Whispers in the Rigging

by steve higgs

  Alex Jordan. Wednesday, November 23rd 1101hrs

  The Dockyard itself was busy. Eight coachloads of children from different schools had descended on it. Educational trips no doubt a constant source of income throughout the year. With the dogs on their leads, I bought a ticket for the third day in a row but noted that the two ladies that had served me previously were no longer there. It could just be that they had the day off, but the lady with the heavy Eastern European accent now fumbling to work the till had never worked this job before if I was any judge. I had to wait while she conferred with a colleague in Ukrainian. Finally, she found the right button to press and my ticket was dispensed.

  The Ukrainians were taking over every position as the old Navy boys had predicted. Were they next? I went to find them.

  Sergeant Joseph Kushnir was here somewhere. I was in no hurry to find him though, if I didn’t spot him in the next hour, I would call him. As I made my way to the dry docks where I would find Alan and the others, I called Big Ben.

  ‘Hey, dung trumpet, what’re you up to?’ He asked as the call connected.

  I replied with, ‘Good morning, Ben.’ He had a new insult or name to call me every time we spoke. I had to wonder if he had a book he used to generate them. ‘I am at the Dockyard. Did you find a boat?’

  ‘I hired one.’ He replied. ‘There was no one around to borrow one from so I have a tiny little dingy. It’s fast though, or at least it feels it. I should be alongside the Dockyard in another half an hour.’

  I said, ‘Then I hope the entrance is easy to find.’ and pressed the red button to disconnect the call.

  I had arrived at the dry docks and already been spotted by Boy George. I was easy to pick out with my dogs pulling along in front of me and I stood three feet higher than eighty percent of the schoolchild visitors around me.

  I threw him a casual wave. He was sending a group of kids below deck on the destroyer, leaving him free.

  ‘Wotcha, Tempest.’ He called as he crossed the concrete. ‘Bad business with Julia Jones, I don’t mind saying.’

  I started to agree, wondering if they even suspected she had been murdered when I noticed that he wasn’t looking at me, but beyond me over my left shoulder.

  ‘Look out. Here comes the boss.’ He said. As I turned to see who he meant, I noticed that Alan and Fred were also approaching from wherever they had been performing their jobs.

  Boy George had been referring to Alex Jordan though. He was approaching from behind me, wearing an elegant suit and a long winter coat of a wool-blend. It looked like it might cost an average person’s annual wage.

  ‘Mr. Michaels.’ He extended his hand as he greeted me. ‘How is your father?’

  ‘No different.’ I answered. ‘Thank you for asking though. I am sure he will recover and be able to identify his assailant soon enough.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope so.’ If the death of his colleague, Julia Jones, was having any impact on his day, there was no sign of it. ‘What brings you here today?’

  His interest was suspicious. How had he known I was here? Was it chance? ‘Why do you ask, Alex?’ I decided to push my luck. ‘What are you hiding?’

  The question was inflammatory, designed to make him react. I expected an angry response, perhaps that it was a perfectly reasonable question to ask while avoiding giving an answer to my other question about what he might be hiding. Instead, I saw a flutter of panic in his eyes. Then he grabbed my arm, so he could whisper in my ear. ‘I’m in trouble.’

  He moved back to put a normal distance between us again. I checked behind me to see where Alan, George and the others were. They hadn’t heard what Alex had said and were waiting patiently for me to speak with them. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’ I said as I moved away, taking Alex’s elbow to guide him.

  Quietly I said, ‘I’m listening.’ He seemed nervous, skittish. His eyes were darting about. ‘If we are being watched it will be best to act and move normally, smile, gesticulate and speak at a volume that is only slightly lower than normal. There is plenty of ambient noise to drown out what we are saying.’ He swallowed, looking nervous and looked about again. I stopped walking. ‘Here will do. Face me and you can check one field of vision while I check the other.’ I was trying to calm him so he would talk and act naturally. He was drawing attention to himself with the scared rabbit act.

