Laura Marlin Mysteries 2: Kidnap in the Caribbean (16 page)

Unfortunately Little and Large were still eating burgers in their black SUV at the time. Laura barely had a chance to say, ‘If anybody asks, he’s your dog,’ to a startled Rupert, before bedlam erupted.

Crouching on the floor of the truck, she and Tariq heard Large demand: ‘Where is the owner of this dog?’

Laura risked a peek over the dashboard. The volcanologist was not a small man, but the musclebound bodyguard dwarfed him.

Thankfully Rupert was not easily intimidated. ‘He’s my dog. Not that it’s any of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me …’

‘Do I look like a moron?’ Large boomed. ‘Nobody in the Caribbean owns huskies, especially not three-legged ones. This husky belongs to Laura Marlin. She is a treacherous fugitive who is being hunted by the authorities. Anyone who aids her risks ending up in jail alongside her.’

On the Land Rover floor, Tariq put a protective arm around Laura, but they both knew that Rupert owed them nothing. Why should he risk jail or a beating for the sake of two children he’d known for all of twenty minutes?

Thankfully Rupert’s loyalty to Joshua ran deep.

‘In answer to your first question, all I’m going to say is: Have you looked in the mirror lately? Secondly, plenty of people own huskies in the Caribbean. There’s a whole movie about a guy in Jamaica who races them. Thirdly, I’ve never heard of this Laura Marler woman. To be completely truthful, this dog was found abandoned and given to me by a friend of mine, but there’s no way I’m parting with him until I have proof of previous ownership. Lastly, and this is very important. I’ve named my dog Vesuvius and if you don’t wish to find out why, I’d advise you to step out of the way.’

Skye did his special, ‘I-eat-polar-bears-for-breakfast’ snarl. Within seconds Rupert was behind the wheel. The engine roared to life. Laura and Tariq climbed off the floor and did up their seatbelts, taking care to keep out of sight of passing traffic until they were well clear of the airport.

Rupert was the first to break the silence with his question.

When neither of them replied, he said: ‘Okay, you have two minutes to tell me who you are and what exactly is going on, or I’m taking you back to the airport.’

Tariq said: ‘I’ll explain, sir.’

Rupert gave him an exasperated look. ‘I’m not sir, I’m just plain Rupert. Go on then, spit it out.’

So Tariq told him everything. He explained about Calvin Redfern’s fall and subsequent disappearance, about the Straight A gang, and about how he and Laura were brazenly kidnapped in full view of the
Ocean Empress
passengers, captain and security manager by Celia and Sebastian LeFever. The only thing he left out was their theory about Calvin Redfern being held captive by pirates connected to Marine Concern.

Rupert gave a low whistle. ‘Well, either you’re amazing liars and I’m about to get myself in hot water for harbouring two imposters, or you’re two of the bravest kids I’ve ever met. I’m trusting my instincts that it’s the latter. I’m not sure how I can help you though. The way I see it your uncle could be anywhere in the Caribbean, Laura. What makes you think he’s on Montserrat? It would be a tough place to hide someone. The island community is very close-knit.’

‘Just a hunch.’

‘A hunch? You’ve flown all this way and almost got yourselves arrested for a hunch? You’re not brave, you’re crazy.’

‘It was a bit more than a hunch,’ Tariq admitted. ‘One of the pirates dropped something on the
Ocean Empress
that we later found out was from Montserrat.’

‘Look, you’ve no idea how grateful we are for what you’re doing for us,’ Laura said. ‘I promise you can trust us. We did escape from the LeFevers and I’m not a “treacherous fugitive”.’

Rupert kept his eyes on the road, but he was amused. ‘I’d figured as much, Laura Marlin. I rather suspect it’s the other way round. That bodyguard had the look of a wanted criminal if ever there was one.’ He glanced at the rucksack – their only luggage. ‘Now am I correct in thinking you’ve nowhere to stay?’

