CHAPTER FOUR

More Skulduggery

The town quay is not the most peaceful place to be. In the early hours Greg was woken by fishermen as they unloaded tea chests full of live crabs to go by road for processing. As soon as he could, he departed upstream to the peace and quiet of Robbie’s Creek, where he could work on Harry’s chandlery list.

Later, Chris called him on the cellphone.

‘Good news, Greg: Antonio is happy with the shipment. The fishy stuff will last him for months, but he could take more of the liquid stuff any time. Thought this info might help. However, Paul Partick, whom you spoke to the other day about selling his boat, is coming in to see you on Friday morning. I tried to put him off until you got back on Saturday, but he has to go abroad. I thought you’d rather see him yourself.’

Greg did a quick think.

‘Thanks for the news, Chris. I’ll be back later today. No problem. Bye now.’

A familiar sound got louder. Yes, it was Robbie. He tied up alongside.

‘Got some stuff for ’ee. How did ’ee get on with them cases?’

‘Morning, Robbie. Just got some good news. I can’t take any more caviar for a bit, but I can dispose of the Calvados all right.’

‘Well, fancy that,’ said Robbie. ‘Caviar has dried up a bit anyway, but it just so ’appens that we have a couple more of the hard stuff right yere.’

The two cases were quickly transferred to Greg’s boat.

‘Come aboard and I’ll get the kettle on and bring you up to date.’

Greg told Robbie about his evening in The Victoria.

‘Nick’s one of us, but be careful with old Josh. ’E’s a bit of a blabber.’

Greg explained to Robbie that there was a change to his plans. He had to get back as soon as tide permitted, so couldn’t see Frank and Joan this visit.

With tide and wind against him, Greg made slow progress toward the Dart. He must get back to see Paul Partick - he was not going to let Chris have to deal with a matter that was now his responsibility.

A fair run soon took him to the Dart entrance. Approaching Dartmouth from the west on a fine day such as this presented no problems, but arriving at this harbour in rough weather can be tricky until the rocky shores and high cliffs either side are cleared. Once inside, the harbour is a safe haven.

The advantage of his berth at the yard was that it was secluded and just a few yards from his caravan. Boats on the pontoons were rarely occupied and shifting his ‘bit of trade’ from the boat to the caravan at night, with the yard closed, guaranteed secrecy. From caravan to warehouse was just a few paces.

He tied up at the pontoon, went below and was in the forecabin when he heard footsteps on the decking. Creaking, and movement of the boat, confirmed someone was approaching. He flung a spare headsail over the cases on the bunk. Panic was setting in as he quietly moved into the main saloon to see who it was.

A female voice called out, ‘Permission to come aboard?’

For a moment recognition failed him. He poked his head out of the companion way - it was Mary! He managed a grin of pleasure.

‘Darling,’ he stuttered, ‘what are you doing here?’

As she made to climb over the safety rail he was on the pontoon like a shot.

‘I’ve missed you,’ she said. ‘It’s as simple as that. They’ve given me some leave before I go to Scotland, so here I am. You don’t look well’ were her next words when the kissing had stopped.

All he could think of was to say that he’d been working hard and that the passage from Salcombe had been rough.

As they stood, arms about each other, Greg’s thoughts began to settle. Physical contact with Mary, the look in her eyes, her words, reassured him of her feelings. A sense of enormous pleasure came over him as his guilty conscience about the loot on board subsided.

‘You look better already,’ she said.

‘I feel it,’ he replied truthfully, but the brain was still telling him to keep her off the boat at all costs.

‘I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow,’ was all he could think of as he explained he didn’t want her to see the mess on board. He steered her along the pontoon, saying that the mess in the caravan was less than that on the boat. Her bag was at the top of the steps to the pontoon. Her little MG was outside his caravan. ‘Are you staying?’ he asked.

‘Do you want me to?’

‘What do you think?’

They had not been in the caravan for long before Greg realised how much he was going to miss her when she went to Scotland.

‘How long have you got?’ he enquired as she looked around.

‘I’ve only just arrived, and now you’re asking when I’m going.’ She giggled and looked around. ‘Long enough to clear up this shambles.’

‘You’ll do no such thing. I like it this way. There’s nothing in the fridge, I’m afraid. How about I take you out to dinner?’

‘Thought you were broke?’

‘Not quite, and anyway this calls for a celebration. I didn’t expect to see you for months. When are you going to Aberdeen?’

‘At the end of next week. Let me have my way. Tomorrow I’ll do a bit of shopping if you’re busy; meanwhile I’m starving - it’s been a long drive, and I haven’t had anything since I left Southampton this morning.’

‘Mary, I think you’re wonderful. And yes, I have to see a customer in the morning. I’m starving too. Let’s go and refuel.’

