Cut to the Chase (47 page)

Wainwright wasn't certain whether Kalim would have the idea of including Ben Wakefield in his disposal plans, after the, hopefully, overheard telephone conversation they may deem that Ben also knew too much. This meant that if Kalim was going to make a move it may not be until after the car appeared on the scene, though they had to be on their guard all day. Trying to read Kalim's mind was not an easy task.

Galvin and Enderby appeared to be resigned to a long wait. Galvin went to sleep while Enderby remained very much wide awake. Wallace took the occasional turn on the deck, walking around the narrow ledge at the side of the cabin area to the stern and then back to the bow. There was a small landing stage where the boat was moored, nothing very elaborate and it looked as if it was an unauthorised construction put together by anglers. It was constructed on the bank and did not protrude into the water.

There was a radio propped on the shelf above the small stove, occasionally a transmission was made as the watchers outside called each other, once or twice the boat call sign was called and Enderby answered it. The exchanges were very brief, being mainly limited to the words ‘All clear!'

Apart from that Wallace heard and saw very little. An occasional motor vehicle passed along the road, they may or may not have been significant, if Wallace heard one approaching he made sure he was on the deck and in full view.

Other canal boats passed by, some of them were pleasure craft and there were one or two commercial barges. As the commercial barges went by the man at the tiller usually gave a solemn wave to which Wallace responded. He eyed them carefully but they seemed to be genuine, they all had their company name emblazoned on the side like Fred Hackett's craft.

Wallace heard a buzzing sound which came to an abrupt halt, and far astern, about 150 metres or so he could see a small motorised rubber dinghy. A man in a slouch hat was sitting in it with a fishing rod and as Wallace watched, the fisherman began casting his rod out while the dinghy hovered in the middle of the canal. Being a canal, there was no current to speak of and the wind was at a minimum.

The other craft were small private craft; this was not unusual as the canals had many of those traversing their waters. Wallace knew now that these craft were one of the saviours of the canal system and over the years had created a demand that resulted in many abandoned canals being re-opened for tourist traffic. These passing craft seemed innocent enough.

A four wheel drive vehicle drew up on the other side of the canal and three men tumbled out of it, which caused a muffled exchange from down below as Enderby was advised of their presence by other watchers. They unloaded some equipment and began trimming some of the undergrowth. One of them looked at Wallace, nodded and gave a wave of the hand and he replied in kind. They had parked their small truck about 30 yards down the canal and started work in that area.

At around midday Enderby gave Galvin a shake and they swopped places, Wallace made a pot of tea that went down well as they had a brief conversation before Enderby lay back and fell asleep.

The work on the bank was still progressing. The men loaded some of their handiwork onto the back of the four wheel drive, took a break with thermos flasks and sandwiches and then continued working. They were tipped off that more vehicles were approaching so Wallace took another turn on the deck and walked around the outer limits of the deck from bow to stern. Vehicles passed by, they seemed innocuous enough and Wallace wasn't aware of any one of them slowing for a better look.

When he returned to the cabin, to relieve boredom and also to relieve his bladder in the small head in the bow, he could hear Galvin talking to someone on the radio which sounded like Wainwright. The latter was sounding impatient, and was clearly wondering whether the whole exercise was a waste of time. Galvin was non-committal, he wasn't involved in the decision making process anyway, but it was clearly useful for Wainwright to bounce ideas off somebody if nothing else.

Wallace took another turn on the deck, the four wheel drive was loaded up with more undergrowth and tree branches and one of the men clambered aboard and drove off, leaving the other two still working. They had worked their way up to and slightly beyond the craft; they were about 20-30 feet ahead of it on the opposite bank, and still trimming straggling bushes.

The radio began again, there must be more activity elsewhere, then Wallace heard the four wheel drive returning and it parked alongside the bush clearers. This time it was accompanied by a small covered truck. The third man alighted from the four wheel drive and began assisting the other two. They gathered the fruits of their labour and heaped it behind the second vehicle, ready to load it aboard. The driver of the second truck assisted them.