  Finally, he pulled himself together and spoke again. ‘I think Julia was murdered.’ He blurted. ‘I think she was murdered, and I think I might be next.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why was Julia murdered and why would you be next? Better yet, who is it that you think killed Julia? Just what is going on here?’ I had made several mistakes I realised as I stopped speaking. I should have stuck to one question at a time. Too late to take them back though.

  ‘It’s the Ukrainians.’ He hissed. ‘They invested some money two years ago when I wanted to expand some of our attractions. Everything costs so much and then there is upkeep and maintenance and cleaning and extra staff to show the tourists around. I think they even sabotaged some of the new attractions so I would need to borrow more money from them. Then, as old staff retired, or we needed to hire someone for a new position, it was always a Ukrainian that got the job. Before I even knew it, the security guards were all Ukrainian. When I took the money, they insisted I hired that ox Danylo Vakhno. He terrifies me.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this on Monday?’

  ‘I think my office is bugged. And my house and car and phone. They have made it quite clear I am to keep the place running and not ask questions.’

  A light bulb came on in my head. That was what he had been trying to signal to me on Monday. His office was bugged. That was why he kept touching his ear. ‘Why haven’t you gone to the police?’

  ‘And tell them what? I have no evidence of anything. I know they are up to something, but I have no idea what it is.’

  ‘Mr Michaels.’ The loud voice calling my name came from behind Alex. He spun around shocked like he had just been stabbed with an electrode.

  ‘Who’s that?’ He asked, panicked.

  ‘A colleague.’ Detective Sergeant Kushnir could remain anonymous for now. He was certainly trying to do just that with his coat collar turned up and dark sunglasses to hide his eyes. He looked like a spy from a bad nineteen eighties movie. I hadn’t wanted anyone to see him with me. Secrets are best kept by those that don’t know them. I waved for him to stay where he was. Thankfully he understood the gesture. ‘So, why are you telling me now?’

  His eyes flared with surprise. ‘Because they killed Julia. I don’t know why. Maybe it was just because she wouldn’t step down and they didn’t need her. I heard she hired a couple of chaps that were not Ukrainian, so it could be just because of that.’

  I grimaced.

  ‘You have to help me. All I need is some hard evidence that I can use. Something tangible I can take to the police.’ He had locked my eyes with his, his expression desperate. Then they widened again. ‘Oh, God. It’s him.’ He squeaked.

  As the colour drained from Alex’s face, I turned to see what had scared him. Looking menacing just by standing still, Danylo Vakhno was staring directly at us. His blocky frame and head even more impressive in person than in the photograph I had seen. He was standing in the lee of the Admiral’s office building at least one hundred feet away.

  ‘I have to go.’ Alex had already started moving away. ‘Evidence, Mr Michaels. I need evidence.’ Then he was out of range for me to say anything without shouting. I had wanted to ask him about the tunnels. If I were the CEO of a place, I would expect to know everything there was about it. Accepting that it was now too late to quiz him, I looked back at Danylo Vakhno. He stared at me for a few seconds more, then he turned and went out of sight behind the building.

  It felt a lot colder on the Dockside suddenly. I shivered. He was a person I really didn’t want to have to fight. Ever.

  Joseph caught my eye, checking it was now okay for him to approac
h. I waved him over.

  I knew he was going to ask, so I started talking before he could. ‘That was Alex Jordan, the CEO of the firm that runs the Dockyard. He is concerned that the Ukrainian presence here is up to no good and would like for us to find some incriminating evidence.’

  ‘He doesn’t know what they are up to?’

  ‘He claims that he doesn’t. Always difficult to tell when people are lying, and they rarely tell the whole truth no matter what the circumstances.’ I changed tack. ‘Have you had a good look around?’

  He nodded. ‘I wasn’t able to hear anything in the rigging room, there are too many people in there making noise, but I have memorised the layout and I am ready to infiltrate the underground base.’

  Infiltrate an underground base? He sounded like James Bond.

  ‘I need to talk with the gentlemen waiting over there.’ I gestured toward Alan and the chaps.