Early the next morning Greg said to Mary, ‘My guess is that Chris will be in the office shortly. I must get the gen on Group Captain Partick. He’s bringing his boat in this morning. I think there’s a problem with it.’

‘Will you be back if I get some breakfast on the go?’

‘Breakfast! You’ll be lucky. I told you the cupboard was bare.’

Sure enough Chris was at work in his office.

‘Did you enjoy your surprise when you got back yesterday?’ enquired Chris.

‘Surprise? I nearly had a heart attack. You’ve forgotten that Mary is an officer in Customs & Excise. Why didn’t you warn me?’

‘Hell,’ said Chris, ‘you haven’t told her about your bits of trade, have you?’

‘Not bloody likely. My concern is getting the stuff off the boat.’ Greg explained that he hadn’t decided whether to tell her or not. Now that Harry had moved in, Greg suggested, the warehouse didn’t seem to be the place from where to ship it.

Chris went over and put his arm round Greg’s shoulders.

‘Fear not, my friend, Harry hasn’t spent years in the nick without learning a thing or two.’

He reached for the yard Tannoy and called for Harry to come to the office. Harry listened to Chris explain the situation, and then he looked Greg straight in the eye.

‘You had better make your mind up right now what you are going to do about your girlfriend. She told me she was a Customs officer. When you’ve decided that, I’ll decide about myself. Personally, I’d dump her like a hot potato.’

For Greg, getting rid of the stuff on the boat was number one priority. As for dumping Mary, it didn’t bear thinking about. He needed breathing space.

‘OK, you’re right. There’s too much at stake for all of us. But I’ll need time. I can’t just push her out just like that - she might get suspicious. She’s trained that way. Anyway, we must get the stuff off the boat and away before I have to show her around,’ Greg continued. ‘Mary’s going shopping in Dartmouth later, Harry.’

Chris and Harry looked relieved.

‘I’ll give you a shout when the coast is clear. Chris will give you the address, won’t you, Chris?’

Harry looked pensive and left them. Greg raised his arms in a gesture of helplessness and concern.

‘Stop worrying, Greg. Let’s talk about the Group Captain. A few weeks ago he came in wanting to know if we’d sell his boat for him. You chased him up last week, so he’s back again this morning. There’s a history to this boat.’

‘I’m all ears - go ahead,’ said Greg.

‘It’s a Westerly thirty-six-footer by the name of Amity. She’s been badly neglected even though only about eight years old. We quoted him something like seven or eight grand to repair the osmosis in the hull and replace the engine and propulsion. The rest of the boat was sound but needed a good bit of loving care and attention.’

‘Sounds like a wreck to me,’ said Greg.

‘Not really. You should know that Westerly made them as strong as tanks. You were talking to me about wanting a bigger boat. I reckon this is your chance. I suggest you buy it yourself at the best price you can knock him down to. We’ll repair the hull and put in a new engine etc., for which we’ll charge you at cost. If we can find space for you in No.2 Shed, you can do the rest of the work yourself this winter. If you play your cards right, you’ll end up with a boat worth twice what you paid for it.’

Back with Mary, and bubbling with enthusiasm, Greg told her about the plan to buy Amity and that with a bit of luck he’d have some news for her when she got back from the shopping. She left to do her shopping in Dartmouth, on the other side of the river. They kissed and hugged before she set off to walk to the ferry.

Greg nipped back up to the balcony outside the offices. Here was a clear view up and down the river. With Chris’s binoculars he could see Mary getting onto the ferry to cross the river. He went down to see Harry in the warehouse.

‘There’s nobody within sight of my boat at the moment.’

‘OK, I’ll give old Seth a job at the other end of the yard. Let’s get the stuff into the warehouse, and I’ll deal with it from there.’

Greg had never intended to move the cases in daylight, and his heart was pounding more from fright than exertion as they worked. It only took five minutes to have them safely on a shelf in the store, where, amongst so many other boxes of goods, they assumed an innocent look.

Greg was further reassured by Harry who whispered with a wink, ‘You look more like someone who’s nicked the Crown jewels than a couple of cases of booze - good thing you’ve got me around. I take it you’ll make it worth my while next time.’

There had been no sign that this remark was a joke. Greg smelled blackmail.

‘Harry, how about popping down to the boat in a minute, where we can’t be overheard? I’d like a quick word.’

A little later, as Greg was refilling the freshwater tank on the boat, Harry arrived. They went below and Greg put the kettle on. Over coffee Greg gained the impression that it was not Harry’s top priority to ‘go straight’, but more not to get caught.

‘The next time doing what?’ asked Greg.

‘Acting not quite according to the law’ was his reply, ‘like you are doing now.’

