by Jennie Finch
‘Stand by to receive a tow,’ boomed a voice, only to be greeted by jeers from the crew.
‘Where was you a couple a minutes ago then?’ yelled Brian. ‘You wasn’t that eager then. Well you bugger off now.’
‘What are you doing?’ gasped Alex. ‘They’ve come to help us.’
‘A big disgrace to need a tow. Don’t count as a finish neither,’ muttered Mick.
‘Reckon we can make it,’ said Chris, looking at Alex hopefully.
‘We is past the Point,’ said Pete. ‘’Tis a straight run in and we’ve got enough time.’
Alex sat up and looked round at the hopeful faces. She felt like total shit but she was damned if it was all to be for nothing.
‘Oh sod it – let’s give it a go. You’re right, we can see the harbour from here.’ She waved to the lifeboat. ‘We want to row in if that’s permitted. No-one’s hurt and the raft’s fine.’ She tried to look confident, ignoring the water sloshing around her ankles.
‘Right, Pete, get us moving again before they realize this side is probably sinking. And everyone, keep you life jackets done up properly. We may need them still.’
The lifeboat backed off a bit and followed them in as the little raft limped home to be greeted by cheers and wild applause from the crowd at the harbour who had had details of the drama relayed to them over the Tannoy.
As they arrived at the harbour wall Alex turned to Brian and held out her hand. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I can almost forgive you for the pike’s head’. Brian shook her hand but screwed up his eyes and said, ‘’Tis no worry. What pike though? I don’t know nothing about no pike’. Before she could answer she was grabbed by Eddie who waded into the sea in his eagerness.
‘Bloody hell, are you all safe? Everyone all right? Alex – what happened?’
Alex hauled herself off what remained of the raft and tramped wearily up the slipway, dragging the remains of her life jacket with her.
‘You tell me Eddie. The whole of my side started to sink. And I thought you’d checked all of these.’ She tossed the useless jacket at him as she headed for Lauren and Sue who were waving at her frantically.
‘I did,’ said Eddie. ‘I checked them all.’ He picked it up and stared at the straps, neatly severed apart from a small frayed strip in the centre and a frown settled on his face. He turned back to the raft and began to supervise the removal from the slipway, trying to keep his jubilant crew from disappearing into the crowds.
Alex made her excuses and got into the car with Sue to go home, trembling now with delayed shock and cold. The whole crew had crowded round the car to see her off, thumping her on the back and wringing her blistered and bruised hand in congratulation. She slumped into the seat and pulled the car rug around her.
‘If I ever agree to anything like that again, do me a favour will you? Take me out and shoot me’.
Chapter Fourteen
Subtlety had not served Derek Johns well. It was all right at the beginning of his scheme to trap Kevin. It had been easy, scaring off all the other elver fishers by tramping like a plodding river warden along the bank in his heavy jacket, torch flashing at random into bushes and behind trees. He could almost hear them fleeing ahead of him, leaving one area unpatrolled and just one patsy to stumble on the body of the Elver Man. He had no qualms about doing away with Peter Smithson. Elver Man was a good little number and he’d had his eye on the business for a while. It was an affront, an outsider coming in and taking the big money away from local boys, but Smithson was strangely difficult to dislodge and most reluctant to disclose his contacts. No, Derek had no regrets about him.
He’d waited, hidden in the shadows until Kevin came shambling into view pushing his pram full of elvers. He knew the lad was a bit slow on the uptake but he couldn’t believe his luck when he got into the front of the van and fell asleep. Derek had come prepared but he stuffed the chloroform-soaked cloth back into a plastic bag and lobbed it into the river where it sank out of sight as the police cars appeared, bumping their way along the unmade road in response to his anonymous tip-off from the village phone box. Derek had melted into the darkness as the police hauled the hapless young man out of the van and bundled him, none too gently, into the back of their vehicle. But how was he to know that dolt Brian Morris was fishing across the river? No-one bothered with that bend. Everyone knew it was a dead area but no – he had to be there and see Mallory on his way to the van.
