Trapped

by Isla Whitcroft

  ‘Think like an agent, act like an agent,’ she told herself as she sent Arthur a text to tell him she was safe and well, and deactivated the tracker. That done, she began to walk back down the cobbled street towards the marina.

  Back on the boat, no one seemed to have noticed that Cate had even been away. Wendy was on the middle deck, quietly chatting to Lulu who was sprawled out full length on one of the large sofas. Both women gave Cate a cursory glance and a wave, noting, Cate hoped, her shopping baskets.

  She unpacked the baskets in the galley, marvelling as she saw delicacies such as Beluga Caviar, dressed crab and fresh lobster. Right at the bottom was a small package with her name on it. She took it, and headed down to her cabin and shut the door on the world with relief.

  She lay on the bed and forced herself to think hard. Were these people for real? Or were they the type of grown men who play-acted at being soldiers on paintballing weekends or wore khaki to the pub and claimed to have been in the SAS? If so, it was a pretty elaborate scam, especially considering the vast underground operation that she had just witnessed.

  But Marcus and Henri didn’t seem that type. Then there was the small matter of Andrei and his beating. She had certainly witnessed real thuggery, real criminals at work.

  She needed to find out more and there was just one person she could really trust to help her. She pulled out her laptop and, remembering Marcus’s advice to cover her tracks at all time, input the code Arthur had given her to activate the signal scrambler he’d set up. From now on, anyone trying to track her down using her internet access would be unable to pinpoint just where she was. She was, in cyber sense, invisible.

  She waited as the computer connected to the web, then angled the camera towards her face. She found herself praying that Arthur would be sitting in his bedroom, close enough to hear the computer alert calling him. She suddenly craved the sound of his voice, the sound of home and normality, and for the second time that day felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

  To her utter relief her prayers were answered. Within seconds, Arthur’s face was on her screen, a big smile pasted across his face.

  ‘Hi, sis.’ His voice sounded clear on the screen. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘God, Arthur, where do I start?’ Cate swallowed hard. ‘I miss you so much.’ She fell silent.

  The smile on Arthur’s face disappeared. ‘Sis, what’s wrong? Are you OK?’

  For a few awful seconds Cate thought she really was going to break down. She took a deep breath. ‘Arthur,’ she began, ‘can you record this for me, put it on a memory stick and keep it somewhere safe?’

  He nodded, not quite understanding why, but obediently he tapped a few buttons on his keyboard and then signalled for her to go ahead.

  ‘I’m in the middle of something,’ she said quietly. ‘A mystery, a crime, an investigation. I don’t quite know how it happened, and part of me doesn’t believe it is for real, but somehow, well, it is.’

  As she began to recount the events of the last two days, Cate was well aware how fantastic they must have sounded. She could see Arthur’s green eyes growing wider and the colour draining from his cheeks.

  He let her talk, listening carefully without interruption. When she had finished he took a deep breath. ‘Sis, are you safe?’

  ‘I am for now.’ She found herself smiling. ‘Although I’m starting to doubt everything. I thought this boat was safe, home even, but now I’m beginning to wonder.’

  ‘Look, Cate,’ said Arthur, ‘what’s happened to you sounds like something out of a Jason Bourne film. Like you’ve landed in the middle of some great fantastic adventure. But it won’t be so great if you get hurt. And these guys that you’re dealing with, well, both sides sound pretty hardcore to me.’

  ‘I’ll have a look at Ramibia, especially that port – what was it called? Tendo?’ Arthur was immediately distracted from his concern for Cate by the thought of some juicy cyber-detecting. ‘Tendo’s mayor and the harbour master – they’re the two people we want to know about,’ continued Arthur, almost to himself. ‘They must have internet access and email maybe, even if they are hidden away somewhere in the deepest, darkest ends of the web. I can try and get into their systems and see what I can find out.’

  Now Cate was worried. ‘Arthur, be careful. These are really heavy people. If they suspect you are spying on them, well, they could get pretty angry. You don’t want them tracking you down.’

  Arthur smiled confidently. ‘Cate, the day someone can track me down over the internet is the day I hang up my mouse and look forward to working at McDonalds. This is me you’re talking to. Don’t you remember that time I got into the payroll system and doubled Dad’s salary? They never did find out how that happened. Or when I got the final chapters of The Deathly Hallows way before anyone else. Now that was a mean piece of work.’

