The Pirate Club: A Highlands and Islands Detective Thriller (Highlands & Islands Detective Book 6)

by G R Jordan

  There was a rage inside that had not subsided at last night’s deception which had left the forensic hall undermanned and contributed to the stealing of the maps they had obtained, one of which would have prevented the MacPhails from completing the task.

  As the car pulled up to the station, Macleod stepped out past reporters, ignoring every request for a comment. There would be enough comments demanded by his superior if they did not solve this riddle in his hands and get the MacPhails behind bars. Inside the station, there was hush as he entered, and Macleod realised why when he saw Hope and Jona Nakamura waiting for him in his office.

  ‘Morning, sir,’ said Hope as he entered but Macleod slammed the door.

  ‘How did we manage that fiasco last night? Tell me that.’ Macleod stood by his seat, eyes fixed on the pair before him. Noting Hope’s angry face, he turned to Jona. ‘Surely maps like these should have been locked up.’

  ‘We were working, sir, and then got the call. Some of my team are medically trained to a higher standard than your officers, so we hurried to the beach. Lives were on the line.’

  ‘But we are police officers, we expect that. And you are a forensic officer; you know how damn hard we work to get this evidence—you understood the importance of it.’

  ‘With respect, sir,’ said Hope, ‘we have not stopped on this case. We are all undermanned and running on empty and this tirade is getting us nowhere. I have the teams out looking but the key is breaking that cipher.’

  ‘I have some experience in that field if you want me to look at it. There’s also Ansty; he has a background in it too. We might get on quicker than the mainland. They have other items . . .’

  ‘This is their priority,’ seethed Macleod. ‘But why not, Miss Nakamura? Just make sure the other forensic tasks are completed.’

  Jona Nakamura nodded and stood up, turning for the door. ‘And Miss Nakamura, get me a solution; see if we can stop this bolting horse before we lose the case. Otherwise there will be egg on all of us and hell to pay. Do you understand me?’

  Jona narrowed her eyes but gave a simple, single nod, almost bowing as she left. Hope stood and shut the door behind her before turning to Macleod hands on hips.

  ‘What the hell, Seoras! That poor girl has been dropped in it up to her neck and you give her the damn riot act over something that was not her fault. We didn’t protect the hall. I dropped the ball and you went racing off in a flash not waiting for back-up to people who are known murderers, and rough bastards at that. You can get off your high and mighty act and come down to earth with us mere mortals, sir!’

  The last words were almost shouted, and Macleod’s face went red. ‘Don’t ever talk to your commanding officer like that,’ he said in an even tone, but he was shaking. ‘I needed you here, McGrath, needed you to cover all the bases and you didn’t. You missed it, the one important thing not to overlook. We thought we were chasing them, but they played a trap and we were so dumb we couldn’t even spot the red herring from a mile away. That’s our job, you and me, see the big picture, cover off bases. Jona missed procedure and yes, I get she’s tired; we’re all bloody tired.’ His voice began to waver as it became more emotional.

  ‘But some of us are carrying more,’ he continued. ‘That’s why you needed to be here and not chasing leads. Don’t you get it, Stewart’s there because she can’t do this job! She can’t do my job.’

  Hope watched him collapse in his chair. ‘What’s happening, sir?’

  Macleod sat forward, rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger and then looked directly at Hope. ‘Only between you and me.’ When she nodded, he continued. ‘Hazel got a diagnosis—they suspected cancer. She called me from the hospital. She was in tears, Hope, must have been five hours if not more on and off talking. Jane’s with her in Glasgow but she wanted me. She’s a mess. They had to operate. Breast cancer, Hope. They got it but she’s not the same woman, her words, not mine. She feels like she’s lost a part of her, and she has.’

  ‘Is she stable?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I?’ spat Macleod. ‘Jane’s making sure she gets the counsellors and the medical staff today but last night it was me. I’m not cut out for that sort of intimate conversation, especially when it’s so bleak, so close to the bone.’

  ‘But why you, sir?’ asked Hope.

  ‘Because she doesn’t have anyone else. That’s what’s up, so go and get me these scum before we lose them.’