‘To be honest, we haven’t done much planning,’ Tariq admitted. ‘We’d appreciate it if you could point us in the right direction.’

Rupert grinned. ‘What if I pointed you in the direction of the volcano?’

They’d been travelling west towards the sea, but now the coastal road snaked south towards the distant dark shape of the Soufriere Hills. Cloud concealed the top of it. The sky behind it was burnt orange with the setting sun.

‘Just kidding,’ he said. ‘Volcanoes are my passion and I often make the mistake of thinking other people are fascinated by them too, but …’

‘I’m fascinated by them,’ said Tariq. ‘If we had more time I’d love to see this volcano up close.’

Rupert’s eyes shone. ‘Oh, you’d love my camp. It’s in the foothills of the volcano …’ He stopped. ‘No, no, no, I’m absolutely not taking you there. No, we’re going to do the sensible thing and continue along this nice tarmac road to the Blessing Guest House, the best bed and breakfast I know. There you’ll be comfortable and in safe hands. I can lend you a little money if you need it.’

Laura and Tariq looked at each other and then up at the volcano, a black silhouette against the sunset. A scene from Laura’s nightmare flashed through her mind. ‘It’s now or never,’ the Fantasy Holidays rep was saying. ‘She knows too much. Get rid of her.’

‘No!’ cried Laura.

She blinked. Tariq and Rupert were staring at her in surprise.

‘You don’t want to go to the bed and breakfast?’ Rupert asked. ‘I suppose I could try the hotel, but it’s a lot more expensive.’

Laura swallowed. ‘What I mean is, I know it’s a lot to ask, but is there any chance we could stay with you? At your camp?’

She didn’t add that the reason she was so keen to stay with him was because if his home was near the volcano, it was also near the offices of Marine Concern. That would make keeping an eye on their target a whole lot easier. Plus it would be free.

But he shook his head. ‘It’s too risky.’ He turned off the main road into a village. Banana palms waved in the dusk. The sky behind them was turning vermillion. The air was smoky with the smell of sizzling fish and roasting corn. Laura’s stomach rumbled. It seemed a long time since lunch.

‘The geoscientists at MVO – that’s the Montserrat Volcano Observatory - monitor the volcano constantly,’ Rupert was saying. ‘It’s been very quiet for over a year now – too quiet if you ask me, but in recent weeks there have been signs of activity. In my opinion, it could flare up at any time. My camp is in the Exclusion Zone. Apart from the fact that it’s illegal for anyone to enter the Exclusion Zone without permission, I’ve parked my caravan about as close to the volcano as it’s possible to get without being boiled alive. My colleagues think I’m a madman. So, no, you’re not staying with me. You’re going to the Blessing Guest House.’

A rooster burst from the shadows and tore across the road. Rupert braked so hard the tyres squealed. The children’s seatbelts slammed into their chests as they were propelled forward. Rupert went to move off again but his hand went still on the gearstick.

‘Do you see what I see?’ he said. Parked outside the Blessing Guest House, a rose-covered blue bungalow made enchanting by an abundance of swinging paper lanterns holding flickering candles, was the black SUV.

‘What now?’ cried Laura. ‘If the Straight A’s get their hands on us we’ll never save my uncle.’

‘Or ourselves,’ Tariq pointed out.

Rupert gave them a hard look. ‘The two of you are in a lot of trouble, aren’t you? This is real, isn’t it? I mean, at the airport it all seemed a bit of a game. Even the bodyguards, Little and Large, well, they’re like cartoon baddies. When the bodybuilder one confronted me about Skye, I wasn’t scared. I wanted to start laughing. But there’s something about seeing their vehicle there, parked outside Mrs Blessing’s guesthouse, that makes it real. It’s menacing somehow. Threatening.’

‘Look, Rupert, we’ll understand if you don’t want any part of this,’ Laura said. ‘Obviously we’d appreciate it if you don’t leave us here, but you could perhaps drop us off at the hotel or back at the airport. Calvin Redfern is my uncle and we’re strangers to you. Why should you risk your life or health for people you don’t know? Go back to your volcano and forget you ever met us.’

