by M A Comley
“That’s understandable. Not everyone’s stomach is as robust as mine. I just wanted you to be aware of the crime from the outset. I’m going to get the body transported to the lab now; thoroughly check it over for more wounds. I’ll get the report back to you pronto.”
“I’d appreciate that. Can you tell me more about where the boat was found?” Lorne asked, taking a tissue from her pocket. She wiped the beads of sweat from her brow.
“It was found anchored out at sea, just around the bay.”
“So, if this is a murder case, then someone must have either boarded the boat from another vessel or gone out there with the deceased?”
“Possibly. Hold on.” Patti walked over to one of the mechanics, and Lorne trailed her. “Do these boats usually come with some kind of additional craft that someone can use to come ashore if the boat gets into difficulty?”
Lorne laughed. “What my friend is trying to ask is whether a boat that size would have a dinghy aboard for emergencies?”
Patti sharply turned in her direction. “That’s exactly what I said.”
Lorne shook her head. “You didn’t, but that’s okay. I think the man understands now.”
The mechanic rubbed his greasy hands on a cloth as he spoke. “The likelihood is yes, unless something major has gone wrong.”
“Such as?” Lorne enquired.
“If there was a fire on the main vessel, any emergency craft might have been affected. Most of these cruisers come with inflatable dinghies. Inflatables don’t do well when surrounded by heat.”
“That’s a good point. Thanks for the heads-up on that. It’s a long shot, but do you recognise the boat at all?”
“Without a name, which has been burnt off, lady, it’s difficult to tell one from another, especially when it’s in that kind of condition.”
“That’s not exactly what I was hoping to hear. If I asked around the marina, do you think I might get a different answer?”
The mechanic hitched up his right shoulder. “Worth a shot.”
Lorne and Patti retraced their steps back to the corpse. “The thing is, Lorne, just because the boat was tied up out in the bay, it doesn’t mean that the victim was from around here. We’re an island, with a very long coastline.”
“I know. But we have to start somewhere, Patti, and around here is as good a place as any. When do you think Forensics will be able to get to a chassis number? Do boats even have a chassis number?”
“I’m not sure. They must have some form of identification aboard. I’ll make sure they search for that first before they do anything else. How’s that?”
“Perfect. Are you going to make a move now?”
“That’s the plan. My guys are ready to transport the victim. I wanted you to see it first.”
“I appreciate that, Patti. Katy and I will stick around here and start asking some questions. If the boat docked here, then someone must’ve noticed a stranger in town. There again, we’re surmising the victim isn’t local. We’ll get the ball rolling until you can give us something positive to go on.”
Lorne and Katy watched the pathology team load the body into the van and drive away. Patti waved as her vehicle followed her team away from the area. “Great. Where do we begin?” Lorne asked.
“Well, the mechanics don’t appear to know anything, so I suppose we should start making enquiries with the other boats docked in the marina,” Katy suggested.
“Do you want to split up or do this together?” Lorne asked, scanning the numerous boats moored up to the dock.
“Together would be best.”
“Let’s make a start, then.”
“Can I make a suggestion,” Katy asked tentatively.
Lorne’s forehead wrinkled. “Of course. Go for it.”
“If the boat departed from the marina, maybe it would be better to start where there’s a gap, possibly vacated by a recent departure.”
“Good idea. You get a gold star for that one, partner.”
Katy smiled, the colour in her cheeks reverting to near normal after her icky spell in the mechanic’s workshop.
They started at the far end of the marina and worked their way back towards the car park. All the jetties appeared to be reasonably full. It wasn’t until they had travelled the length of the wooden structure that possible gaps between the boats became more apparent.
“Hello, ladies. You look lost. Can I help at all?” called out a man wearing shorts, a navy-blue windbreaker jacket, and a cap with an anchor at the front.
“You might be able to. Have you been moored here long?” Lorne asked.
“A few months. What do you need to know?”