  Hope stared at her boss and swore he was almost crying. The angry commander who had rollicked Jona was gone and she saw how weak he was facing something that was clearly more personal to him than she would have thought.

  ‘She’s lucky to have you.’

  ‘Don’t, Sergeant—just get me these murderers.’

  Hope turned and exited the room quietly. She would check how the searches were going, how they were covering the beaches, making sure it was to order. But then she would see Jona, because if they could crack the cipher, they might even get ahead of things.

  The night had closed in and Hope stood watching Jona from a distance. For three hours the woman had been pouring over the cipher, occasionally swearing and waving away all onlookers. Hope had brought coffee in between talking to the search co-ordinator about how things had proceeded.

  Today they had searched the island—helicopters, people on foot, dogs, and even a RNLI lifeboat assisting before it had to disappear to a fishing boat that was taking on water. But they found nothing and with darkness falling, the search was being called off. Hope felt an emptiness at that because she knew this was the time the MacPhails would move, out of sight, wherever the treasure was located. It felt like she was describing a movie at times, all slightly surreal that someone had been sent to hide treasure, or ill-gotten gains. But that was what pirate treasure was, loot, stolen items whether by force or by subterfuge.

  Macleod’s mood had worsened throughout the day and Hope could see the pressure on his shoulders. She had taken most of the press briefings and had talked at length with Ross and Stewart about Carl Davidson and Angel Jones. The brutality of having someone killed and stowed in a wall in your house because she knew where the loot was struck Hope as something the movies would have made out to be business. But when the girl had simply completed a job as requested, to kill her seemed so cold. But Debbie MacPhail had been cold to a man who was at least interested in her body if not more of her. Stewart had been full of detail about that incident. Indeed, Hope was worried that it had scarred her colleague.

  Hope started to walk towards Jona and saw a hand being raised.

  ‘Go away, if I have it, I’ll tell you.’

  ‘Are you close?’ asked Hope. ‘All we need is Dusty’s Harbour. Or rather the right Dusty’s Harbour.’ The map obtained by Stewart had shown numerous locations all coded the same, but you needed all the maps and Dusty’s Harbour to actually locate the real haul of loot. Every map had a smaller deposit, identifiable from that map but the larger haul would have to be sought together, in life or death.

  ‘I don’t mean to be rude, Hope,’ said Jona Nakamura, her colleague’s name said in a whisper, ‘but you’re in the way. So, piss off and find something to do. When I have it, I will come to you directly. I have a mobile; you have one too. So, piss off, girlfriend.’

  Hope smiled and turned away. She had never had anyone call her friend. Lover, colleague, even wench, though he did not last long, but never friend. Maybe that was what she needed for a while—just a friend. Being a lover with Allinson was not working out so why not a friend to have fun with. Nothing sexual involved. It sounded good.

  ‘Hope.’

  She spun on hearing Jona’s voice. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Think I’ve cracked it, I really do. In fact, I cracked it twenty minutes ago, but I was checking as the words derived from the cipher made no sense. I thought I was wrong but I’m not. I think it’s another language.’

  Hope started walking over briskly. ‘What language?’

  ‘I don’t know.
I really don’t. I wondered why there were only eighteen potential letters and thought they had just condensed the English, leaving out letters they didn’t need. But it made no sense. I believe the cipher is correct, just transcribing to another language.’

  ‘Let me see.’ Hope brushed in front of Jona and stared at the letters before her. There were eighteen in the cipher. But there was no J or Z. Neither was there a K or a Q. And there was a load missing from the end of the alphabet, no V, W, X or Y. ‘Get Macleod, now! Go Jona, get him immediately.’

  Hope grabbed the maps from beside Jona’s position as the forensic officer ran from the room for the station. Unfurling all the maps, Hope placed holders on each edge and studied them hard. Then she took the copy of the map Ross had found in Inverie and looked at the places before her. The words produced by the cipher ended with Eileanan Iasgaich. Hope grabbed Jona’s computer and then typed into the mapping system on it and waited. There were close matches but only one came up as a whole name. It was a small island close to Lochboisdale on South Uist.

