Lost Voyage Read online

  The smell of coffee wafted up to him. Though Helen might look and behave tough and resilient, it was just a front. Behind the façade was a fragile woman with a broken, sorrowful past. Perhaps she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Whatever it was that had driven her to call him, it was clear she needed help. Maybe he shouldn’t have left her alone so soon after the trauma of facing up to her sister’s murder, but it had been her decision to go away.

  She put a mug of coffee on the table behind him and clutched hers with both hands. They were almost at the entrance to Newhaven Harbour but Marvik stopped the boat and dropped the anchor. She’d discarded the sailing jacket and was wearing a black zip-up fleece which sported a logo and a name he didn’t recognize – Aquamarine Cleaning. She saw him looking.

  ‘It’s a boat-cleaning company. I work for them, or rather I did until last night. Yeah, I decided I liked boats after being force-fed them with you and Shaun. Been doing any more of that James Bond stuff lately?’ she asked, sipping her coffee.

  ‘Some,’ he said, lightly thinking of his last mission.

  She eyed him closely. ‘And Shaun? You still working with him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She nodded, as though he’d given her the correct answer, and resumed, ‘I lost my job in that crummy call centre near Southampton on account of not phoning in or showing up for work when we were, well, you know, finding Esther’s killer.’

  ‘Did you tell them what had happened? They might have been sympathetic.’

  She snorted derisively. ‘You must be kidding! The management doesn’t know the meaning of the word and I certainly wasn’t going to tell them my personal business. I was glad they sacked me – or rather, before they could I told them they could poke their rubbish job. The lease on that crappy house was up and I decided to go to Eastbourne.’

  ‘Why there?’

  ‘Why not?’

  Marvik let that pass. After a moment, she expanded.

  ‘I saw this job advertised online for a telephone sales clerk in a book wholesalers. I was offered it and started almost immediately. I got myself a small flat, a shitty bedsit actually, but the job was so dull that I thought I’d rather be dead. Then one of the tenants in my building said the company he worked for, Aquamarine Cleaning, was looking for people to clean boats. I said I’d had plenty of experience on boats. Well, it wasn’t a lie.’

  It certainly wasn’t.

  ‘When I went for the job, Ian Bradshaw, the boss, said he’d already filled the vacancy. I thought that was it but the next day I got a call from him. He said someone had left and would I like to start, on a trial basis – casual to begin with. I chucked in the sales job – well, walked out actually. They didn’t stop me and I started at Aquamarine the next day. That was a fortnight ago yesterday.’ She took a draught of her coffee. Marvik thought she was using the time to gather her thoughts and, from her expression, they didn’t seem to be pleasant ones.

  She continued, ‘It was going OK. Then, yesterday afternoon, Ian Bradshaw said he’d like to see me. He said he thought I had potential and all that crap. Yeah, the only potential he was interested in was between my legs. Like an idiot, I believed him and agreed to meet him on his boat. OK, so I was naive,’ she tossed at him as though he’d spoken. He didn’t think his expression had betrayed his thoughts. ‘Bradshaw tried it on and I told him to sod off. He said I was sacked. I said I wouldn’t want to work for a wanker like him anyway. I left the boat but as I turned on to the pontoon heading back to the boardwalk I heard these two men on board one of the boats talking.’ She swallowed her coffee before continuing. ‘One of them said, “It’s dealt with. The target’s been taken out”. The other man said, “How?” The reply was: “You don’t need to know that. Don’t worry, there’ll be no comeback”.’

  Marvik frowned. ‘Are you sure you heard this?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure! I wouldn’t be telling you otherwise.’

  ‘It wasn’t a television you heard?’

  ‘OK, so you don’t believe me.’ She made to rise but the confines of the table prevented her.

  Marvik said, ‘I didn’t say that. I’m just exploring possibilities.’

  ‘I’m not stupid, Art. I can tell the difference between real speech and a TV programme.’

