Grant looked ahead and pointed. “Almost there, Joe. It’s the street’s by that building with the blue awning.”
Henley made a right off Fore Street onto South Quay Hill. He slowed the van, then had to stop because of the crowd. The road was almost totally blocked by a throng of curious onlookers, jostling one another, trying to get a better view. Word had spread quickly about a body being found in the bay.
Brit cops had already put up wooden barriers at the curve. They stood by, preventing anyone from scooting around them.
Grant opened the door. “I’ll see if they’ll let us down there.” Hopping out of the van, he elbowed his way through the crowd, heading to the nearest constable.
The constable put his arm out. “You cannot proceed any further.”
“I need to talk with Habormaster Roberts, sir. He and I spoke earlier about a… situation. Tell him it’s Grant Stevens.”
“Wait here, sir.” The constable motioned to another officer, who immediately ran down to the breakwater, stopping next to a moored fishing boat.
As he waited, Grant looked around the harbor. Two cop cars were parked on the breakwater. Another two blocked the road at the bottom of the hill. The only civilians appeared to be the fishermen who most likely found the body. Grant turned around, scanning the crowd. He spotted the old man who rented the boat standing next to another constable.
“You can go down, sir,” the constable said to him, after getting a wave from the harbormaster.
“There are two others in that van who are with me,” Grant pointed. “You need to let them through.”
Getting the cop’s approval, Grant motioned for Henley to drive, as he started running to where the harbormaster was waiting.
Once he was at the bottom of the hill, he jogged over to Roberts who was standing opposite the fishing boat. The two shook hands.
The sound of a car door slamming made Grant take a quick look. Adler hurried toward him. “Suggested the commander stay in the van.”
Grant nodded, then looked down at what was left of a partially blackened hand. It was poking out from underneath a worn piece of tarp that probably came off the fishing boat. “Where’d they find him, sir?”
“South of here,” Roberts replied. “He got tangled in the nets.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Grant asked as he stepped closer.
“Not a pretty sight,” Roberts commented.
Grant took that as an “it’s up to you” answer. He squatted down and reached for the tarp, slowly drawing it from the body.
“Damn!” Adler said under his breath, as he snapped his head back. He knelt down next to Grant. “Phew! Anything look familiar?”
Grant tried to find something recognizable. “I’m pretty certain it isn’t the guy with the raincoat. I got a pretty good look at him when the boat pulled out of the harbor.”
The body he was looking at was just a bloody, blackened mess. The left hand and ear were missing. His abdomen was split open, exposing the lower section of what was left of his liver. Most of the disembowelment was from the explosion, but also partially from active sea life.
Grant commented, “This guy could’ve been the one with the weapon. He’s about the right height and body size. Christ! He must’ve been right on top of whatever blew.” His eyes followed along the length of the body down to the legs. “Either he slammed into something or something slammed into him to cause those compound fractures of his legs.” Without taking his eyes from the body, he asked Adler, “Got any ideas?”
“Probably not much gas in that small engine, but some C4 would’ve helped nicely with whatever was there.” He got down on a knee. Squinting, and trying not to breath too deeply, he leaned closer, moving his index finger in a small circle just above the scorched temple. “What does that look like to you?”
“Christ!”
“Yeah. Looks like a bullet took care of this guy before the explosion did.” Not wanting to touch any part of the dead guy, Adler went to the other side of the body. Bending over, he looked at the head and pointed. “The exit was here, in front of where his ear used to be.”
Grant drew the tarp back over the body, then stood. He asked the harbormaster, “Did the old gentleman who rented the boat take a look at this?”
Roberts shook his head. “You mean Albert? We thought it best he didn’t.”
“Understand, sir.” Grant backed up a couple of steps, taping Adler on the arm. “Let’s go.” He held his hand toward Roberts. “Sir, really appreciate your assistance and letting us take a look.”
Roberts took hold of Grant’s hand with a firm grasp. “Anytime, mate!”
Henley stood next to the van on the driver’s side puffing on a cigarette. When he saw Grant and Adler coming towards him, he dropped the cigarette, asking anxiously, “Well? Did you learn anything?”
Adler gave both of them a quick look, then got in the back seat, as Grant said, “I’m sure it’s one of the men I saw taking out the boat, but still don’t know who it is. Come on, Jack. You drive.”
One of the cops at the top of the hill waved them toward him. Henley put the van into drive and started driving slowly.
The curious crowd was being pushed back to allow the van to pass. Grant was staring out the windshield. As they approached the curve, he said under his breath, “Son of a bitch!” He immediately unsnapped the holster strap, then rested his hand on the handle of his .45.
“What the hell are you lookin’ at, skipper?”
“I think it’s him!”
Henley was craning his neck, looking in every direction, not knowing what or who he was looking for.
Adler questioned, “Who? The guy you saw earlier at the harbor?”
“Yeah. The ‘raincoat’ guy.” Grant reached for the door handle. He opened it just until it unlatched, then he hung on. He couldn’t let the suspect out of his sight. “Jack, drive slowly. Keep your eyes straight ahead.”
Henley pressed on the accelerator, just enough to barely move the van forward.
Adler eased his weapon from the holster and flipped off the safety. He scooted across the seat, getting close to the door.
“Shit!” Grant spat out. “He’s got glasses (binoculars) on us.” It was then Grant drew his weapon.
The van was almost through the blockade. Adler had one hand on the door handle, waiting for Grant to make his move.
The cops pushed the crowd back farther, trying to make room for the van to pass. Henley’s heart pounded against his chest. He didn’t have any damn idea on how, or even if he’d be participating
Just then, the suspect turned and started to disappear in the crowd.
Grant shouted, “Jack! Follow us, but stay back at a safe distance!”
He threw the door open and jumped out, then slammed the door. He made a dash past the cops. Pushing his way through onlookers, he kept his arm hanging close to his body, with the .45 grasped in his hand. Adler stayed close. Trying to see over the top of the crowd, they finally broke through the masses.
Grant spotted him. “There he is!”
The suspect was running full bore up South Quay Hill. His dark raincoat flapped around him. There wasn’t anywhere for him to go but up. The cliff was to his left and a rock wall with jagged rocks lining the top were on the right. Curious onlookers leaned against the cliff wall, turning their heads as he ran behind them.
Keeping him in sight until he rounded a curve at the top, Grant and Adler put themselves into overdrive, trying to catch up.
Slowing as they neared the curve, they hugged the wall and ducked down, edging their way closer to where the road straightened. Grant looked around the wall, then motioned Adler to follow him. They scrambled across the street, getting close to a building, slowly making their way toward an alley on the left.