Now to be honeymooning on a private yacht – well, my parents would be boasting about it to their friends in the Midlands for years to come.
Dee lay on the recliner, covered with a towel to dry off. I sat on the recliner beside hers. I stared at her but couldn’t tell if she had her eyes open or closed through her densely tinted sunglasses. My eyes were drawn to her recent wounds; the scarring would diminish over time, but she had refused reconstructive surgery. Her arm had circular scars front and back, but her thigh had only one noticeable scar, at the front. The emergency surgery in the Tottenham Press office had been done so well that there was now just a small line of scarring where the stitches had been.
Dee wasn’t worried about the world seeing her scars, and had been moving around the deck in her swimsuit the whole voyage. She had seen me looking and beckoned me closer, pulling me onto the recliner and pressing her lips to mine.
“Josh, it seems to me that you’ve done your job for Queen and Country, and now is the time for some recreation.”
“We’ve just been jet skiing,” I pointed out.
“Bedroom based recreation,” she said coyly, before sitting up and nodding towards the stairs to the lower deck.
***
Arthur Hickstead fully understood the message that the Establishment wanted him to take from Hammond’s visit. Essentially, it was expected that he would take the quick way out, drink the Clés des Ducs Armagnac, watch his last sunset over his panoramic window view, and blow his brains out with his service weapon.
He had to admit they had given him little option. With just a couple of thousand Euros left to his name, he would be penniless in a month.
It had crossed his mind to go to town and use his gun to rob a bank, but he knew he would be no good at it, and on this small part of the island they would probably track him down inside an hour. There was nowhere to run to.
But Arthur Hickstead had come up with a different plan. The Establishment hadn’t won yet.
***
Stuart Boyle rang Thames House. He needed instructions. Madeley answered the phone.
“Sir, Hickstead in on the move, and he is carrying.”
“Hell’s teeth! Can’t he take a hint?” Madeley said impatiently. “OK, you’d better follow him. He might have decided to make his exit sitting on the sand watching the sun drop over the horizon. If he doesn’t take care of it himself, you’ll have to make the message a little clearer. Use his own gun, if you can.”
Boyle strode off in the direction Hickstead had taken.
Chapter 92
The Janus, Mediterranean Sea. November 20th 2010, 6pm.
We were still making love when the engines started up. We were both surprised because we had expected to cast off after dark.
“Shall I see what’s going on up there?” I teased.
“Don’t you dare. Your duties down here aren’t even close to being completed yet.” She was becoming excitable, and I was inclined to stay the course.
***
“Lord Hickstead, this is insane. Put the gun down and we’ll talk this out,” Boyle shouted from the jetty.
Hickstead held the gun steady against the first mate’s head as he shouted back. “Radio me when we have a deal that lets me live my life out in luxury. I will kill everyone on this boat if I have to, but this is just to show that I’m serious.”
Boyle took his gun from his holster, but by the time he raised it he had taken a bullet from Hickstead’s gun. At this distance the Browning Hi Power had sent a 9mm bullet through Boyle’s stomach and out of his back, just missing his kidney. Boyle fell to the floor cursing, as uniformed men poured onto the jetty. As one of the men pressed a pad onto his wound, Boyle used his mobile to stutter out a brief report to Thames House.
***
I was lying on the bed with Dee beside me; we were both covered with a sheen of perspiration and feeling dozy when we heard shouting. Dee sat up, immediately alert, and signalled for me to remain silent. A shot rang out. It was unmistakable, and it was very close. A powerful handgun had been discharged from the deck.
Dee quickly pulled on a pair of shorts without taking the time for underwear and then grabbed my sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. By now I had pulled my shorts on and was about to leave the saloon and make my way to the deck to see why we were accelerating away from the dock. Dee pulled me back.
“Josh, it must be Hickstead. Don’t ask any questions, just keep him busy for a few minutes while I get organised. Don’t forget, he’s armed, but we’re not.”
***
I reached the deck to find the Captain operating the yacht from the auxiliary console. Normally the Captain would be in the deckhouse running the yacht from where he had full radar and radio coverage. But there was an auxiliary console and wheel on the top deck for those occasions when the owner wanted to be in the sun and feel the salt in his face. From his position below, Hickstead could ensure Captain Poulter did as he was told whilst still holding the first mate hostage.
When I came up onto the deck I found the first mate sitting down on a bulkhead with his hands fastened behind his back by his own belt. I looked into the distance and saw a group of uniformed men running around with radios. Good, I thought; help would soon be on the way.
“Sorry, Boss.” The first mate’s voice was slurred, and I noticed that blood was pouring down his cheek from a wound on his temple. “He asked permission to come aboard to give you a message from home, and as soon as I turned around he belted me with the gun.”
“It’s OK, Sean, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have shot him myself earlier, when I had the chance. No-one would have cared.”
Hickstead overheard our conversation, and laughed.
“Josh, you don’t have it in you. You’re not man enough. When Sir Max had to go, I dealt with it. Then Andrew was about to cave in and I had to kill him, too. As you said earlier, I am a killer, you are not, and that’s a weakness.”
“Or a strength, for most people,” I retorted.
“Why don’t we give your lady wife a call? I’d like to congratulate her on your recent nuptials.”
“Leave her out of it. You are quite mad. You do know that, don’t you? You’ve strayed way over the line that separates sanity from insanity.” I hoped I was giving Dee enough time to do whatever she needed to do.
“You have a lot to say for a man with a gun pointed at him,” Hickstead spat. “Now, call your wife or I’ll shoot you in the gut, just like your spook friend on the jetty.”
Sean confirmed that Hickstead had fired a potentially killing shot before I had reached the deck. I had heard it for myself, after all. I made a play of shouting for Dee to join us on the deck. I was surprised when she replied.
“Coming, Darling.”
The boat shuddered to a halt, and the Captain looked surprised. Hickstead pointed the gun at him.
“What’s going on? Don’t try me. I have plenty of bullets for you all.”
“I have no idea,” the Captain answered nervously. “I’m not doing this. It should be working fine. All of the gauges are showing normal readings. I don’t understand it.”
“Oh, that might have been me,” Dee said in mock apology, holding up a length of cable with exposed copper cores at each end.
“Sorry, Captain. Is this piece of wire important?” She sounded calm and actually smiled. The Captain was incredulous. He spoke angrily.
“What are you doing, Ma’am? This man has a gun on us and you go and pull the main ignition cable out. It’ll take me an hour to put that back in, and that’s if you haven’t damaged the terminals.”