  As I started toward them, Joseph grabbed my arm, ‘We shouldn’t involve civilians in our mission.’

  Our mission?

  I looked at his hand on my arm meaningfully. He removed it. ‘Those gentlemen are colleagues of my father. I have questions for them. Specifically, whether they know anything about tunnels under this place.’

  ‘Are you sure we should be involving them? How do you know you can trust them?’

  I started to retort that he was being ridiculous. Before I could speak though, I remembered some of the recent subterfuge I had encountered during other cases. Instead of arguing I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I choose to though. Like I said, they are friends of my father and that is good enough for me.’

  I didn’t wait to hear what he thought of that. Turning, I walked toward Alan. The dogs had been sitting still long enough in their opinion, instantly pulling at their leads to get to the next destination.

  ‘Who’s your friend?’ Alan asked, always the spokesperson for the group, he was looking beyond me to Joseph as he sidled nervously along, keeping to the shadows and contours of the buildings to stay invisible. He looked like a moron.

  ‘This is Detective Sergeant Joseph Kushnir.’ I introduced him as he caught up with me.

  ‘Don’t use my real name.’ He squeaked.

  ‘Bit late now lad.’ Alan pointed out.

  It had become quickly obvious that poor Joseph was in over his head. What training and experience he had I couldn’t tell. I assumed it was minimal though. I was going to have to use him only for communicating with CI Quinn. He could relay instructions and information if there came a point when I learned anything useful.

  I addressed the four old Navy boys. ‘What do you know about tunnels under the Dockyard?’

  ‘Tunnels?’ Fred repeated.

  The four men looked at each other, each as equally mystified as the others. They had no idea.

  ‘There are tunnels beneath the Dockyard. The first was dug more than three-hundred years ago. They link with the river somewhere and can be accessed in at least two other points, I believe.’ They were staring at me with rapt fascination, wanting to disbelieve, but seeing that it instantly explained some things. ‘The Ukrainians are up to something here. Something criminal, I just don’t know what, but the point is, the whispers you can here in the rigging room are the voices of people below ground. The noise is travelling up what I guess are ventilation pipes.’

  ‘Where are the entrances?’ Asked Stuart.

  ‘That is the thing I don’t know. I have a map but all it shows is the layout. It was drawn with some artistic license so there is no scale one might use to locate the way in. The entrances must be within the buildings though.’

  The chaps looked at the building behind me, probably searching their memories for anything that might fit what I had described.

  ‘You guys know of anything that fits the bill?’ Alan asked his friends. They all shook their heads. ‘No, me neither. Sorry, kid. We’re not much help on this one.’

  It was what I had expected. ‘Not to worry, chaps.’

  ‘I will find the way in.’ Announced Joseph. He was standing so close to my shoulder I had to turn to look at him. He still had his collar turned right up and his dark glasses on. ‘Give me a few hours. I will find the entrance. The Chief Inspector deployed me to bust this gang, so that’s what I am going to do.’

  Joseph was over-excited and playing out some kind of secret agent fantasy. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, or what to do with him. He was fast becoming an unnecessary distraction though.

  ‘Joseph, these are dangerous people. They probably killed Julia Jones and have run off most of the English staff here. If they catch you, they will not let you go. We need to tackle this in a coordinated fashion, not rush in and get caught.’

  ‘I am surprisingly well trained, Mr Michaels.’ He tried to make it sound like he had Chuck Norris level fighting skills, but he was just coming off as youthful and stupid.

  ‘Nevertheless, we will be more successful if you and I operate together. I have someone looking for the river entrance already. We can monitor and observe on land. The way into the underground system is here, we just need to find it. There will be signs if we look for them.’

  ‘Won’t that take too long?’ He was positively vibrating with nervous energy. I had to question whether I had ever been that gung-ho.

  ‘It will be slower than storming the buildings and demanding to know what their evil plan is, yes. If the stairs down to the tunnels are inside the buildings that are not accessible by the Dockyard visitors, we would have to break in or sneak in just to take a look around. That is something I might be able to do tomorrow night on my cleaning shift. There are a lot of buildings to cover though.’

