Through the port windscreen I could see the lethal looking rocks. They were very close, and after each great wave the water ran off the bared and jagged fangs in great rivers that ended their journey back into the sea, creating foaming spume everywhere.
The boat was well into the turn now. I shouted to Ferdinand to come back down; but he yelled, “Do you want to go round and round in a bloody circle?”
He stayed where he was. Again there was a slam of metal hitting metal. The large piece of flat table top came thumping down steps to where I was crouched.
As soon as we were round far enough Ferdinand jammed a pole hook into the wheel. He began to crawl back, but he had left it too late. The change of course that had reprieved the cruiser, sentenced George to almost certain death. With nothing left to protect or shield him, Caplin pumped four rounds into him in quick succession; but with those Zeiss x 8 telescopic sights, one would have done the job.
Fiona shouted something from the other side of the wheelhouse, but with the howling wind, and sea spray now coming through the smashed windscreens, her words were drowned out. All I got was her mouth moving and her right arm waving frantically up and down.
In my crouched position, I had no way of knowing if Harry Caplin was still up on the cliff top. But I soon got my answer as I cautiously went to stand up.
Caplin fired two rounds in quick succession. Both only just missed me, whizzing past my head and ending their journey in the main control console.
The bastards trying to kill us all, I thought, as the instruments disintegrated as the bullets smashed through the flimsy plastic.
I flattened myself against the wet deck and crawled towards Fiona and the unconscious girl. As I got nearer to them, another round slammed into the bulkhead just above me.
“He’s trying to disable the Star Dust and kill us into the bargain.” Fiona shouted.
“I know, just stay down!” I replied.
Fiona came closer to where I was spread-eagled on my stomach.
“Jake, have you got your mobile phone on you?”
“Yes, why?”
“Give it to me. Quickly.” Fiona said.
I handed the phone to her and she immediately started to dial a number.
“Who are you calling?”
The local police. I’m going to ask them to put up a helicopter. It’ll be the only chance we have of getting to that psychopath Caplin up on the cliff top.
If they’re quick enough they’ll catch the bastard red handed.
The next moment. We could hear the thrashing of rotor blades almost above us.
“Surely the police can’t have got here that fast.” I said.
“It’s not the police, look.” Fiona pointed to the stern of the boat. It was Harry Caplin at the controls of his own helicopter. He dropped down and hovered about twenty feet above the ocean. Knowing that we could see him, he looked straight toward Fiona and me. The boat’s radio crackled, and then Harry’s voice came over the loud speaker.
“You should’ve listened to the little lady, Ace. Letting me go was a big mistake. Anyways, I’ve got to go now, before the boys in blue arrive. Like I said before, Ace. You have a nice life, now.”
He then mock-saluted us before banking the helicopter to the right and rising up into the air. A minute later the police helicopter arrived on the scene.
As we limped back to the shallow water of Studland Bay, Fiona came and stood by my side, she put her hand on my shoulder. Nothing needed to be said. But, we both knew what I’d done by letting Caplin go.
“Your time will come, Harry. Make no mistake about that.” I said quietly to myself.
Chapter 32
A dozen spent 7mm-cartridge shells on the clifftop were the only trace of Harry Caplin by the time we had anchored the Star Dust just off Studland beach. The weather had dragged the cloud base and the barometer reading well down.
I used my mobile phone to call an ambulance, and LJ in London. The girl needed a paramedic quickly. LJ, answered immediately, and I proceeded to give him a brief update of the situation in Dorset. He told me to stay put, and that he would arrange for a local contact to pick me up within the hour. I broke the connection. This would just give me enough time to make my way along the coastal path to Old Harry. When I reached the top of the slope that led up to the cliff-top, I looked back down at the cruiser using my binoculars, the girl was still where I’d laid her with eyes unseeing and her mind in neutral; she was holding George Ferdinand’s hand very tightly. She wouldn’t let go.
Fiona stayed on the boat and liased with the police. She took the death of George Thomas Ferlind in her stride and wrote it into her report smoothly enough to allow me to escape entanglement and any awkward questions.
After what George had told me, a lot of the unrelated ends began to tie themselves together. Not all of them did, of course, but that was too much to expect. There would always be those inexplicable actions by unpredictable people, but the motives began to show. I knew, for instance, what we would find up at Flackyard’s house, but I went anyway.
I told the driver to drop me off around the corner, entering through the old rusty gate at the side of the house. Inside the furniture was shrouded and my footfalls echoed and creaked round the bookless shelves. The big chandeliers were also covered to protect them. I went downstairs to the cellars, searching for the sort of room that I knew must be there. At the far end of the wide passageway I found what I was looking for. I studied the square shaped panel on the wall for a moment; it had a digital keypad in the centre and a credit card size slot at the top. I knew from experience that only by entering the correct entry number once and inserting a card that matched would anyone be able to open such a heavy oak door. It was just my bad luck that this type of locking system invariably came with automatic lock-down steel shutters that seal all windows and doors in a matter of seconds.
I turned the polished brass handle anyway. It moved easily in my hand.
Pushing gently, the heavy oak door moved silently on its hinges. It was a cold room, painted white. From the low ceilings hung long fluorescent lights on chains. Under these were lines of stainless steel benches. Walking up and down the lines of benches it soon became apparent that this had been a very well equipped workshop and storage area.
In their haste to leave, Flackyard’s people had not only neglected to activate the alarm systems, but a lot of equipment had been left behind also.
This wasn’t any make shift facility. It was a large air-conditioned strong room of the type that organised crime syndicates build instead of paying corporation tax.
I moved along the benches, looking at the machines and array of electronic calibration equipment. I examined the complex array of ammunition. Some of the bullets looked like sophisticated hollow heads containing, I’d no doubt, various volatile liquids. I didn’t, however, find Mr Robert Flackyard, because he had been gone for some time.
I called LJ from my mobile phone. I advised him that Jasper Lockhart should be kept under surveillance. Use Vince Sharp and his many gadgets, I suggested. LJ protested that he wouldn’t make a very good watcher, but I reminded him that Vince had asked many times for fieldwork of this type and that he was the best in the business at eavesdropping. Anyway, we all have to learn at sometime. “Suppose Lockhart tries to leave the country?” LJ said.
“I doubt if he will, but if he does try, simply call in a favour and get the police to arrest him,” I said patiently.
“On what charge?” LJ asked.
“Try soliciting,” I said, and hung up irritably.
Chapter 33
I stepped into the cool air-conditioned environment of Ferran & Cardini. The lift descended to the department quickly and silently. Tatiana was waiting for me as the doors slid back with a heavy looking briefcase.