Lorne and Katy produced their warrant cards. “I’m DI Lorne Warner, and this is DS Katy Foster. I presume you saw the incident with the boat out at sea that occurred yesterday. Any idea who the boat belonged to?”
The man chewed his lip and shook his head. “Dreadful incident. I heard the explosion. I guess that sort of thing happens once in a while with new vessels, Lord knows why.”
“It was new? How do you know that, Mr...?”
“Sorry, Isaac Jacobs at your service, ladies.”
Lorne nodded. “Pleased to meet you, Isaac. So you recognised the boat. Is that right?”
“Not really, miss. I tend to keep my eyes and ears open, though. Call me the neighbourhood watch patrol of the marina if you like. It’s an unpaid role of course.”
“Well, they’re lucky to have your observational skills at their service. What else can you tell us, Isaac?”
The man in his early sixties vaulted sprightly off his boat and landed on the jetty beside them. “Well, the young guy arrived sometime yesterday morning. He started tinkering with his boat, his eyes constantly glued to the car park as if he was waiting for someone to arrive.”
“I see. Did someone turn up?”
He clicked his tongue and scratched the side of his head. “They might have. I didn’t really see. It was around lunchtime, you see.” He rubbed his tummy. “If I don’t feed the beast regularly, the ulcer, it plays up something chronic.”
“So, was the boat still here when you resurfaced after lunch?” Lorne asked, disappointment clenching her stomach muscles.
“Unfortunately not.”
“That’s bad news. Do you think any of the other nearby boat owners would be able to assist us?”
“It was really quiet around here yesterday, what with it being a Sunday and all. Must be the time of the year. Most of these boats aren’t touched now until the spring. I live on my boat all year round, hence me adopting the role of neighbourhood watch patrolman.”
“What a shame. Can I ask if you caught the name of the boat? Or did you have a conversation with the boat owner perhaps? We’re trying to ascertain if the owner was local or not.”
“No, didn’t catch the name of the boat. Silly of me, I know. I was building up to talk to the chap after lunch. Didn’t want to pounce on him the minute he docked. You never know how folks are going to react. He might have thought I was just poking my nose into his business. I waved to him a few times to break the ice. He seemed pleasant enough, a little unsure of me to begin with, but then he was on the lookout for someone, like I said.”
“In your considered opinion, do you think there was anything suspicious in his behaviour?” Lorne asked cagily.
“Suspicious? In what way?” He gasped as if cottoning on to her meaning. “A possible drug runner? Is that what you’re getting at? My, oh my!”
Lorne chuckled and shrugged. “We have no idea about that at this present time. But the clues we have obtained so far are leading us down an unsavoury path. That’s for sure.”
“Unsavoury path, eh? Coppers’ speak for suspicious goings on.”
“You’re very astute, Isaac. Can you point out any of the boat owners who might have witnessed the man’s arrival at the marina?”
He pointed at a boat behind him. “There are a couple of young lads residing on that craft for the week. Rowdy mos
t of the time, loud music, et cetera.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Be glad to see the back of them come Friday, I can tell you. Even thought of anchoring this girl out at sea for the week, just to escape their racket and to get some decent kip.”
“Which boat exactly?” Katy asked, looking over her shoulder.
“The Dream Goddess. I haven’t seen them surface today as yet; far too early in the day for the likes of that mob. If they don’t tone it down a bit, do I have your permission to call your mob and ask for backup? People need to respect other folks who live here permanently in search of peace and quiet.”
“We’ll have a quiet word with them about that. Don’t worry. Is there anything else you can tell us about the boat in question?”
“No, sorry I couldn’t be any more help. I take it the man didn’t make it off the boat. Am I right?”
“You are, Isaac. Sadly, it looks like we’re dealing with a murder enquiry.”