  ‘OK, OK, Arthur, you’re the best.’ Cate was laughing now. ‘But if you think for one second that someone is on to you, then promise me, swear to me on Dad’s life, that you will get out of there and cover your tracks as you go. It’s vital that they don’t trace you.’

  ‘I promise, sis, but I want you to promise me something in return.’ His face was completely serious now. ‘Text or mail me the code I’m sending you now every morning at ten a.m. and evening at ten p.m. I will give you an hour’s leeway. After that, if I don’t hear from you, I’ll hand over this memory stick to Dad or Monique and let them come after you. Is that fair?’

  ‘Not only is it fair, Arthur, it’s genius. As Dad always says, a back-up plan is a good plan.’

  Brother and sister grinned at each other through cyberspace. Cate’s phone pinged. She had Arthur’s code.

  ‘And look into those wildlife reserves that guard the really precious animals. Somehow security has been breached in every one of them and I just don’t know how that can happen.’

  ‘Everyone has their price,’ said Arthur solemnly.

  ‘Arthur!’ said Cate half shocked, half laughing. ‘When did you get so cynical?’

  He grinned back. ‘I’ve been watching too much EastEnders again.’

  ‘Just tune into me every night,’ said Cate happily. Arthur always managed to cheer her up. ‘It’s like a soap opera here, I can tell you. There’s Nancy Kyle looking like a goddess, phone calls from pop stars, a weirdo stylist who also does her horoscope and a really scary woman who, as far as I can tell, just hangs around answering her BlackBerry.’

  ‘Sounds great,’ said Arthur enthusiastically. ‘I’m going to talk Dad into bringing me down to see you once school ends. In the meantime, have you actually gone to sea yet?’

  ‘Er, no.’ Cate laughed. ‘I’m beginning to realise that owning a yacht doesn’t actually have much to do with sailing. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Nancy Kyle suffered from seasickness!’

  As both of them howled with laughter there was a knocking at Cate’s cabin door.

  ‘Cate?’ It was Wendy. ‘I need a hand. Tass Taplinski has rocked into town and Nancy wants to make sure he has an evening to remember.’

  Cate motioned to Arthur to be quiet.

  ‘Cate,’ said Wendy again, this time more impatiently. ‘Are you in there? Can you hear me?’

  ‘Yup, yes,’ said Cate, trying her best to sound as if she had just woken up. ‘Just having a little nap. I’ll be up in ten minutes.’

  ‘Make it five,’ said Wendy shortly. ‘We’ve got a whole heap of things to do.’

  Cate waited a few seconds before resuming her conversation with Arthur, but this time in a whisper.

  ‘Phew,’ said her brother. ‘She sounds fierce.’

  ‘She’s all right really,’ Cate told him. ‘She just has a lot to do. Anyway, see what I mean about a soap opera? Now, to top it all, the gorgeous Tass Taplinski, darling of the celebrity magazines, the man who has dated just about every desirable woman from Madonna to Princess Mary of Lithuania, is about to come into my life.’

  Arthur giggled. ‘Tass Taplins
ki, eh? It says here he won Top Pecs of the Year in Cosmo magazine three years running,’ he said, reading from the web as he talked. ‘Plus his dad is the fourth richest man in Russia.’

  ‘He’s more than just a pretty face,’ said Cate defensively. ‘He played pro tennis.’

  ‘Reached the dizzy heights of number 247 in the world rankings,’ said Arthur gleefully.

  ‘He produced that film, what was it called? Bloodlines of the Father.’

  ‘Which received a Raspberry Award for being so rubbish,’ said Arthur still reading. ‘And he has been arrested for drink-driving in LA, been investigated for tax fraud in Germany. Uh-oh, and it says here Daddy had to bail him out of a bankruptcy suit in Florida when his property company hit the skids.’

  ‘Arthur, stop it,’ laughed Cate. ‘He’s a pretty hot loser, anyway. A loser with his own yacht, a plane, a Mayfair apartment in London and a house in LA. I just want to get close enough to smell his aftershave and get our pic taken together so I can show my mates. Listen, I’ve got to go. Love you lots.’