Wallace could hear a conversation below, so ambled slowly below to hear what was going on. Galvin was chatting to someone, it appeared to be routine and he ended the transmission. He looked up as Wallace squeezed in, and gave a brief nod and a shrug.

‘Nothing much happening,' he said. ‘That's how it goes with this job. All quiet and then…bingo!'

He grinned broadly and Wallace smiled back, somewhat uneasily.

‘Are we calling it off for the day?' Wallace asked.

‘No, we're bringing the car into the equation,' said Galvin and turned to Enderby who had just stirred and opened his eyes. ‘Wakey wakey, Mark, they're moving the car. It will be appearing on the road soon. Harry, you'll have to keep an eye open for it. One of our lads will get out of it and approach this boat, the boss wasn't sure whether they'd ever sighted your mate Wakefield, but our bloke is about the same size – built like the legendary brick shit-house.'

They all chuckled dutifully, and Wallace prepared to go back on deck again. He felt a thrill of adrenalin as both of his companions checked their weapons and then he shuddered at the thought that bullets could start flying. Not for the first time he soundly cursed Bramble and his cheerful offhand description of what he had wanted him to do in Jakarta. Then he thought of Elsie…dear avaricious Elsie who was still under the impression that a large legacy could be coming her way. As he clambered up the few steps to the deck he actually entertained a brief kind thought about Bramble – as he visualised Elsie's face when the awful truth was brought home to her.

‘Up yours, bloody Elsie,' Wallace muttered to myself, and found he was grinning broadly. There was the sound of a car engine and the government vehicle came slowly up the road and the driver alighted. Wallace had to admit that their choice of a Ben lookalike wasn't bad, facially there was no resemblance, but the physique was about right. If he hadn't known that Ben was still at Knowle with Colin Rolands he would certainly had needed a second or third look to ascertain that it really wasn't Ben.

Wallace noticed that the fisherman was starting to pack up his rods; obviously he'd had enough for the day. He had opened a container in the stern of the craft and was hauling in his rods. His rods were hanging over the stern of the craft and he busied himself with his container in the stern, presumably readying it for his rods. Wallace was aware of a buzzing sound and the craft began to move. There was still the one man in it; he solemnly raised a hand in salute as he passed by. He was wearing sunglasses and a floppy hat with a wide brim.

‘Silly bugger!' Wallace said to himself. ‘He's losing his rods.'

The craft gained speed and Wallace lost sight of the rods as it moved front on and ambled towards the boat. Then it veered to the right, eased to a halt alongside the opposite bank near where the bush trimmers were working. As he did so it looked as if he'd realised his rods were not fully aboard and was attending to them.

Then suddenly things began to happen. The rear of the second vehicle burst open and three men emerged, they were dressed in fatigues. They raced down the bank, boarded the dinghy, which suddenly veered to its left, did a left about “U” turn and then headed straight for the barge. Wallace barely had time to register what was happening when it swished alongside and three men clambered aboard. The width of the canal was such that they crossed it in a matter of seconds.

‘What the hell?' Wallace ejaculated. He was standing at the bow of the craft, and tried to run astern, as luck would have it he tripped in the panic and stumbled headlong, literally falling into the cockpit at the rear. He heard a brief exchange on the radio as he fell heavily onto the deck, then rough hands grabbed him and forced him back onto the deck as he tried to raise himself. He had time to see that the third assailant had jumped off the boat and had tackled the Ben Wakefield look alike to the ground.

‘Hallo again, Mr fucking Wallace, you have something that belongs to us,' a voice said that Wallace recognised as Fino's and it was no surprise that he gave Wallace's arm an exploratory twist as he secured his wrists with handcuffs. Wallace looked up as he turned him over, the cuffs chafed Wallace's wrists while the second man stood over him with a gun in his arms.

Fino's face broke into a triumphant grin and he slapped Wallace across the face with the back of his hand which caused him to see stars. Fino looked up at his companion.

‘This is the bastard,' he said. ‘I have plans for him when we get him back, give me a hand.'

