The Jonah (10 page)

‘You may be right. I hope not, but you may be.’

‘Is what happened to your friend the reason you joined Customs?’

‘No, it had nothing to do with it. It seemed an interesting job when I left university, but it was only later that I got involved in investigation. They keep an eye out for any of their
employees who have an investigative flair; I guess I had. The more I learned just how corrupt and vicious the whole smuggling scene was – not just drugs – the more I wanted to do my bit
to stamp it out. It will never happen, of course, but at least we’re controlling the situation to some extent. Not that we get much help from your lot.’

Kelso smiled. The rivalry between Customs and Excise and the police was notorious and often a source of embarrassment to both organizations; he’d heard many stories of Customs
investigation officers being arrested by the police and police undercover agents being followed by Customs officers.

‘Maybe we can really work together on this one?’ Ellie said and was surprised to see Kelso’s smile fade.

‘Let’s move on, shall we?’ He stood and she, too, got to her feet.

They walked on in silence and Ellie resented his sudden aloofness. Did he think she was just a dead weight, a nuisance to be tolerated, but not accepted? Or did he believe his own publicity?
Well, okay, if that was the way he wanted it, then that was how it had to be.

And then she was laughing as she watched him slip and roll down the embankment into the mushy earth below.

It was late afternoon and Ellie felt hot and sticky. It wasn’t the weather, for a cool breeze had struck up again; her discomfort was because of the wearing route march
he had led her on. She was hungry, too.

‘Hey,’ she called out to him. ‘Don’t you ever eat?’

They were using a narrow track leading across the fields which backed on to the outskirts of the town. He turned to look back at her and she could see his surprised expression. ‘I’m
sorry,’ he said, when she caught up with him. ‘I forgot about food.’

‘Well, your stomach should have reminded you.’

‘Are you tired?’

‘My spirit is willing.’

He chuckled. ‘The going’s easier now. It won’t take us long to get back. I’ll cook us something while you take a shower.’

‘Oh no. If lack of food doesn’t concern you, I’d hate to think what your cooking’s like. I’ll handle the eats.’

‘Suits me,’ he said.

They continued walking, Ellie keeping pace with him now she knew a goal was in sight. ‘You’re right about the river,’ she said after a while. ‘It’s a
natural.’

‘Yeah, but no signs of trafficking. How many boats did we see using the river today? Two, three?’

‘There are plenty moored out there.’

‘Not many actually go out to sea, though. They mainly use the waterways.’

‘Maybe we’ll turn up something when we find out who the owners of those properties along the banks are. You never know, some of them could have criminal links.’

‘It’s worth a try. I’ll check with Lowestoft – they may come up with something.’

‘Wouldn’t the local bobby be better?’

‘No, he doesn’t even know I’m here. We thought it better to keep it as quiet as possible.’

They crossed a footbridge, the grassed-edged canal beneath them shallow and slow-flowing. The path cut across another field and Ellie saw the allotments leading up to buildings just beyond.

Kelso indicated with a nod towards a group of small red-bricked houses directly ahead of them. ‘That’s where the Preece family live.’

‘Not exactly the kind of people you’d expect to be turning themselves on.’

Another straight, manmade canal edged the field, and a footbridge ran across it to the path leading around the allotments. They took it.

‘The woman jumped into that,’ Kelso said, pointing down into the water.

‘She was lucky it’s so shallow.’

‘They still had a job pulling her out, though. Apparently she kept trying to lie on the bottom. She wanted to drown.’

Ellie shuddered. ‘We’ve got to find these bastards, Jim. They’ve caused one death, they could have easily caused more.’

‘If they’re the same people. What happened to the pilot and this family could be unconnected incidents.’

‘Yes, but I think you have the same feeling as me. I wasn’t sure when I came yesterday – I’m not absolutely sure now, but somehow I
know
there’s a link. Call
it experience, or just plain woman’s intuition, but I feel certain the LSD came from the same source.’