  ‘You too, sis. And don’t worry. I’ll get to work for you straightaway. By this time tomorrow I’ll know everything there is to know about the IMIA, Ramibia and Nancy Kyle. Leave it to your clever little bro.’

  Cate hurried off to Wendy. She found her talking to Bill on the outside deck.

  Wendy thrust a tray holding drinks into Cate’s hands. ‘Would you ask Nancy what she wants for dinner and when.’

  Carrying the heavy tray, Cate went back inside the boat, and padded quietly through the salon towards the master suite. As she got nearer to Nancy’s cabin, she heard music playing and the sound of raucous laughter.

  Cate tapped quietly at the door and waited for half a minute or so before rapping again, this time slightly louder. Still the music continued and Cate gingerly opened the door with her left hand while trying to keep the tray level with her right.

  The room was almost unrecognisable from the immaculate space where, just a few hours earlier, Cate had carefully unpacked the cases. Now most of those clothes were strewn over the bed, some of them trampled on the floor. A plate of cold chips was balanced precariously on the vanity sink.

  Piled on the pillows were a host of giant cuddly toys – a panda, a tiger, a lion and a gorilla. There was even a white cheetah with a grotesque giant pink heart strung around its neck bearing the words exotic and rare. Significant? wondered Cate. Or normal for someone who’s still not yet quite grown up? Is that true of Nancy?

  She took a deep breath, unsure as to whether she would be bawled out or made welcome.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, looking around the room for Nancy. She raised her voice nervously ‘I’ve brought your drinks. Shall I pour you them?’

  As she spoke, the supermodel came wandering out of the bathroom, wearing a very short, lemon silk dressing gown and an enormous pair of diamond stud earrings. Even with her red hair wet and tousled and without any make-up, she looked sensational, her green eyes wide and bright and her skin palely luminous.

  She was clutching her mobile phone to her left ear as she walked and her foghorn laugh filled the room. ‘Darling . . .’ She sounded excited. ‘You know I love you, but Tass has just arrived in town and he has to come first. I’ll try to get him along but he does get sooo jealous when he has to share little old me. Remember what happened in New York? And me such a good girl and all.’

  Her caller obviously made the right reply because there was that laugh again. Cate tried hard not to wince. She would need earplugs if she was going to stay around Nancy for much longer.

  ‘Good job Tass didn’t hear that or he’d set one of his bodyguards on you,’ cackled Nancy. ‘Anyway, babe, have to go and make myself look beautiful for my billionaire. I’ll party another time with my lovely Oirish boys, so I will. Promise. Love you loads. Ciao, ciao.’

  She put her phone down.

  ‘Put it there.’ She gestured to the dressing table without even looking at Cate. ‘There, babe, there,’ she said more impatiently as Cate hesitated.

  Remembering what Marcus had said, Cate thought desperately of a conversation opener. ‘What are you wearing tonight?’ she asked timidly.

  ‘Dunno, babe.’ Nancy, who was sitting on the bed checking the glossy black varnish on her toenails, sounded vaguely shocked at Cate’s initiative.

  Cate ploughed bravely on. ‘I unpacked all your stuff today. It was – amazing.’

  This time Nancy looked up. ‘Oh yeah, right, er, thanks.’ She looked at Cate properly for the first time. ‘Tell you what, babe. You probably know what clothes I’ve brought better than I do, and I’m not sure about what Jules has chosen for tonight. So you tell me what to wear for my gorgeous fella. Something sexy but not too slinky. Definitely not tarty, blingy sexy. He can get that anytime from a Russian girl if he wants it. No, I have to look classy.’

  ‘You couldn’t look anything else,’ said Cate and this time she meant the compliment. ‘But I do think you look fab in midnight blue. It sort of sets your hair off and makes your skin glow.’

  For a minute Cate thought she might have overdone the compliments. But Nancy was delighted.

  ‘Clever,’ said the supermodel approvingly. ‘I can see we’re gonna be great mates.’ She leant into the pile of clothes on the bed and pulled out a dark blue sleeveless shift and held it against her slender frame. The neckline was high and demure but to make up for that, the floaty hem wafted somewhere only just below her knicker line.