  But that was where Hope was lost. There were words before the place name but none made any sense to her. She felt herself jumping from foot to foot. This was it; they were so close.

  Macleod came charging through the door nearly knocking it off its hinges. ‘Where is it? What have you got?’

  ‘Jona broke the cipher, sir but it’s in Gaelic, Scot’s Gaelic, I think. It says Eileanan Iasgaich which the mapping system says is an island near Lochboisdale, but I can’t read the other words.’

  Macleod slammed his hands on the desk and looked at where Hope’s finger was pointing. ‘Centre of the cross, it says right in the centre of the cross. Pretty crassly too. Like a machine translated it. Ceart ann am meadhan na croise.’

  ‘What cross?’ asked Hope. ‘Is there like a famous cross on that island?’

  ‘Not as far as I know, but then I’ve never been on that island. It is the south of the Hebrides. It’s catholic down here, not Presbyterian like Lewis, so it is possible.’

  Hope punched the words cross and Eileanan Iasgaich into the Google and awaited the result. ‘There’s nothing in here other than a reference to the islands, an archipelago apparently. But no cross.’

  Jona was looking over her shoulder where the image of the archipelago was still on the screen beside the search result. ‘There,’ said Jona, ‘right there is your cross. It’s the water between the west side of the islands. So, put the instructions on top of that found in the other maps.’ She held firm as Hope tried to muscle in but Jona was having none of it. Macleod looked on in anticipation as the woman took out an OS map and began drawing on grids and lines of distance from the centre of the cross. He could see the water between the small islands, could see the cross shape, upside down and slightly squint to the left but was rapidly losing what Jona was doing beyond that. There was a criss-cross and stepping about as she followed the instructions from each map but then she marked a spot with a pencil and simply ringed it.

  ‘That small jut of land west of Eolaigearraidh, at the top of Barra. That’s your point, detectives. That’s your treasure.’ With a quick cross of the pencil, she indicated the spot further and announced, ‘X marks the spot.’

  Chapter 23

  ‘Bring the map, Miss Nakamura. McGrath, get the car; I’ll make the call.’

  Hope saw Macleod race out the front door, still wearing his long coat. Outside, she could hear rain and it was starting to hammer down. Jona was folding up her map and reaching for a short waterproof coat as Hope grabbed her own leather jacket. She could have done with her long overcoat on a night like this but there was no time to lose.

  Outside, Macleod grabbed the officer on guard duty for the hall and furnished him with the details of the situation and instructed him to get to the station and send backup to the recently discovered treasure site. Inside of a minute, the information was passed and Macleod turned to see a car with Hope at the wheel. Behind them, Jona exited the community hall and turned to lock up.

  ‘Leave that,’ said Macleod.

  ‘But you said . . .’

  ‘I know, Miss Nakamura, but we need to go. This is it, we miss them here, we probably miss them for good. Get in.’

  Jona flung open the rear door and climbed in as Macleod took his seat at the front. As the doors closed, Hope opened up the accelerator and the car sped off through Castlebay and out towards the east side of the island. The roads out of the village were single track and with the driving rain and dark night, the conditions were becoming treacherous. Coupled with the trees along the road at Brevaig, Hope had to focus completely on her driving.

  Turning to their colleague in the rear of the car, Macleod pointed at the map. ‘Find the best place to stop. I take it we can’t just park up beside the burial site. So, get us a nearest point for McGrath to park at.’

  At Northbay, Hope took the road that broke the circular path of the island and they raced past the beach where the Twin Otter aircraft brought passengers to the island every day when the tide allowed it to land. It couldn’t land now as the tide was fully in and with the howling wind, landing would be something of an art form for the brave and foolhardy. The road continued and there was a sudden flash of light which lit up the bay beyond them.

  ‘Have you no long coat with you?’ asked Macleod of Hope.

  ‘We were in a rush, sir.’

  ‘Do you want mine?’

  ‘And leave you to freeze? Besides, I can’t fight in your coat, and one of us needs to be able to apprehend them.’