  ‘I’m sorry. But that sort of language implies—’

  ‘A murder, I know. Why do you think I called you? You’re in the Marines.’

  ‘Not any longer.’

  ‘Anyway, I must have made a noise or they had a feeling someone was on the pontoon because it suddenly went quiet. I got scared. I didn’t fancy being the next target so I dived on to the boat beside me, opposite them. It was a fishing boat. I climbed inside the locker along the side of the cockpit and hid.’

  She took a breath. Marvik could see she was reliving the fear of it. Her hands were gripping the sides of the cup, her purple varnished nails were bitten to the quick and he noticed there was a sliver of blood on the right-hand sleeve of her fleece. His concern for her deepened. There was still the possibility that she had fabricated this story. Or perhaps she genuinely believed she had heard these men and dived on to the fishing boat because her mind had told her she had to find a way of making contact with him and Strathen.

  She sniffed. ‘I felt a movement on the pontoon and heard footsteps. I didn’t even dare to breathe. I was terrified they’d find me. Then I heard one of them say, “All clear. Must have been the wind or a bird”. I stayed put until I heard them leave the marina.’

  ‘On foot?’

  ‘No, by boat. Two boats left.’

  ‘What time was this?’

  ‘About nine thirty. It could have been later. It was dark. I climbed off the fishing boat and walked to my flat, and I’m telling you it’s a bloody long way from that marina stuck out on the edge of town to Harold Road where I live. I didn’t want that shit-heap Bradshaw to come after me or those men to turn back in their boats and follow me, but I got the feeling I was being followed.’

  ‘Go on,’ he encouraged when she faltered.

  ‘I thought I must be imagining it. I told myself that it was a legacy of my days with you. Perhaps you trained me too well. But when I got to the house I still felt as though someone was there. I let myself into my flat and went to the window. There was someone hanging about in the doorway of the opposite building. It spooked me. I wasn’t going to stick around to find out if I was going to be another “target”. I got out quick. I thought about knocking on Gavin’s door. The guy who I work with. The one who lives in the same building as me. But I didn’t. I climbed out of the window on to the fire escape. It comes out into a small backyard and there’s a side entrance leading around to the front next to a convenience shop. I made for the seafront. I thought the only people who would believe me would be you and Shaun. So I called you.’

  What did Marvik make of her story?

  ‘I’m not making this up,’ she hotly declared, misinterpreting his silence.

  ‘I never said you were.’

  ‘You look as though you think I am.’

  ‘Were those two boats on the pontoon when you went on board Bradshaw’s boat?’

  She frowned as she tried to recall. ‘I wasn’t really taking any notice. I didn’t hear them arrive, so they must have been.’

  ‘What time did you arrive on Bradshaw’s boat?’

  ‘Just before nine o’clock.’

  So if they had been there what had the occupants been doing for ninety minutes while Helen was on board with Bradshaw? Taking out this target? Or perhaps one of them had.

  ‘Did you get the name of the boats?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I climbed off the fishing boat and asked them. ’Course I didn’t.’

  ‘OK, so we’ll get them now and their arrival and departure times.’ Marvik let up the anchor.

  ‘How?’

  ‘We go back to Eastbourne.’

  ‘But it’s nearly four o’clock.’

  ‘Which means the night-duty lock-k
eeper and the marina night-duty manager will still be there and can tell us.’ He started the engine and began to swing the boat round.

  ‘You still don’t believe me, do you?’

  ‘What were the boats like?’

  ‘They were both modern motor cruisers. One was larger than the other but they both had a fly bridge, sleeker than this boat and Shaun’s, the flashier speedboat kind. The type you sit on deck and sip a gin and tonic, or so I’m told. I’ve never had the chance.’

  ‘Did they have canvas awnings over the cockpits?’

  ‘Yes, both of them, dark blue. I didn’t see the men so I can’t give you a description.’

  ‘We’ll check it out. Then we’ll go back to your flat and make sure no one’s staking it out.’