  With a deft movement she slithered out one foot and then another and suddenly she was standing in the smallest sliver of silver wedged sandals which added another four inches to her already giraffe-like legginess.

  ‘It’s gorgeous,’ said Cate, gaping. ‘It’s perfect. Then just a silver bracelet and some really long earrings and you’re pretty much done.’

  ‘Blimey, babe,’ Nancy sat back down on the bed. ‘Well, that’s another favour you’ve done me today. Me and Jules usually spend hours working out what to wear. What am I going to do with myself? Read a book?’

  She laughed, her wide generous mouth curving open as she threw back her head in real enjoyment and suddenly she was transformed from a sulky sophisticate to something approaching a normal young woman.

  There was a sharp tap at the door and Nancy’s smile faded. Without a word, Lulu bustled into the cabin, her quick efficient gaze taking in the shambolic mess and, Cate was sure, the friendly vibe between herself and Nancy.

  ‘Oh my God, Nancy, you’re not thinking of wearing that, are you?’ Lulu said sharply, her accent sounding stronger than ever in the small space. ‘You wore that dress two weeks ago in New York at the Museum of Fashion event. Your picture was everywhere, simply everywhere. Do you want Tass to laugh at you, to think you are a cheap woman who wears the same things again and again? This is how you compete with the daughters of billionaires? Put it down, put it down now.’

  Cate was cringing with embarrassment. She waited with baited breath for Nancy to lay into Lulu. But instead the supermodel looked tired and deflated. ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I forgot. Thanks, Lulu.’

  Lulu was now stalking triumphantly around the cabin, picking up clothes and shoes and taking them through to the walk-in wardrobe. As she did so, Cate spotted something very odd. There were many pictures of children – Nancy’s brood Cate presumed – adorning the walls. But, on the bedside table stood a cluster of silver framed photographs featuring Nancy with various animals – rare animals: a Siberian tiger, a giant turtle, a silver-back gorilla, taken at locations ranging from what looked like a rainforest, to a mountainside, to the bluest of oceans. Cate tried to move closer to the pictures to get a better look, but as she did so Lulu came back into the cabin and let rip at her.

  ‘What are you still doing here?’ she barked. ‘You’re in the way. Go.’

  Cate shot a glance at Nancy, but she had her back turned and was looking around the wardrobe. Cate realised that Nancy had forgotten all about her. As she left the room she made a men
tal note to find a way back in there for a thorough search as soon as possible.

  As she passed the kitchen, she saw that Marcus had finally returned. He had his back to the door and was hard at work flambéing a hunk of meat over a very lively flame. She paused, uncertain as to whether she should talk to him or ignore him. She decided that the first course of action would be the most natural. ‘Hey, Marcus,’ she called out. ‘How’re you doing?’

  Marcus turned and grinned at her. The transformation was extraordinary. Gone was the taut-faced Marcus of just a few hours earlier and in his place was the laid-back chef. ‘Thanks for bringing the shopping back,’ said Marcus. ‘Any orders for tonight from the boss?’

  ‘Don’t think so,’ said Cate. ‘But I really didn’t get a chance to ask her. I think she just wants something romantic for her and Tass.’

  ‘Leave it to Marcus,’ he said, winking at her. ‘Food and romance, they’re my two favourite words in the whole of the world.’

  Cate, still stunned at his ability to switch personalities so easily and convincingly, made her escape and went to look for Wendy.

  ‘What can I do to help, Wendy?’ she asked, when she found the steward up on the top deck by the pool. The afternoon sun was finally losing its burn and the heat was pleasant and soothing. Smells of garlic and frying steaks were beginning to drift out from the other boats in the marina.

  ‘Mmmm. Well, Tass is due in about half an hour,’ said Wendy, folding the thick towels with origami-like precision and placing them on the ends of the sun loungers. ‘He’ll bring bodyguards with him – his dad insists on it – and they’ll need feeding. I guess I’ll do the main waiting up here and you bring the drinks then go down and look after the bodyguards. You’ll be on call until Tass and Nancy go out and party or turn in for the night. Either way, I’ll do the late shift this time in case they want anything in the night. Your turn next time.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Cate. A thought struck her. ‘Shall I tidy Nancy’s room while she’s out on deck?’ she said carefully. ‘It was a bit of a shambles earlier.’