He explained to them that the gun was a Luger and had been found on a beach. “The sand and rain play havoc with the mechanism,” he explained. “It erodes the firing pin. That means it could go off at any moment, either killing someone or tearing their fingers off. Chances are, it would do neither. If you fire a shot, it could just misfire and not hurt anyone, but you can’t take a chance. All guns must be treated with respect. We think we’re their masters, but with a machine that lethal, you can never take that for granted.”
As her reminiscence came to an end, Shelley dared to look up again. The gun the thug held was almost a replica of the one her granddad had owned. It had also been in the sand much longer, and had not been treated with the loving care that her granddad had given his. Dare she take a chance and try to run? As irrational as it seemed, given that he might well try to kill her, she did not want to be responsible for him blowing his hand off. But if the gun misfired, then she might get a head start. Annette and Greenwood were way down on the beach, and she was younger and fitter than the flabby thug. Now she knew the shortcut across the islet, she might be able to outrun them all.
The main problem was that she would be running out in the open. Whilst there were some hills on the islet, the path across the centre was in open countryside. There was no cover anywhere across, apart from the few rocks at the top of the cliff on the eastern side. As she thought about that, she looked up, and amazingly saw Paris, hidden behind one of the rocks. He motioned to her to be quiet and pointed towards the bay. Stopping a cry that almost reached her throat, she stared resolutely at the beach.
Her heart beat even more rapidly. He knew she was in danger. The fact that someone did made her feel much happier. In the distance she saw a faint black speck in the sky, drawing nearer and nearer. It was a helicopter! It swooped over the sea, and towards the beach, where it churned up sand, covering Annette and Greenwood, so that they could not see. The thug jumped up, and for a horrible moment, Shelley thought he might shoot her. Instead, he made a run for it up the cliff, as if the hounds of hell were behind him. He got to the top, when a hand reached out and smacked him on the nose. The thug fell back a few feet, then raised the gun, and fired. Shelley screamed, but instead of the gun hitting Paris, it blew apart in the man’s hand. Just as her granddad had said it would.
“Thank you, Granddad,” she said, vowing to give him a huge hug when next she saw him.
The helicopter dropped a ladder, which Shelley realised with some alarm that she was supposed to climb up. She had never done anything like it in her life before, but she grabbed the ladder and, her shoulders aching with the strain, pulled herself up. She was aware of the chopper moving towards the top of the cliff, and a sudden tugging on the ladder. At first she thought it was the thug, but to her relief it was Paris. He shouted above the roar of the chopper, “Darling, don’t climb, just hang on. It will take us to the farmhouse!”
It was the scariest, yet most exhilarating ride Shelley had ever had, flying over the countryside, clinging to the ladder for dear life.
Eventually, the helicopter hovered low enough for both Paris and Shelley to alight. As soon as they were on the ground, she flew into his arms. “Paris, I’m so sorry, I thought …”
To her delight he hugged her back just as enthusiastically. “Darling, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I’m just glad you’re safe. The ferryman came to me. He said that even though his English isn’t very good, he knew Annette had lied to you. It was an old man who got on the ferry the other day.” He kissed her. “Come on, we need to get inside.” He took her hand and they ran the last few yards to the farmhouse.
The helicopter had landed in a field to the side of the farmhouse, and a good-looking young man of about Paris’s age jumped out, and ran to them. As soon as they were all inside, Paris slammed the farmhouse door shut and bolted it.
“Thanks Dmitri,” said Paris, holding out his hand. “I owe you one.”
“You are welcome, my friend,” said Dmitri. “The police are on their way by boat. They say to keep everyone inside until they get here.”
Paris nodded, and they all went through to the sun lounge, where everyone was sitting looking tense and worried.
“Don’t worry,” Len was saying to June. “I’ve been in worse situations than this.” For the first time since Shelley had met him, he did not sound like he was posturing, but making a real effort to put her mind at rest. “It’s odd about Annette stealing all the mobile phone chargers. Luckily they’re all charging up again now.” His own mobile phone was in his hand, but attached by a wire to a wall socket. “I wonder what their plans were.”
“Probably to leave us without means of contacting the mainland, whilst they escaped,” said Shelley. “They’d have probably cut the landline wires too.” Everyone turned and smiled at her, and for a moment she felt the warm glow of people who cared about her welfare.
To Shelley’s utter surprise, Mrs Caldicott ran to her, enfolding her in caring arms. “I’m so glad you’re safe, dear,” she said. “It’s all our fault. We should have …”
“Believed me? Oh, don’t worry. With Stefan disappearing like that, I began to doubt myself.” Shelley laughed. But deep down she still felt the pain of their disbelief.
Mrs Caldicott and Paris exchanged awkward glances. “No, not that, Shelley,” said Paris, his voice strained. “We knew about Stefan all along. Or at least mum did.”
“Mum?” Shelley’s head was in a whirl. They had known? And what on earth did Paris’s mum have to do with it?