Still, that had all worked perfectly until Alex-bloody-probation had started sniffing around looking for the corpse previously known as Frank Mallory. Once she’d seen him in the cottage he was stuck, unable to travel into town in daylight in case she saw him and his identity was revealed. He’d planned a much better place for Big Bill’s demise but the snap choice of the bird hide had seemed safe enough until the ‘twitchers’ descended on him. It had all gone wrong since then and wherever he turned he seemed to see Alex. She’d helped to get Kevin Mallory out of prison, she’d been at Ada’s and all that support had helped the old cow grow a backbone. Time was Ada would have run screaming at the sight of him, not nearly kill him on the doorstep. And despite all his efforts Alex Hastings refused to be frightened and didn’t even have the decency to drown. Well, he was through with subtlety. He could feel the net closing around him as the police put the killings together and he wanted rid of the whole sorry mess. He was sick of living in the stink of Frank and he was sick of this poky ruin of a cottage. He couldn’t get to Kevin any time soon and Ada had eluded him, but he had time for one more before he made his escape and this time he would be swift and merciless.
Alex sat with Eddie and PC Brown in her office listening to the preliminary findings of the Task Force.
‘This is all confidential,’ the young policeman said. ‘We hope to trap whoever is doing this but seeing as he seems a bit interested in you,’ he nodded at Alex, ‘we thought maybe you should know what to look out for.’
‘What, so I don’t miss some lunatic with a great curved fishing knife lurching towards me?’ said Alex. ‘Look, what the hell is this to do with me anyway? You say the first …’ she hesitated, struggling with the word before taking a deep breath and continuing, ‘… the first murder was this Peter Smithson, the Elver Man as they all call him round here.’
Constable Brown nodded vigorously. ‘Yes that’s right. The pathologist is certain it is the same blade used to kill Big Bill Boyd and in the assault on Sergeant Michaels.’
‘And now you’re saying it not only matches my car tyres but also the damage to the raft? The same person cut my life jacket?’
There was another eager nod from the PC. He was like an overly keen dog, thought Alex rather uncharitably.
‘The punctures in the air tanks on the left side match exactly,’ he said.
‘Sorry, but where do I come in. I know we can argue coincidence and stuff but, shit, in the last few months I’ve had my tyres slashed, someone’s been breaking into my house and messing with things, I’ve almost drowned because my life jacket was sabotaged,’ she swung round to glare at Eddie here, ‘and it was my part of the boat where the air tanks were damaged. Not to mention that gruesome pike’s head.’
Eddie and Constable Brown stared at her for a moment.
‘What pike’s head?’ asked Eddie.
She told them, in terse, careful sentences while PC Brown took everything down in his shiny new notebook.
‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ said Eddie, when she was finished. Alex snorted and pulled a face. ‘I was going to when you called last time but I got distracted by a phone call. Then you were all busy with serious stuff and – well, I didn’t want to seem like I was easily scared or something. Anyway, I thought it might have been a sick joke by a client but I don’t think it was now. None of it seemed too bad on its own. It’s just when you put it all together …’ Her voice trailed off and she shook her head.
PC Brown closed his book with a sharp snap. ‘I think you should be very careful for while,’ he said, �
��at least until we know who is doing this. There has to be some connection but we’re not seeing it at the moment. At the meeting with the pathologist he said it was very interesting, you being a woman. As opposed to a man I mean.’ He began to get flustered under Alex’s hard stare. ‘I mean, all the other victims are men and it’s very unusual for someone like this to switch. So he thinks it may be something personal.’
Alex gave a sigh. ‘So I’ve really hacked someone off, I don’t know who, and the other people he’s pissed off with have ended up dead or with body parts removed. Have I missed anything?’
Eddie leaned forwards and touched her shoulder. ‘Alex, come on …’ but she shook him off angrily.