Greg reckoned he was trapped. Trapped by his greed. Trapped into his deceit of Mary. And, looking at Harry across the cabin, trapped by this man to whom he was taking an increasing dislike by the minute.

Harry’s parting shot was, ‘Just this time, I’ll do as Chris and you want and get the stuff off to London pronto.’

Greg made for the office, anger welling up. By the time he arrived in Chris’s office he’d got up a fine head of steam.

He was glad Flossie was not there as he exclaimed, ‘I know I’m on a fiddle with these ‘bits of trade’, and I thought you reckoned it was just a lark, but I’m not sure about your brother.’

Chris looked shocked.

‘I thought I had reassured you,’ he replied. ‘And Harry needs my help.’

‘I admire you for that,’ said Greg, ‘but at the risk of losing our friendship, can you expect me to have faith after the conversation I’ve just had with him?’

Greg repeated all that had been said between him and Harry on the boat and elsewhere earlier. ‘Chris, it’s not just me at risk here. You and I are more than just pals. Whether he’s your brother or not, talk like that doesn’t fill me with confidence. A few days after meeting me he’s trying to blackmail me. It’s not just a question of the pot calling the kettle black. I’ve always trusted you, and you me. If either of us did not like something the other had done, we would have it out, so that’s why I’m here now.’

Chris was clearly disturbed. He said nothing for a few seconds. Then: ‘Look, Greg, I value what you are doing for me a lot. Sure the trade is a bit of a lark and I’ll tell you when it must stop going through here. I don’t like what I hear, but I must trust him until events prove I can’t. Leave it with me.’

‘OK,’ replied Greg, ‘I am going to ask Mary to stay for a few days whilst I think about our future together. I am more than very fond of her. What I would really like is for us to be married.’ He asked Chris if there was anything at the yard he shouldn’t show Mary, as he knew she’d be interested in it all.

Chris’s humour returned, and he said with a smile, ‘Don’t go into the warehouse until your stuff has gone!’

Greg was on the boat when Mary returned, empty-handed.

‘You don’t look very pleased to see me,’ she said as she climbed aboard. She then explained that she had promised a couple of quid to a boatman to bring the shopping across to the pontoon as there was too much for her to carry.

Just then an old boy in a dinghy cut his outboard and tied up to the pontoon as Mary waved to him. They unloaded from the dinghy what looked like half the contents of the supermarket, and Mary paid him off.

‘I must settle with you for all this,’ said Greg.

Mary shook her head. ‘Forget it. It’ll be my contribution.’

‘You’re a lovely, lovely person. What am I going to do without you?’

‘Well, not starve, I hope!’

The Group Captain arrived in Amity at the pontoon astern of them. Greg helped him to tie up.

‘My guess is that you are Paul,’ called out Greg.

‘Indeed,’ was the reply. ‘And you are Greg Norfield?’

When the boat was secure Greg was invited on board. They shook hands.

‘I won’t beat about the bush, Greg. Your firm has a good reputation around these parts. I want the best deal you can offer me - or if not a deal, the best advice. I’ve been posted abroad. Your boss, Mr Curnow, knows the boat from my visit here last year.’

‘I won’t waste your time either. I have checked our records. You have our quote for repairs. We understood last winter that you didn’t wish to go ahead with these repairs. Mr Curnow and I agree that we cannot sell the craft in its present condition. We think our suggestion for repairs, which includes a new engine, is the minimum required to make the boat saleable. We would be happy if you sought another opinion. However, I have a proposition.’

‘Please say what’s on your mind.’

Greg had a good look around the boat, started the engine, listened carefully, and pointed out to the owner the black smoke from the exhaust.

‘I wish to upgrade to a larger boat myself and am prepared to spend my own time and money on yours. To this end I will buy her from you and personally attend to all the suggestions in the Curnow recommendations of last year, but the maximum I can offer you as she stands is six thousand pounds.’

‘I’ll have to think about that. I’ll let you know.’

Greg helped him to cast off and walked back to his boat.

‘Well?’ queried Mary.

‘He’s going to think about what I offered him. It was a bit low - but fair, I think. We’ll just have to sweat it out.’

‘Come on - positive thinking,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen a big change in you. You’ve got a wonderful opportunity down here. You have a real purpose to your life now. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.’

‘Do you know, Mary, I don’t think I would have done that had it not been for you. You are such a positive person.’ He put his arms round her. ‘You make me so happy, and then you push off and leave me for God knows how long!’

‘Firstly,’ she replied, ‘I don’t like to hear you use God’s name in that way. Secondly, what makes you think this happiness business is one-sided? We both have our lives to live. I shall miss you, you know that. But it doesn’t have to be for ever.’

‘No, indeed. Come on - we’ll go up and tell Chris about Amity then I’ll give you the grand tour.’