  Macleod shook his head. ‘No, we go silently, find them and await backup. If this is the place, where can they go except the road.’

  ‘The sea, sir, they could always go to the sea.’

  ‘Did you see the bay? It’s a high tide and the waves are piling in. They’d be mad.’

  ‘Or desperate.’

  The conversation ceased and Hope turned left taking the car through Eoligarry and then Eolaigearraidh. The route had houses smattered along it and the road was tight. At one point, a car came the other way and Hope swerved at a speed she would have thought reckless to avoid it, swinging through a passing place designed for cars to halt and let others through. Macleod said nothing but he could hear the gasp from Jona in the rear of the car.

  As they cleared Eolaigearraidh and reached a sharp bend in the road, Jona cried out for Hope to stop. ‘Here, this is where we want. I think it’s over that way, towards the sea.’

  Macleod looked out through the rapid wipers of the car and spotted a vehicle parked well off the road. It was a 4x4 and maybe it was one they had stolen. Either way it was parked somewhere ridiculous for the night they were having.

  ‘Miss Nakamura, you stay here and point the cavalry our way but tell them to make it a silent approach.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t need me?’ asked Jona, but her voice was unsure.

  ‘I need you right here. I have all the help I could want with McGrath; she knows how to handle herself in these situations.’

  Macleod thought he saw a smile from Hope, but he really wanted Hope, Stewart, and Ross with him at least and maybe another fifty constables if the truth were told. Opening the car door, he fought to get out of the car and felt his trousers becoming wet from the deluge happening around him.

  ‘Can you see all right?’ asked Hope, emerging from the driver’s side.

  ‘It’s not great but it’ll have to do,’ shouted Macleod over the rain.

  He heard a car door shut behind him and Jona Nakamura was pointing a finger past his face into the distance. ‘Follow that line and it should bring you round to where the site is. I’ll get them to follow you round that way. Don’t go up the hill as there’s a drop down from up there that you might not make.’

  Macleod held his thumb up rather than attempt an answer. Without looking back at his Asian colleague, he set off, pushing into the rain and rapidly increasing wind. Hope joined him and together they fought their way across the rocky terrain that
had a thick layer of sodden grass over it. It took at least five minutes to negotiate the initial path to the side of the hill and Macleod could hear the waves crashing against the rocky shore. His stomach tightened as he realised how remote they would be from help. It was not the first time Hope and he had been in this situation, but they would be up against far-younger foes. Maybe it would not bother Hope but for him, the days of youth were far gone and over the horizon. Where was Stewart with her martial arts skills when you needed her?

  As they rounded the hill, they saw the land beyond drop suddenly and then end in the sea. Macleod thought he heard a voice and then in the distance he saw a light, bobbing about on the water. After pointing it out to Hope, they made their way forward and then dropped to the ground when they saw a figure in the dark, piling something from the ground into rucksacks. There were spades and possibly a mattock, and a small pile of earth.

  They had not dropped down quickly enough, and Macleod saw a man shouting out to the night and a woman coming to him and picking up a rucksack.

  ‘Go,’ shouted Macleod to Hope but she was already gone. He picked himself up and ran forward seeing two figures ahead, one carrying two rucksacks and the other carrying one but moving slower. Hope was going for the faster figure, so he ran hard after the slower one, realising that it was not moving fast at all. Within a hundred yards he had caught up and dived at it. Together they crumpled to the ground, the rucksack tumbling to one side and spilling some of its contents. Even in the dark of a wild Hebridean night, he could see the jewels and ornate pieces lying on the grass and it took his breath away.

  The figure kicked out at him and he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder, but he reached up and grabbed a thigh, pulling himself on top of the figure. Whilst his strength was not that of yesteryear, he still had the weight of a grown man and he used this by pitching himself on top of what he presumed was a female figure. He heard her let go a sharp exhale and try to reach for him, but he was now fully on top of her and reaching for her arms. Taking one wrist he managed to place a handcuff on it and the woman stopped struggling. Macleod pulled the other arm to him and cuffed a second wrist. They had one, now where was Hope?