“Whoa, the explosion was deliberate? The thought never even crossed my mind. That’s incredible. I wish I’d been more observant in that case. It’s this damn ulcer, gives me jip most of the time. Sorry, you don’t want to hear about my aches and pains.”
Lorne smiled sympathetically. “I hope you get your ulcer sorted soon. Thanks for your help. Have a good day.”
The man reached out to shake their hands then hopped back on his boat. Lorne and Katy walked up the jetty and stopped outside The Dream Goddess.
“How do we wake them up?” Katy asked.
“No idea. I’ll climb aboard and see if anyone surfaces.”
“If they got rat-arsed last night, I reckon the odds on that happening are virtually zilch. Here, I’ll help you.”
Lorne held tightly to Katy’s hand and gingerly climbed onto the boat’s deck. She walked around in a circle, hoping her heels would be noisy enough to gain someone’s attention. When no one surfaced, she knocked on the wooden door at the rear with a bar that was lying on the deck. Nice! Good sense of security, I don’t think. “Hello, anyone there?”
A few moments later, a sleepy young man opened the door, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. “Yeah, what do you want? We haven’t ordered anything from anywhere.”
Lorne flashed her ID inches before the man’s eyes. “Can you see that clearly enough? My partner and I would like to ask you and your companions a few questions, once you’re all dressed of course. We’ll wait on the jetty. You have five minutes, okay?”
“About what? We haven’t done anything wrong. Damn, is this about the party we had last night?”
Lorne issued the man a taut smile. “Four minutes and thirty seconds.”
“Okay, okay. I hear you.”
Katy helped Lorne disembark the boat, and they both folded their arms and tapped a foot as they waited for the man and his shipmates to appear. Katy shuddered. “My feet are freezing. Hurry up, morons,” she grumbled under her breath.
“Walk around a little. I agree—it is a little fresh. It’s to be expected at this time of year. Here they are now. Glad they’ve seen sense and thrown on some clothes. I’d hate for their dicks to get frostbite,” Lorne joked.
Katy turned her back on the men to laugh. “Did you have to say that? I’m going to have trouble keeping a straight face now.”
Lorne winked at her and smiled at the three men lined up on the deck. “Morning, chaps. Sorry for the rude awakening. We’re investigating a crime that took place yesterday in the vicinity and wondered if you’d be willing to help us with our enquiries.”
The three men, varying in height and builds, all stared back at them, blank expressions on each of their unshaven faces. After a few seconds, the original man crossed his arms and said, “What sort of crime? I hope you’re not suggesting we had anything to do with it? All we’re guilty of is having a good time.”
“A major crime is all I’m prepared to say right now. We’ve been told by one of your neighbours that you were present here yesterday. Is that right?”
“Yes, we had a lazy day. Listened to the match on the radio—Man City stuffed Man U, by the way—had a barbecue and a few beers to celebrate.”
“Did you notice a new boat moored up close to Mr. Jacobs’s boat over there?”
The main spokesperson shook his head and asked his companions, “Did you, guys?”
“Yes, you remember, Paul. Those two girls arrived,” the cheeky-looking chappie with the slight beer belly replied.
Lorne turned to face Katy and raised an eyebrow. Katy took out her notebook.
Now that his memory had been jogged, the spokesperson clicked his fingers. “That’s right. A couple of brunettes turned up. They looked up for a good time. Didn’t they, boys?” He laughed and dug his elbows into the ribs of both of his companions, encouraging them to join in.
Lorne cleared her throat to gain their attention. “Good time? What exactly are you saying?”
The spokesperson lowered his hand to the top of his thighs. “Skirts up to here, stiletto heels, and bulging boobs in low-cut tops. The kind of getup girls wear when they’re out on the pull.”
“I see, and they got aboard the boat?”
“Yeah, I wolf whistled them as they passed, but they showed little interest, which kind of surprised me ’cause girls always fall for my outstanding charm and good looks.” His friends tittered beside him like adolescent schoolboys.