“I’m Paris’s mother,” said Mrs Caldicott. “My real name is Rachel Georgiadis. Minnie and I have spent many years tracking down treasure stolen by the Nazis. To return it to its rightful owners, I hasten to add, or if not that to at least give it to someone who can do good works with it. That was how I met Paris’s father, nearly forty years ago. When we were investigating the loss of the rubies from the church here. We’ve never found them, by the way. It was something of a coincidence when we learned a few months ago that a rival team, not so interested in returning the loot, were also planning to come here and look for the Saint George rubies. We only came to keep an eye on them, and had no idea things would get so out of hand.”
“Just a minute,” said Shelley, her temper rising. She glared at Paris. “You knew all along I was telling the truth?”
“Yes, but darling…”
“Don’t but darling me,” said Shelley, tears stinging her eyes. “I …” She floundered, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. “I can’t believe you did that, knowing how…” She ducked his outstretched arms, and moved to the other side of the room, where she fought to regain composure.
“We don’t really have time for this,” said Rachel Georgiadis. “I imagine Annette and her people will be along very soon. If we could get down to the ferry, we might be able to get away, but I don’t know if there’s enough time.”
“They’ve got a gun,” said Paris.
“It’s an old one,” said Shelley, sounding like an automaton even to herself. She ignored Paris’s entreating glance. “A Luger. The firing pin has eroded in the sand. As far as I know, it’s the only weapon they have. But just because it failed once, doesn’t mean it will again. I don’t know how many bullets is in it.” Shelley looked around the room, it just having occurred to her that someone was missing. “Where’s Yaya?”
“Yaya?” Paris looked around too. “I don’t know. Mum?”
“I haven’t seen her for a while,” said Rachel. “I thought she came with us.”
“She went to sort out some food for us all,” said Len. “But that was a while ago.”
“You must find her,” said Shelley. “Before they do. She knows where the rubies are.”
Rachel, Minnie and Paris exchanged glances.
“Does she?”
“Yes, she’s been cleverer than anyone,” said Shelley. “Pretending to lose her memory was a way of keeping them safe. In fact, they’re exactly where they need to be, in
the absence of there being a church on the islet anymore. But if they get hold of her …”
Just as Shelley said that, someone outside shouted. Everyone ran to the window, forgetting for a moment that there was weapon involved.
Annette, Greenwood and their men stood in a semi circle on the terrace. The thug who had watched Shelley was clutching his hand, which was wrapped in a makeshift bandage that appeared to have been torn from his tee shirt. Between them, was Yaya, standing proud and erect, despite her great age and the fact that Greenwood had the Luger pointed at her head. Even if it misfired it would injure Yaya, perhaps fatally.
Shelley put her hand on the latch of the French door leading to the terrace.
“Shelley, what are you doing?” said Paris.
“I’m going to tell them where the rubies are.”
“What, are you on their side or something?”
“No, I’m not,” she said, turning on him, her eyes flashing angrily. “I’m on Yaya’s side. Tony stole everything from me. My house, my bank account, even the twenty pounds I kept in a jar for when I ran out of bread in the middle of the week. But I’m still alive. And what that makes me realise is that money, the rubies, they’re not worth anything if it means someone dies. They’ve already cost Stefan’s father his life. And almost cost Yaya hers when she was shot in the head all those years ago. How many more lives have to be lost over those damn rubies? Len,” Shelley ran across to the old policeman and to his obvious surprise and delight hugged him. “It’s been so good knowing you, Len. I hope we meet again one day.”
She went back to the window. “I’ll take Yaya’s place,” she said.
“No, it’s a lousy idea,” said Paris. “I won’t let you do this. If you take the ferry, they’ve got an hour in which they can torture you for the information, then throw you over the side.”
“I can handle them. I can keep them talking. They do like a chat, all of them. ”
“You don’t know if that will work. Look, I think your instincts about them might be a little off here.”
“Don’t you dare tell me about my instincts, when you lied to me about them before,” she hissed, ignoring the shocked expressions in the room. “It seems to me my instincts are pretty good. Your ethics on the other hand leave a lot to be desired.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Tony only stole my money,” she said, the tears she had tried to halt, filling her eyes. “You … you tried to steal my sanity. Tried to get me to believe I was imagining things. Given the job you do, working with vulnerable people, I’d say that was pretty unethical.”
Paris stood back, as if he had been slapped. His tanned skin turned pale. “Then I’ll just keep out of it,” he said, his face a mask of pain.
“Yes, do that. You’ve caused enough damage already with your secrets.”
Shelley, fighting with all her might to resist the urge to hold him and tell him she was sorry, opened the French doors, and went out into the terrace. “I know where the rubies are,” she said to Greenwood. “Let Yaya go and I’ll take you to them.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve worked it out. You could have if you’d been a bit smarter. It would have saved you a week of digging at the very least.”
“Just tell us and we’ll go there.”
“No, you have to take me with you. I … I want in,” said Shelley. “I lost a lot of money because of a man, and I need it back. So you take me with you, cut me in, or I don’t tell you.” She tried not to imagine the horrified faces in the window behind her, and concentrated on fixing her face with the expression that Tony had always used when he lied most convincingly to her.
The door was still open, so the people in the farmhouse could hear everything she said, which made her feel ashamed of her behaviour. She dare not look back, or it would weaken her resolve. She told herself that it did not matter what Paris thought of her anymore. But deep down it did. As furious as she was with him, she wanted his approval.