I
n future days when Wallace thought back he considered that of all the events and happenings experienced by him over those two or three weeks, what evolved next must have been one of the more pleasurable. Fino's companion he remembered vaguely, having seen him before possibly at the house at Albrighton and certainly during the hectic escape sequence. He thought he could have been one of the men peering over the bridge when he and McKay were on the goods train. He was standing stock still. His eyes were fixed at a point where the cabin door lay, his mouth was open and he seemed paralysed.

‘Come on!' Fino snarled impatiently as he looked up at his companion. ‘Give me a hand with this bastard…!'

This was the point when Fino became aware that his colleague's attention was distracted elsewhere, he turned his head so that he was looking in the same direction. So did Wallace.

Galvin and Enderby were standing together in the open doorway to the cabin, both were cradling their guns in their arms, one gun barrel was pointing at Fino, and the other at his companion.

‘What the fuck…!' was all that Fino could manage as he slowly stood up. His face was a picture; the expression of pleasurable triumph was slowly replaced by surprise, then horror as the ramifications of the situation slowly percolated through.

‘Drop it!' Galvin snapped to the man with the gun.

‘Who…who are you?'

‘Me? I'm the fella who's giving you the orders,' Galvin replied conversationally. ‘I'll introduce myself formally when you've put the gun down…NOW!'

There was a clatter as the gun dropped to the deck and Enderby moved forward, he gave Fino a jab in the midriff.

‘Back, the two of you, back and then lie on the deck…pronto!'

They acquiesced. The expression on Fino's face was still one that Wallace would treasure to the end of his days. On the bank the tackler had been startled when his opponent had abruptly countered and he had been thrown violently onto his back. As he scrambled to his feet a right hook deposited him back onto the ground and he was then secured by two more men who emerged from the government vehicle.

There was a buzzing sound from amidships and the dinghy abruptly shot away from the back end of the barge and headed off. Wallace didn't see it go, but he was aware of the engine noise. His wrists were still secured behind his back as Enderby gave him a hand up; Wallace quickly moved over towards Fino and kicked him hard. He had been intending to kick him in the ribs, but was unable to aim properly and instead the business end of his shoe struck Fino's hip bone, which on reflection was probably more painful. Wallace heard him grunt with pain, which was music to his ears.

‘All right, all right!' Galvin pulled him away. ‘Take it easy, we'll deal with him now.'

He ran through Fino's pockets and produced a key for the handcuffs and Wallace felt an overwhelming relief as they were slipped from his wrists.

‘One favour,' Wallace said to Galvin, who inclined his head sideways and raised an eyebrow.

‘Let me put them on the bastard,' Wallace said. Galvin grinned broadly and nodded.

‘He's all yours,' he said. He prodded Fino with his gun and ordered him to place his hands behind his back. Wallace then clambered onto his back, dug his knee into the small of his back and secured his wrists. Thinking back, Wallace considered he may have been guilty of cowardice as the man was already secured and covered by two armed men, but his behaviour towards Wallace when he was a captive had been no better. Wallace felt he was owed that after Fino's treatment of him when he was in that attic.

Fino was pulled to his feet and he glowered at Wallace furiously as he was escorted from the boat. Wallace eyed him levelly, but made no comment. To see him being manhandled off was enough. He wondered where Tara, Juan and Kalim were, as he watched the dinghy disappear up the canal at a fast rate, it struck him that the dinghy man could have been Juan.

Wallace could hear the radio going again and Galvin pressed it to his ear.

‘Roger!' he said. ‘We're on our way.'

‘What's happening now?' Wallace asked.

‘The man on the bank, he said something to Jack Sands, who was impersonating your friend Ben. He said something about his sister.'

‘Liz!' Wallace went cold all over. ‘He said something about Ben's sister?'

‘Yes, come on, we've got to get going.'

‘But it's miles away.'

‘For some, yes, but not for others,' said Galvin laconically.

Fino was escorted to a van which had drawn up, while Galvin, Enderby and McKay scrambled into the government vehicle with Wallace in the back seat, and drove off.