Lorne tutted. “Okay, I know you’re finding this a big joke, but do you mind restraining all the childish banter and just answering the questions properly?”
“Sorry. Carry on.”
Lorne tried again. “Just to be clear, you say the women did get on the boat?”
“Yeah, the bloke who owned it—well, I assumed he owned it—ordered them, with a smile, to remove their shoes before getting on. Wise move, too, because they were killer heels.”
Lorne cringed at the words. Killer heels worn by killer women by all accounts! “And they didn’t protest?”
“Nope. Slipped them off, then the chap helped them board the boat one by one.”
“Do you think they knew each other well?” Katy asked.
“Yeah, that’s the impression I got. What about you, boys?”
“Yep, me, too,” his shipmates agreed.
“Interesting. Did you keep an eye on them? After you initially showed interest in them, it would be hard for you not to watch the proceedings, right?”
“You’re right. Discreetly, of course. Not that they hung around the marina for long. It was a matter of minutes before the boat left the jetty and slid out to sea.”
“And everyone on the boat seemed to be having a good time? There was no shouting or confrontations from what you could see?” Lorne asked, intrigued by the revelation that they might be looking at two female murderers who had carried out the crime.
“Yeah, they all seemed to be having a good time from what I could tell. One of the girls did appear a little sick once the engine started and the boat moved off, but apart from that, nothing out of the ordinary was going on.”
“It must have been a boozy day for you if you didn’t hear the explosion.”
The three men looked at each other in confusion. “Explosion? What explosion?” the spokesman asked quietly, as if the reality of what had occurred had just struck him.
“The boat in question blew up around the coast and was hoisted out of the sea.” Lorne stretched her neck to see if she could view the crane from where she was standing—she couldn’t. Therefore, she doubted the men would have been aware of the charred boat sitting on the dock.
“Holy crap! What was it? A mechanical fault?”
“We’re not sure yet. Our enquiries have only just commenced. Here’s the thing—only one body was found aboard the boat when it was hauled back to shore.”
“Really? One of the girls, or was it the bloke?”
“We have a male victim. No sign of either of the ladies at present. Of course, that’s not to say that they won’t show up within the next few days. They might
have jumped overboard when the blaze started for all we know. We’re just not sure right now. That’s why we need to gather all the evidence we can find to help us build a case.” Lorne didn’t let on that the man had suffered fatal injuries to his neck.
“What about the emergency craft? Did the boat have a dinghy? Could the women have escaped using that?”
Lorne tilted her head. “May I ask what you do for a profession, Mr...?”
“It’s Frankie Da Costa. I’m a trainee solicitor.”
“Ahh... I understand now. Well, that’s another angle that we’re looking into, Mr. Da Costa. Is it too much to ask if you saw either of the women again later on that day?”
Da Costa shook his head. “Sorry, no, Inspector. We would have recognised those beauties in a heartbeat if they’d popped up again.”
“Would you be willing to give a description to a police artist to help us identify the women?”
He scratched his head as he thought. “The mind is still a little fuzzy from the alcohol, but I’m sure we could come up with something for you to go on.”
“That would be great. Will you be around the rest of the day?”
He nodded. “We hadn’t made any plans for the day, had we, boys?”
“Just a touch of fishing, that’s all,” the cheeky one replied.
“Okay. I’ll request a police artist to drop by and see you this afternoon. It would be really helpful if you can give us as much detail about these women as possible. Once we have your sketches to hand, we’ll run a call for help through the media channels to see if anyone can identify the women.”
“Anything we can do to help, we will. Sorry for all the messing about earlier. We truly didn’t realise the gravity of the situation,” Da Costa said, looking ashamed for their behaviour.
Lorne accepted his apology with a nod and a smile. “These things happen. I’ll place a call now and let you know when to expect the artist. Thanks for your help. Oh, by the way, keep the noise down a little, and be respectful to the other people staying here, eh?”