  ‘Don’t bother. You think I’ve cracked up. Just drop me off then you can bugger off. I can see I’ve wasted your time.’

  But Marvik ignored her.

  TWO

  Tuesday

  ‘Two boats came in last night within ten minutes of each other just after seven thirty,’ the lock-keeper relayed over the radio as Marvik entered the lock.

  Helen flashed Marvik a look that said, See, didn’t I tell you.

  ‘The first, Merry Maid, was a Sealine F46.’

  Which Marvik knew to be a large and expensive motor cruiser.

  ‘The second was a Princess 45, called Sunrise.’

  Equally large but possibly not as pricey.

  ‘They locked out at nine thirty-five p.m.’

  That bore out what Helen had said. The lock-keeper didn’t have the boat owners’ names but the marina duty manager might be able to give them that information. Marvik thanked him and moored up where he had picked up Helen earlier. He asked her to remain on board while he made for the marina office. ‘Just in case one of those guys did see you and returns and starts asking questions about you.’

  ‘If he does then he’ll soon be able to identify me.’ She pointed at her hair. ‘And most if not all the marina staff know me, given that I work here.’

  But she did as he asked and stayed put. Perhaps fatigue was finally wearing her down. Marvik was back within a few minutes.

  ‘James Colbourne was the skipper on the Merry Maid and George Marwell on Sunrise, but the duty manager only saw Colbourne – heavy-set, muscular, about forty. He said he was meeting Marwell and they’d only be staying for a short time. They paid cash.’ Marvik had spun a yarn that he had been due to meet them but had been delayed, hence his very late arrival. He didn’t mention that he’d locked in earlier and the man in the marina office didn’t query it. He probably hadn’t noticed, or, if he had, thought it not his place to pry.

  So far that corroborated Helen’s story, and the payment of cash, while not necessarily suspicious in itself, added a little more credence to what she had said. There was still the possibility that she had invented the conversation as a cry for help. He’d also paid cash for the berth and had told the duty officer that he wasn’t sure how long he’d be staying.

  Marvik asked Helen where Bradshaw’s boat was moored.

  ‘Just down there.’ She pointed to a pontoon that was not far from where Marvik was moored, adding, ‘And those other two boats were just further along from yours, almost opposite the pontoon where Ian Bradshaw’s boat is.’

  ‘Let’s take a look.’ Marvik was keen to see the layout because something Helen had told him earlier didn’t quite add up.

  They set off along the pontoon. Across the marina, the restaurants and shops were shut and only a few lights glimmered in the houses and flats surrounding them. Insomniacs or early risers, Marvik thought. There was no one on board any of the boats they passed and only the sound of the wind rattling the halyards on the yachts disturbed them.

  The pontoon where Bradshaw’s boat was moored formed a T-junction with the one Colbourne and Marwell had been on. They turned on to it and Helen halted by a sizeable motor cruiser three boats down on the left-hand side facing out on to the marina rather than on to the boardwalk to their far right. It was a modern four-berth cruiser with a fly bridge and from what Marvik knew of these boats had two cabins. It was about ten years old. He didn’t know how long Bradshaw had owned it but Marvik estimated it would have set him back about eighty thousand pounds. As he had expected, the boat was shut up.

  ‘Was Bradshaw on board when you arrived?’

  ‘Yes, the canvas awning was open and he came up on deck.’

  ‘You called out to him?’

  ‘No. He must have heard me. He had a glass of red wine in his hand and offered me one as I climbed on the boat. I don’t much go for the stuff, but it was on offer and he was the boss. Then he asked me to take a seat in the cabin. Big bloody mistake, because then I was stuck behind a fixed table on a bench seat and you know how awkward it is to get out from them on a boat, quickly. The slimy toad came and sat next to me, started pawing me. I told him to keep his hands to himself.’ Her brow furrowed as she obviously recalled the incident.

  ‘And did he?’