Annette turned to Greenwood. “She’s telling the truth about that. Some bloke took her for everything she had.”
“What about her feelings for Paris?” asked Greenwood.
“What?” said Shelley. “We had a bit of a kiss and a dance and he’s supposed to be the love of my life? Hardly. Besides, he lied to me about Stefan. They knew the old guy had been here all along, and yet led me to believe I was imagining it. Even if I had feelings for him, which I don’t, that fact alone would kill them completely. I want money. I want my life and my house and my bank account back. The best way to do that is to cut in on the rubies.” She looked at Greenwood levelly.
All the time she was talking, she was aware of Yaya looking at her with a level gaze. It proved to her that Yaya understood much more than she ever let on, including quite a bit of English. “So,” said Shelley, “Are you going to let the old woman go or not?”
“Yes, okay.” Greenwood pushed Yaya forward. As Yaya drew level with her, Shelley was sure she heard her whisper, ‘You are a brave girl.”
Whether she had said it or not, it fortified Shelley for the task in hand.
Greenwood pointed the gun at Shelley and gestured her towards the road at the side of the farmhouse.
“Aren’t we going by ferry?”
“What? And give them an hour to catch up with us,” said Greenwood. “No, we’ll take the chopper.”
“Can you fly one?” asked Shelley, feeling more than a little worried for her life. She shoved her hand into the pocket of her Capri pants. Things were not quite going as she planned.
“Well, yes, otherwise I wouldn’t suggest it,” he said, grinning. “Come on.”
“You mean you’re going to trust her,” said Annette. “She’s a good girl.” It was said in a sneering way, as though being good were a weakness. “There’s no way she’d get involved with anything like this.”
“I don’t trust her. Not as far as I can throw her,” said Greenwood. “But I do believe she knows where the rubies are. And if she doesn’t, then I bet the boyfriend will give them up for her.” He turned to his henchmen. “You three will have to take the ferry. There’s no room in the chopper for us all.”
Chapter Eleven
It was with some trepidation that Shelley sat in the chopper whilst it took off. Greenwood may well have flown one before, but he wasn’t very good at it. It took him some time to get the engine going, then when he had managed that, the chopper swooped and swerved as he got it into the air.
Because he and Annette were concentrating so hard on keeping the chopper in the air, they did not see what Shelley saw. Which was everyone from the farmhouse running towards the three remaining henchmen, who had not yet reached the jetty, bearing all manner of brooms, pitchforks and other garden implements, with the feisty Yaya leading them into the fray. She noted, with relief, that Greenwood had given the Luger to Annette, who held it in her lap, meaning the goons were unarmed and vastly outnumbered.
It took them a fraction of the time to get to the mainland, than it would have in the ferry, which meant that Shelley had at least three quarters of an hour to kill before help came. They may well have contacted the police, but no one knew where she was going, and she was not prepared to give those details yet. She had one more bargain to make with Greenwood.
They landed in a field, just outside the town, and walked towards the centre. The hot sun shone on her head, and she felt her bare shoulders started to burn. “I want Stefan to meet us,” said Shelley.
“No,” said Greenwood. “It’s out of the question. If you’re trying to stall us, lass, you can forget it.”
“You bring Stefan and show me he’s safe or I won’t tell you where the rubies are. Simple as that. Tell whoever is caring for him to meet us at the museum.” She gave Greenwood the name of the street in which the museum was situated.
“I know where it is,” he said. “We went there when we were researching this job.”
“How do you know w
e haven’t killed him?” asked Annette, smirking. Shelley measured her words carefully. Of them all, she felt that Annette probably was the most dangerous. The female of the species and all that.
“Because, I don’t believe you’re killers. Your goon was an idiot, who shot the gun by mistake. You could have killed me as soon as I realised your plans, but you didn’t. You could have got the information out of Yaya, but you didn’t. You could have forced me to tell you where the rubies were then dropped me out of the helicopter, but you didn’t. You’re not very nice people, but as far as I know, the only person injured in all of this was your thug when accidentally shot at Paris. So I think that whilst you want riches, you’d rather it didn’t bring a murder charge upon your heads. You might even think there’s something romantic about the treasure hunting. I must admit I can see your point, except that despite you not having killed anyone, people have died for these rubies. Or if not this, then Nazi loot very much like it.”
“You’re a very clever lass,” said Greenwood, looking her up and down appreciatively. “Pity you won’t really be joining us. I never truly believed you would. Still, it would have been nice to have you along for the ride. You’re quite a plausible liar for folk who don’t know liars as well as I do. And you’re young and pretty. Annette is getting past the age of being a femme fatale. You could open a lot of doors for us.”
Annette scowled.
“Bring Stefan to the museum and I’ll tell you where the rubies are,” said Shelley.
Greenwood made a phone call, after which they all walked to the museum. They had been there about ten minutes when one of Greenwood’s men arrived, walking alongside Stefan. The old man looked to be in reasonable shape. Shelley ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.
“Fraulein,” he said, sounding tired. “It is good to see you again.”
The Secret of Helena's Bay Page 8