Was someone calling out his name? Is this what death feels like?’ she thought. Then the sounds slowly faded and everything went black.
Harris turned, letting go of Kirby’s limp body the moment Carter yelled out his name. She slid to the deck where she lay, unmoving. He’d had her propped up against the stern rails. One minute later, and he would have tossed her over the side.
‘Harris! I’m Chief Inspector Bob Carter. You’ll need to come with me. Give it up, please? You need medical help.’ He moved towards Harris. The wind was whipping across the top of the waves making white caps fly. The rain hit Carter’s face with stinging force. Salt water whipped up by the wind stung his eyes. Carter looked behind him to see if any of the others had arrived yet. He’d been with Penrose when the deck marshal had passed on the message from Kirby. Carter, sensing danger, told Penrose to call the others and then to follow him down to the car deck.
As the wind chased across the open car deck, the ship rolled heavily to starboard. Harris was momentarily thrown off balance. Grasping the opportunity, Carter raced in, swung hard and hit Harris on the side of the chin. Harris staggered but quickly regained his balance, at the same time pulling something from the pocket of the anorak. What happened next was so fast that Carter had no time to react. Harris quickly thrust his arm out at Carter. He felt a burning pain in his shoulder as something bit into his flesh. In Harris’s hand was a scalpel. Turning to get clear of it, Carter grabbed Harris’s wrist with both hands and twisted. Harris instantly dropped it. Carter deftly kicked it away, sending it skidding across the deck. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he ploughed blow after blow into Harris’s body.
Knocked off balance by the blows, Harris sank to his knees. Both men were now soaked to the skin and fighting for breat
h. Harris scrambled to his feet, wiping the water from his eyes. He rushed at Carter. This time Carter was ready for him and hit him as hard as he could in the kidney. He groaned and doubled over. Battered and bruised Harris straightened up then staggered backwards, one hand holding his side. He stood solid, swaying but refusing to fall. Then, in a superhuman effort, Harris, yelling and screaming, put his head down and running as fast as he could, made one last charge. Carter, exhausted and breathing hard, swaying like a drunk, managed at the last moment to side step Harris’s fast-moving body. Running that fast and being so close to the stern rail, Harris was unable to stop. He misjudged it. His speeding body hit the stern rail with such force that it almost gave way. The momentum did the rest. He seemed to hang in mid-air a moment, then toppled and went straight over the stern into the boiling wake.
Carter moved painfully to the rail and stared down into the churning waters. Harris had gone. Swallowed up by the sea.
He turned back to check on Kirby, then limped over to where Penrose, kneeling beside her, had her propped up against a winch. He was gently wiping the side of her swollen face. He looked up as Carter approached, his eyes were full of concern.
‘I don’t think there’s anything broken.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘You’re going to have a nasty bruise when that swelling goes down,’ he said, looking at her face.
‘Marcia! Going after him on you own. That was a bloody stupid thing to do; brave, but stupid.’ He reached down to her. ‘Come on Penrose! Give me a hand to get her on her feet and up to the aid station.’
‘A'm sairy, marbile was dead. Dinna wanner ooze ‘im.’ she said, trying to talk through half-closed lips. ‘Nother thing ‘enrose!’ she said, as he helped her up. ‘Yer owe me dinner ‘e woz here.’ Her face distorted into a grimace. He wasn’t sure but it might have even been a smile.