Kelso said nothing, but he understood her instinct and thought he could explain it. Any extraordinary event in this part of the country was completely out of character; two extraordinary events
of a similar nature and you had to assume there was a link. Yet, it didn’t necessarily make it so. Ellie moved closer to him and slid a hand into his. He looked curiously at her and she
inclined her head towards an old man who was working on one of the allotments. The gardener glanced up at them as they passed.

‘We’re supposed to be in love, remember?’ she whispered.

They cut through an alleyway leading directly into the town and Kelso brought her to a halt at the end of it.

‘Look, I’m going down to the quay to see if Trewick’s drifter has come in. Why don’t you head back to the caravan, take your shower, and then get some food under
way?’ He handed her the doorkey.

‘Yes, Master.’

‘I won’t be long. I’ll just try and fix up a drink with him for later tonight, if he’s there.’

‘Only if I can come along for the drink too.’

‘Of course. We’re in love, aren’t we?’

She leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. ‘That’s for effect,’ she said, and her eyes were laughing at him.

He watched her cross the road and turn to wave before she disappeared into a sidestreet. He was frowning as he walked towards the quay area.

Kelso’s pace quickened when he saw the fishing boat was there, half its catch already loaded onto a waiting truck. He slowed down as he drew near, not wanting to appear overanxious. Two
deckhands were loading long boxes crammed with whiting, cod and sprats; another man, older, thick grey sideburns almost meeting beneath his heavy chin, watched them from the drifter’s deck.
He eyed Kelso suspiciously when he sauntered over.

‘Good catch?’ Kelso asked.

The fisherman stared at him briefly, then shouted at the two men loading the truck. ‘Come on, you dozy bastids, we haven’t got all day!’ Even the Suffolk accent failed to
soften the gravelly harshness of his voice. He regarded Kelso once more, not bothering to conceal the disdain he obviously felt. ‘No good fishing in these waters any more, mister.
Fur’ners cleaned us out. Bastids!’

He spat onto the dock, a gob of yellow phlegm landing only a few feet away from Kelso’s boots.

‘Yeah, bloody thieves,’ he agreed. ‘Andy’s not around, is he?’

The fisherman’s face darkened and his scowl made the two men loading fish work even harder. ‘No, he ain’t around, that no-good fucker! Been to another one of his parties last
night, I suppose. Let us down badly again. Ill kill the fucker when I get hold of him.’

Sorry I asked, Kelso thought.

‘You weren’t with him last night, was you?’ the fisherman accused.

‘Me? No. I saw him in the pub, but he left early.’

‘Well, he’s done this once too often, he’s forrit this time.’ The fisherman jumped up onto the quayside with an agility that was surprising for a man so heavily built. He
strode over to Kelso and a stout finger stabbed the air in front of the detective. ‘If you see him afore I do, being one of his mates . . .’

‘Wait, I’m not . . .’

‘If you see him, you tell him from me, I’ll knock his blasted head off when I get hold of him.’ He whirled away, no longer interested in Kelso, and scooped up one of the fish
boxes and hurled it into the back of the truck over the heads of the two loaders. ‘No-good little bastid!’ Kelso heard him mutter.

Kelso walked back to the high street, his mind busy with fresh thoughts. So Trewick hadn’t turned up for work this morning. He’d left the pub in a rush last night and hadn’t
turned up this morning. Again, maybe nothing, but maybe
something.

By the time he reached the caravan site he was wondering if sheer desperation was making him exaggerate the significance of what was, after all, a minor event. But when he found Ellie’s
slumped body lying on the caravan’s floor, he realized that things were taking on a new pace.

Kelso quickly examined the girl and his probing fingers found a swelling beginning to rise at the back of her neck. He brushed her hair aside and saw a patch of redness beneath
the roots; whatever had hit her had not been sharp, for the skin was unbroken. Ellie groaned as he touched the wound once more.

‘It’s okay, Ellie, it’s me, Kelso. I’m going to get you onto the bed.’

He quickly ran his fingers down her arms and legs, pressing lightly, searching for more injuries. Satisfied that the blow on the head was all she had suffered, he gently turned her over and
slipped his arms beneath her shoulders and legs. He carried her through to the caravan’s bedroom and placed her on the lower bunk. She groaned once more and reached round to touch the area of
throbbing pain. Her eyes opened and for several seconds she seemed confused. Then she focused on Kelso and tried to sit up.