  ‘No.’ Her face flushed and she glared at him. ‘I scratched the bastard’s face and while he was cursing and trying to fumble for a handkerchief or tissue I managed to slide out of the seat at the opposite end. He was furious, calling me names. I threw a few choice ones back at him, but I had to get past him to get off the boat and he grabbed me as I tried to get round him, so I spat in his face and kicked him in the shins. He let go of me, told me I was fired. I said that was fine by me – I wouldn’t work for a tosser like him anyway. Then he laughed and said he wouldn’t shag me if I was the last woman on earth. I told him to go screw himself because no one else would want to. I left.’

  ‘Did you look back at his boat when you were on the pontoon?’

  ‘No. I just wanted to get away. I was angry with myself rather than him.’

  Marvik headed back towards the T-junction. Helen fell into step beside him. It was only a short distance. Marvik turned left and halted where the two boats with Colbourne and Marwell on board had been moored up. The berths were currently empty. ‘OK, so you walked past the boats in the direction of the quayside and the marina office.’

  ‘I was about to when I heard the word “target”. It made me think of you and of Esther.’ She sniffed and looked away then back up at him. ‘Then they suddenly stopped talking. I freaked. That’s the boat I climbed on to hide.’ She pointed at the fishing vessel to her left.

  Marvik nodded but his mind was racing as he again considered something that had occurred to him earlier when she had first told him about the conversation. The movement of the pontoon caused by Helen’s footsteps coming from Bradshaw’s boat would have made this pontoon gently rise and fall. It must have been felt by those two men on board one of their boats and warned them that someone was approaching, so why had they continued talking? Had they thought it was just the wind over the water in the marina that was causing the movement? Perhaps. Or perhaps they’d been so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t noticed until the movement ceased when Helen stopped and one of them heard or sensed someone outside. Had she really heard anything? Was Ian Bradshaw’s pass at her genuine? Or had she fabricated both? Perhaps she’d seen the boats arrive and had spun him the kind of story she knew would appeal to him. Or perhaps she hadn’t been able to repel Bradshaw’s advances and something more had happened on board his boat and she was too frightened and too ashamed to tell him. It would explain why she hadn’t gone to her work colleague Gavin Yardly’s flat, because she couldn’t face telling him that Bradshaw had raped her. Marvik tensed. His stomach knotted. If that was true … If Bradshaw had laid so much as a finger on her he’d beat him to a pulp.

  ‘Are you up to walking?’ he asked. He didn’t want to hail a taxi and chance that Helen might be recognized if it came to a police matter and he was going to have to personally deal with Bradshaw.

  ‘Yeah. Good job I left my stilettos at home,’ she joked with a tired smile. She looked exhausted but Marvik knew Helen
wouldn’t admit defeat.

  They struck out towards the centre of the town, taking the most direct route which was along the deserted promenade. Marvik tensed at the thought of Helen walking this route last night, worried, scared, angry at Bradshaw, perhaps even traumatized by what had happened if it had happened. And maybe she had been too scared to stay in her flat, afraid that Bradshaw would come after her, which was why she wanted someone with her now when she returned to it. Helen was tough and streetwise but the toughness could be just an act to hide her vulnerability, and being streetwise was no protection against brute force.

  They walked in silence. He wondered what Helen was thinking but didn’t ask. Maybe she wondered what his thoughts were. It would have been difficult for him to explain because mixed up with his concern for Helen were thoughts of Sarah and the fact that her last address had been nearby and her last maritime archaeological project a wreck just off Beachy Head four miles to the west. But she had finished that and had been about to embark on a new project in Gibraltar when she’d been diverted into pursuing research of a more personal nature, into that of her father’s disappearance, when Marvik had met her in Swanage. Shortly afterwards she’d been killed. But it hadn’t been here that he had discovered his father’s notebook – it had been in a house where she had stored her possessions, not far from London. A house where he had almost been fried alive and Sarah’s possessions destroyed. Had the arsonist been after him or the notebook? Maybe both but there had been no further attempts on his life, so perhaps Crowder was wrong. Or perhaps the arsonist was biding his time.