  ‘What are you proposing then? We stand around and watch, while under our feet criminals commit crimes and get away with it?’ There was impatience in his voice. He wanted to be the hero, to save the day and get the medal.

  ‘For now, yes. Think about it. If your Chief Inspector had sufficient evidence that there were criminal enterprises occurring beneath the Dockyard, he would descend on this place with a taskforce of officers, storm the buildings, find the way in and arrest everyone. He hasn’t though because we don’t actually know anything.’

  Deflated, his shoulders slumped as he accepted that I was right.

  Joseph appeared to have calmed down but I still felt mired in difficulties. I had the unexpected but very welcome support of the police for the first time ever, but until I could deliver them something tangible to prove the Ukrainians were using the space beneath the Dockyard as a criminal headquarters, Quinn would not move. I was certain they were down there, but until I could find a way in to take some pictures or video I was stumped. Even getting into the buildings I believed might house the stairs down to the underground chambers was fraught with difficulty. Each building was filled with people and guarded. At night I might be able to move unrestricted, but the buildings were locked. I was content to break in but could not be sure that if caught I would be turned over to the police. It was an organised gang of criminals – there seemed a distinct chance they would just kill me and make my body disappear.

  I got no further with my thoughts as my phone rang. Caller ID told me my mother was on the line.

  ‘Mother.’ I answered.

  ‘Tempest!’ Her voice was filled with panic. My adrenalin spiked instantly, and my head filled with imagined misadventures she might have encountered. ‘It’s your sister. The baby is coming!’

  ‘Oh.’ I replied, my pulse returning to normal. ‘Okay. Are you off to the hospital with her?’

  ‘Tempest this is not the time for being calm.’ She snapped. ‘How fast can you get here?’

  My brow furrowed. ‘Get where? Are you at home?’

  ‘Yes!’ Her voice was beginning to concern me. My mother was given to dramatic notions, she often made more of a situation than was necessary, but she was upset and worried, her agitation obvious.

  ‘Do you need me? Why not call an ambulance?’

  A torre
nt of swearwords split the background noise on the phone. My sister was having a contraction. I didn’t know what that was like to experience, and had never seen it up close, however, the TV and film people liked to portray it as an uncomfortable event. I doubted they were all hamming it up.

  ‘We need you.’ Mum insisted and then she was gone, the line dead in my ear.

  ‘Problem?’ Alan asked.

  ‘The baby is coming.’ I answered absentmindedly. I was thinking about what I was going to do. I checked my watch again. It was 1130hrs. I had more than four hours before I needed to get to Brands Hatch for the start of Jagjit’s stag party. I wasn’t going to miss it, but I wondered how much time would get eaten up taking my sister to the hospital. Did I need to stay with her? Or was it okay to just drop her at the door and wish her luck?

  I had a nasty feeling my best-laid plans were about to get torched.

  Alan said, ‘Congratulations.’ moving in close to shake my hand, a universal reaction to the announcement of a birth. Alan had misunderstood me though, or rather, I hadn’t expressed myself clearly.

  ‘Sorry, no. It’s not my baby. It’s my sister that’s in labour.’

  Alan pumped my hand anyway. ‘That means our pal Michael Michaels is just about to get another grandchild. That’s something to celebrate.’

  I couldn’t argue.

  ‘Are you leaving?’ Joseph asked.

  ‘I guess so. I can’t imagine what I am needed for but my other engagement will prevent my return today.’

  ‘Well, don’t worry. I will handle things here. Leave it to me to find the way into their lair.’ He saw my reaction and raised his hands in supplication. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t do anything daft, I won’t break in anywhere and if I do work out where the entrance is, I will observe only.’ He got an A for enthusiasm, it was misguided though and likely to get him into trouble.

  ‘I think it would be far safer if you start your shifts here tomorrow when there will be three of us.’

  ‘Nonsense, Mr. Michaels. The Chief Inspector’s instructions were clear. Besides, I am Ukrainian, they will welcome me with open arms.’