‘Stay there,’ he ordered. ‘I’ll get something to ease the pain.’

He returned to the kitchen area, quickly scanning the caravan’s interior, making sure there was no one lurking inside. Then he ran cold water over a tea-towel, wrung out the excess, and
went back to the girl, who was now resting on her elbows. She yelped aloud when he placed the sodden wrapped towel against the swelling.

‘Lie back,’ he told her.

‘No . . . I’d rather sit.’

She gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bunk and he let her hold the towel herself against her neck. ‘Christ,’ she said, ‘what hit me?’

‘I was going to ask you.’

Ellie shook her head, then regretted the movement. He studied her eyes for a few moments. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

‘What?’

‘Tell me your name.’

‘Oh Chri . . . I’m okay. My name’s Ellie Shepherd, you’re Jim Kelso, alias Jim Kelly. I’m not concussed, just a bit heavy-headed.’

‘Can you remember what happened?’

‘I can remember.’ She twisted her neck in a slow, circular movement, wincing as she did so. ‘Bastard!’

‘Did you see who did it?’

‘No, it happened too fast. I got to the caravan and found the door unlocked. I thought maybe you’d forgotten to lock it on our way out. I came in and all I remember was hearing
something come up from behind and then I went completely numb. The bastard hit me.’

‘You didn’t see who?’

‘It happened too fast. I half-turned but all I remember was a big, dark shadow looming over me. Have you got any ideas?’

It was one of those moments again, one of those brief instants when she saw that strange turmoil going on in his eyes. It was almost a suppressed panic. Then it was gone and replaced by a cold
hardness – and this was another reaction she was coming to recognize.

‘Someone must be curious about me. Either that, or it was simply a case of burglary. I’ll have a look round in a minute, see if anything’s missing.’

‘Who would want to know about you? Do you think somebody suspects you’re the Law?’

‘Perhaps. Or maybe . . . maybe . . .’ His voice trailed off. He stood and said, ‘You look as though a stiff drink might help.’

‘It would. But what were you going to say?’

He went into the kitchen, leaving her staring after him. She watched through the doorway as he quickly examined the interior of the caravan, checking drawers and cupboards, often just staring at
objects as if they could give him a clue as to who had broken in. Finally he returned with a bottle half full of Scotch and two tumblers.

‘This be okay?’ he asked, holding the whisky towards her.

‘I’ll need a little water with it.’

He poured two measures and went back into the kitchen to add water to hers. He handed her the Scotch and watched her take a sip. She grimaced.

‘Your head?’ he asked.

‘The Scotch,’ she said.

He took a large swallow of his own drink and Ellie shuddered inwardly.

‘We’ve been searched,’ Kelso announced.

She was taken aback, but waited for him to go on.

‘I always make a point, when I’m working undercover, of placing things in certain positions. You don’t need strands of hair stuck over closed doors or fine powder sprinkled
around the room: all you need is a shoelace lying across a shoe in a certain way, a tie hanging loose over a drawer, but at an angle. If anything is moved, I’ll know. You had no chance to
touch anything when you came in, so it had to have been our intruder.’

‘What could they have found? Your ID?’

‘I never leave that lying around.’

‘Anything else? Papers, your reports?’

‘Don’t keep them. There was nothing for them to find and you probably disturbed their search anyway.’

‘You were going to say something a minute ago. Why they would have broken in . . .’

Kelso was sitting on a stool opposite the bunk, and now he leaned closer to her, elbows on his knees, tumbler held in both hands. ‘This Trewick, apparently he didn’t show up at the
boat today. His skipper was blazing mad; seems Trewick has a reputation for being unreliable. Last night, he was frightened – I could feel it. Almost scared for his life. And I’m still
sure it was the man in the leather coat who scared him – Trewick ran out so fast I felt the draught. I told you last night this character who came into the pub looked like an out-and-out
villain, hardly the sort that hangs around in little fishing towns.’