‘No, don’t try to make it all fine Eddie. This is getting very weird and rather serious. I worked in London, in some of the toughest areas in Britain. I’ve visited a prisoner in Broadmoor and had less trouble. I just don’t get this.’ She stood up abruptly, pushing her chair over as she left the room. Eddie held out his hand to stop the Constable rising to follow.
‘No, let her go,’ he said. ‘I’ll talk to her later, see if she can make sense of it all when she’s got over the shock. It’s been a tough year for her without finding out some maniac is stalking her.’
‘I wouldn’t put it quite that strongly,’ said PC Brown. ‘If it is personal he’s not been direct or confrontational, unlike the others. He’s almost teasing her.’
Eddie stood up and glared down at the young policeman. ‘Cutting someone’s life jacket is not teasing,’ he said. ‘The raft was sabotaged and Alex could have drowned out there. I think stalking is just about right and I hope you will be able to impress on your seniors the seriousness of all this.’
PC Brown tried to maintain his dignity as he rose to his feet, but despite the fact he was a good six inches taller than Eddie he looked like a truanting schoolboy standing in front of his form teacher.
‘We certainly take it very seriously,’ he said, struggling to get his notebook back in his pocket. ‘I was going to suggest she might consider staying with friends for a few days whilst we resolve the situation. Perhaps you might pass that message on.’ He walked to the door and pulled it open, his exit marred slightly by the fact the tips of his ears were glowing bright red. Eddie went to the window and looking down into the yard, just in time to see Alex slip into the workshop. He realized it might be someone in there, one of their higher-tariff clients, doing all this. Some of them certainly had the opportunity to sabotage the raft, though he couldn’t believe any of the crew or builders would have done such a thing. Still, it was probably safer for Alex to stay away until all this was resolved, he thought, as he headed slowly for the stairs.
Kevin was desperate. It was Fair Week and he’d not been into town once. For the first time in his life he was going to miss the big opening of the festive season. From the arrival of the fair in September to the day of the town Carnival on November 5th everyone was in a festive mood. Pub hours became infinitely flexible as the Carnival gangs laboured in secret to create the huge floats that had so astonished Alex last year. Music seeped from upstairs windows as groups of performers developed and practised their routines for the Carnival concerts, the first indication most townsfolk had of the delights to come in the grand procession. The few remaining visitors were often startled by the appearance of a clown or several chaps dressed in shiny nylon with masks or a group lugging a giant model camel down the side roads of the town. Parts of Greek temples and diminutive pyramids sprang up in pub car parks, soon to be hidden behind tarpaulin tents and guarded jealously night and day by protective gang members.
Before all this however was the Fair. Not just any old fair though, no this was one of the largest in the country and attracted people from the whole community. All the little fairs that toured the country began to converge on the town in September until, like drops of mercury, they ran together to form the huge spectacle setting up on St Mark’s Field.
‘Please Mum,’ he begged, ‘I can’t miss the Fair. ‘’Tis not like I’m banned nor nothin’. I’ve got a bit of money saved up. I just want to go and have a bit of a good time, maybe catch up with some mates.’
Ada looked at him suspiciously. ‘And what mates would you have then, Kevin Mallory?’ she demanded, standing in the doorway with her fists on her hips.
‘They’s from the workshop,’ he said. ‘All of us that made the raft and is working together. They’s a good bunch, honest.’ He watched her face hopefully and saw the first signs of her relenting.
‘Well,’ she grumbled, ‘seems a strange thing when your most honest friends is a bunch on probation. Oh go on, but I’m coming too. Not to hang around with you lot,’ she added hastily, seeing his stricken face. ‘Think I want to be seen with a load of criminals? Still, I always enjoy the Fair and will be nice, getting out a bit more. We’ll take the bus in tomorrow morning, make a day of it.’
‘I don’t want to miss the Fair again,’ said Alex. ‘I didn’t know about it last time. I didn’t really know about anything if I’m being truthful. Lauren’s going with Jonny and we can all hang together in a bunch. There’s absolutely no danger – it’s all just nonsense.’