Rupert gave a wry smile. ‘That’s just it. I can’t. Don’t you see, I’m already involved. I lied to a security guard who was about to call the police and have you arrested or at least taken into care. Doubtless the best thing would have been for me to do exactly that, but I didn’t. I rescued you for the same reason I live within smoking distance of the volcano.’

‘What’s that?’ Tariq wanted to know.

He laughed. ‘I have an appetite for adventure.’

Then he became serious. ‘Your uncle. He’s in deadly danger, isn’t he? Why don’t we call the police? If he’s a detective, the police will be his friends. They’ll be only too glad to help.’

Laura paled. ‘No police.’

Rupert sighed. ‘What have I got myself into?’

The door of the Blessing Guest House opened and out came Little. He had his back to them and was talking to someone inside.

‘Whatever we do, we need to do it quickly,’ said Laura.

‘We’re going to Plan B,’ said Rupert, executing a U-turn so rapid he only narrowly missed the rooster as it strutted across the road again. ‘Tariq, you’ve got your wish. You’ll be getting up close and personal with the volcano after all. Let’s hope you don’t get more than you bargained for. Although ironically the Exclusion Zone might prove the safest place for you.’

He slammed his boot down on the accelerator. The old Land Rover shot forward with a growl. ‘Volcano, here we come.’

IT WAS DARK
when they reached Rupert’s home in the Soufriere foothills, having made a detour along the way to get a permit to enter the Exclusion Zone. The man at the permit office had asked a lot of questions, but Rupert had given them the story that Laura and Tariq were his godchildren, out for a rare visit from St Ives, Cornwall. He would, he promised, keep them from harm.

‘I hope I’m not tempting fate by saying that,’ Rupert murmured as they bumped up the rough track. The volcano loomed over them, a brooding black hill that reminded Laura of photos she’d seen of Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa. Before turning off the engine, Rupert backed the Land Rover up to the caravan and connected the tow hitch. Moths swirled in the headlights’ white glow.

‘Volcano Safety Rule No.1: Be prepared for a quick getaway,’ he said, switching on a torch to unlock the caravan door. ‘Volcano Safety Rule No.2: Never take anything for granted.’

He winked when he said it, but it was obvious he was deadly serious. Butterflies fluttered in Laura’s stomach. She and Tariq were gambling everything on a cheap tin badge, which might not even belong to one of the pirates. A picture of Jimmy’s expression as she pressed it into his palm came into her mind. Something had flickered in his bright, enquiring eyes. She’d been sure that he understood that she wanted him to do some investigating. But almost immediately that expression had been replaced by confusion and disappointment. Now she suspected it had only been wishful thinking on her part.

Besides, he was a ten-year-old boy. Once he was having fun at some idyllic Caribbean resort, he’d forget all about them.

‘Welcome to my humble abode.’ Rupert threw open the door and flicked a switch. Warm lamplight revealed a compact but surprisingly homely space. There were CDs strewn messily on a table, postcards and family photos pinned on a board next to the fridge, and laundry piled on a chair. An old-fashioned poster of Mount Etna hung on the wall. The most striking thing in the caravan was a display of starfish of all different colours and sizes.

Rupert noticed Laura staring at them. ‘Before you ask, I didn’t buy those. I’m extremely opposed to the sale of endangered marine creatures. I found them on a deserted beach on the southern tip of the island. There is no way that so many unusual species of starfish could have washed up on the shore by chance, so they must have been dropped by a smuggler. I returned to the beach every day for the rest of the week, but saw nothing suspicious. The Marine Concern researchers I bumped into on one trip said they’d keep an eye out for any illegal activity.’

‘Marine Concern?’ Laura burst out before she could stop herself.

Rupert was surprised. ‘Yes. Why, have you heard of them?’