Название: Murder in the Caribbean
Автор: Robert Thorogood
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Полицейские детективы
isbn: 9780008238223
isbn:
‘But that’s clearly not what’s going on here. Especially as I just saw you open the curtains to your bedroom wearing next to nothing. Not to mention your friend I just met, whoever she is.’
‘That’s Amy,’ Dwayne said with a delighted smile. ‘She’s something, isn’t she?’
‘I’m sure we can all agree she’s something, but she shouldn’t be walking around in a towel on Police time.’
‘But she’s not on Police time. She’s on holiday.’
‘I don’t care what she’s doing on the island,’ Richard interrupted, ‘it’s what you’re doing on the island that bothers me. Because you’re supposed to be using Thursday mornings for personal study time.’
‘Why do you keep saying that?’
‘Because it’s supposed to be what you’re doing!’
This statement seemed to take Dwayne by surprise.
‘But you never really meant that, did you?’
‘Of course I meant it!’
Richard took a deep breath to steady his rising blood pressure. Dwayne was a good copper in many respects, but it was safe to say that his and Richard’s approach to work weren’t entirely universe-adjacent.
‘Oh right,’ Dwayne said, understanding finally coming to him. ‘You actually want me to be doing personal study on my mornings off.’
‘They’re not mornings off, they’re study periods!’
‘Okay okay,’ Dwayne said, holding up his hands, ‘you’ve made your point. I’ll make sure I work every Thursday from now. But don’t worry, no harm done. I mean, it’s not like there’s much going on on the island at the moment.’
Before Richard could reply that it really wasn’t for Dwayne to decide what was or wasn’t ‘going on’ on the island, they both saw a flash of light from the direction of Honoré harbour that was followed a few seconds later by the crack and boom of a massive explosion.
‘What the hell was that?’ Richard said as a thick cloud of black smoke started to blossom from about half a kilometre out to sea.
‘I don’t know about you, Chief, but that looked to me like an explosion.’
Richard turned back to his subordinate and dead-eyed him.
‘Dwayne. Get dressed. Personal study’s over.’
By the time Richard and Dwayne arrived at the harbour, the smoke from the explosion had long since cleared, and they found Detective Sergeant Camille Bordey and Police Officer Fidel Best securing the Police launch, which was really no more than an old wooden skiff that had a pair of massive engines strapped onto the back and the words ‘Saint-Marie Police’ written in white down the side.
‘Did you see that, sir?’ Fidel asked, as he pulled the old tarpaulin off the steering position.
‘Of course I did, or what do you think I’m doing here?’
‘Anyone know what it was?’ Dwayne asked.
‘I was on the veranda of the station when it happened,’ Camille said, ‘and I saw a ball of fire out in the harbour. I think a boat went up.’
‘Then we need to get out there,’ Richard said as he boarded the boat and sat down on the bench that ran down one of the sides.
‘Yes, sir,’ Camille said, joining him as Dwayne cast off. Camille started the twin engines, Dwayne stepped onto the boat and it started to move off.
‘Not too fast!’ Richard yelped as Camille opened the throttle and the boat started to surge through the water.
‘What’s that, sir?’ Camille asked over the roar of the engines.
‘Not too fast!’
‘Can’t hear you, sir,’ Camille shouted as Richard’s old school tie freed itself from his suit jacket and started flapping wildly behind him. It was perhaps a sign of how seriously Richard was holding on for dear life that he didn’t make any attempts to grab it and force it back down the front of his suit jacket so that sartorial decorum could be restored.
As Camille drove the boat in a wide arc around the clutch of yachts that were at anchor, she, Dwayne and Fidel shared grins, knowing how much their boss hated any kind of physical danger, real or imagined.
They came across their first piece of debris from the explosion less than a minute later and Camille cut the engines, the launch slowing to a slooshy stop almost immediately.
Looking about themselves, the Police could see that it was one of those days in the tropics of almost perfect stillness. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the sea seemed to be breathing as it gently rose and fell, and there were sparkling diamonds of reflected light all around them on the water. But there were also what looked like thousands of different-sized pieces of ripped-up wood floating on the surface of the water.
‘Look, over there!’ Fidel said, and they all saw that there was something much larger floating in the water just off their port bow.
With a quick squirt of power, Camille steered the launch towards the object, and it revealed itself to be the back end of an old boat. The prow should have been pointing vertically downwards towards the sea bed, but Richard could see that the front half of the boat was missing from where the explosion had split it in two.
The section of the stern that was still just above the water line had the boat’s name written in white letters. It was called Soundman.
‘Anyone know who owns the boat?’ Richard asked, before he realised that his team was looking at an area of the hull just above the painted name. As Richard looked for himself, he could see why. There was a bright smear of what looked like blood. In fact, the way the smear ran down the wood, it was easy to imagine that someone who was heavily bleeding had briefly clung to the side of the boat before subsiding and slipping into the sea. There even appeared to be a rather macabre handprint in blood just to the side of the smear.
‘I’ll call the coastguard,’ Dwayne said, pulling out his phone. ‘They can maybe winch the boat out of the water and help us get it back to shore. And in answer to your question, Chief, Soundman belongs to a guy called Conrad Gardiner. He lives in a house on the beach to the side of the harbour.’
‘And what do you think happened here?’
Richard’s subordinates looked at each other, nonplussed.
‘It exploded,’ Fidel eventually said.
‘I can see it exploded,’ Richard said in exasperation. ‘But how did it explode? Do boats normally explode?’
This time it was Dwayne’s turn to answer.
‘No, Chief.’
Richard pulled a hankie from his jacket pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow, his face, and then the back and front of his neck.
‘Very СКАЧАТЬ