Sue watched her from beneath lowered lashes, trying to see just how serious her friend was and decided Alex meant what she said. She was stubborn enough to go to the Fair on her own if her friends wouldn’t go with her, so she resigned herself to an evening of fried onions, vertiginous rides and crooked side stalls.
‘But we let Eddie and Paul know,’ she said. ‘Let’s face it, Jonny looks tough but in a scrap he’ll squeal and run away if he breaks a fingernail.’
‘Cruel,’ said Alex, ‘very cruel, but sadly accurate.’
The sheer scale of the Fair took Alex’s breath away. It covered the vast open space of St Mark’s Field and spilled down the side streets, tendrils reaching out almost to the market square. Although it was still early evening many of the rides had their lights on and music roared forth from dozens of huge speakers. The ground itself shook when the Ghost Train set off and all around there were smells of cooked food, oil, sawdust and hot metal to further confuse the senses. A long wooden wall painted in primary school colours had been erected along the side of the approach road and ambulances and the odd police car were parked on the dusty grass. Lauren was waiting impatiently near the main gate, Jonny lounging elegantly on the ticket booth as he chatted with the young man inside.
‘Bout time too,’ said Lauren crossly, as she scurried up to the entrance. Alex rummaged in her pocket for change, but the young man waved them through with a grin and a nod to Jonny.
‘Friends in low places, dear,’ he said as he sauntered towards the nearest hot-dog stand. ‘Anyone hungry yet?’
Unusually for a family attraction the Fair had a beer tent and they fortified themselves before venturing out into the main area where the larger rides stood, a challenge to both nerves and common sense. Alex declined the beer and sipped on an orange juice as she watched the Big Dipper roar overhead, the cars turned almost horizontal for one terrifying second. Behind her came screams from punters in the huge swinging Pirate Ship and in the distance she heard the rattling of a chain as the Dive Bomber rose to the top of its arc and began the plunge to earth. She shivered and looked around for something less likely to make her lose her supper and spied her favourite, the Helter Skelter.
‘Go on, that’s just lame,’ complained Lauren, who had returned from a fruitless but extremely vigorous argument with the owner of the Twister who refused her entry on the grounds she did not reach the minimum height.
‘That’s just prejudice,’ she grumbled. ‘Is intended to keep kids off and nothing to do with real height. What am I supposed to do then – ride that stupid Carousel all night?’
‘You didn’t have to kick him,’ Sue pointed out. They all looked over at the Twister where the owner was hopping around clutching his knee. Lauren shrugged, utterly unconcerned.
‘Serve him right,’ she said. ‘Hey, loo
k Alex, ’tis Kevin over there.’ She pointed towards the rifle range where Kevin was attracting quite a crowd. Wandering over they watched as Kevin handed over his money and received a number of tiny pellets and an air rifle. He turned them round carefully, rejecting two and receiving a couple in exchange from the reluctant stall holder. Gesturing to the group around him to move back, he raised the rifle and squinted down the barrel, head on one side and the gun twisted over to the right.
‘What the hell is he doing?’ whispered Alex. ‘He’ll never hit anything like that.’
There was a sharp crack and one of the ever-moving duck targets flipped backwards to the applause of the spectators. Kevin loaded the gun again and repeated his feat.
‘Two!’ said a voice in the crowd. Alex watched, fascinated, as Kevin proceeded to score ten hits from ten pellets. He laid the gun down and turned to receive the congratulations of his friends and she noticed money changing hands as bets were settled. Kevin spotted her, gave a huge grin and turned back to the stall owner who was rather less enthused by his success.
‘All right, that’s enough,’ he said. ‘So you scored another ten – well that’s sixty in all and worth ninety points.’
‘’Tis doubled for a full house with bulls-eyes,’ said Kevin, ‘so that’s 180 points.’