They saw Chris after their lunch in the caravan. He said nothing about Harry as Greg told him of the outcome of the Group Captain’s visit. Chris had already met Mary the previous day. Greg announced he was now going to take Mary on a tour of the yard.

As they were going out of the door, Chris called, ‘Don’t forget to see Harry in the warehouse,’ which Greg took to mean that his stuff was out of the way.

When they got there Harry was all smiles, and shook Mary’s hand.

‘We’re new boys together, Greg and I. Expect Greg has told you,’ he said, addressing Mary. ‘This new chandlery agency my brother has taken on is going to mean quite a lot of work for both of us.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Greg responded, ‘especially for you at the start-up, Harry. Good luck.’

When they got outside Mary said, ‘You didn’t tell me Chris had a brother.’

‘I didn’t know until I got here’ was the most Greg felt he could tell her about Harry.

They set off on their tour of the rest of the yard.

They returned to the caravan arm in arm.

‘That was fascinating,’ said Mary.

Greg gave her a hug.

‘There’s food here to last both of us a month,’ he said laughing. ‘You didn’t actually say when you had to go back?’

‘Must get back on Wednesday, I’m afraid. Have to see my letting agent about the flat, move my personal gear into the spare bedroom, and pack in time to set off for Aberdeen.’

Next day, Sunday, Paul Partick brought Amity round again and tied up at the pontoon. He agreed to Greg’s offer, and they used Chris’s office to draw up the bill of sale. Greg handed over his cheque. Within a few days, after clearance of the cheque, he would legally be the owner of Amity. Greg left a note on the office door to say he was around for business. He could keep an eye on the office from the pontoon. Now he and Mary could inspect his new purchase.

‘That’ll keep you busy whilst I’m away,’ was Mary’s wry comment.

Mary clearly was close to tears when they said goodbye on Wednesday. Greg walked slowly back to the caravan. Why hadn’t he asked her to marry him?

The knock on the caravan door was Harry.

‘I’m sorry, Greg, for what I said the other day. I’ve given it a fair bit of thought. My experience of the last three years has left me a bit edgy.’

‘I really am trying to understand, Harry. Please sit down and perhaps we can talk it through.’

‘I think I was a bit harsh about your girlfriend and about dumping her,’ continued Harry. ‘After all, if you’re going to run a scam, a bit of inside knowledge is invaluable. You could pick up a lot of tips about how not to be caught, eh? I also think I have a way of leaving Chris out of the equation altogether using a pal’s courier business.’ And with that he left.

Greg’s moral indignation at Harry could hardly be reconciled with his own avarice. Over two thousand pounds was on its way from Antonio, Chris’s London pal, in cash. Leaving Chris out of it all should safeguard the yard, and private road transport organised by Harry, who had everything to lose, like his freedom, ought to be fairly safe and reliable.

He went over to the office. Chris and Flossie were there.

‘I’ve sorted things out satisfactorily with your brother this morning, Chris. I would like to go back to Salcombe if you don’t need me.’ Before Chris could comment Greg went on to explain that he had a prospective customer for the forty-five-foot ketch. After he completed the demonstration sail that morning he would speak to other boat owners who were on their brokerage list and that would tie things up for a few days whilst he was away.

Chris went along with this plan and spoke to Greg at the top of the steps, out of Flossie’s hearing.

‘I’m glad you’ve made it up with Harry. I don’t think he means a lot of what he says. I guess three years in the nick makes you like that. Did you know his wife divorced him while he was in prison?’

Greg said he hadn’t really talked on a personal basis with Harry, but he would make an effort to get to know him better.

‘By the way,’ said Greg, ‘where is he living?’

‘Oh, he’s sharing a cottage a few miles away with an old friend who has a courier business running goods between Torquay, Exeter and London. We might use him ourselves if he’s competitive.’

Doubts returned to Greg’s mind.

‘Who is the old friend, then?’

‘He’s Harry’s old cell mate from Dartmoor, by the name of Selby. Apparently they got on so well together in the nick that when Selby’s mother died just before they were released Selby invited Harry to share the cottage he’d just inherited.’

The trial sail of the ketch went well. The couple he took out were pleased enough to leave a substantial deposit, saying they would be back in a week or so to pay the balance. He went up to Chris’s office to tell him.

‘I’ve decided to take Amity to Salcombe. A short trip like that will help me sort out things that require attention.’

‘I just hope the engine doesn’t conk out on you,’ said Chris, pursing his lips and looking dubious. ‘I seem to remember we thought it was shot.’

‘Well, I will just have to sail, won’t I? The sails are in good condition - they look as if they’ve hardly been used. Perhaps that’s the problem. Previous owners have used the engine all the time and flogged it to death. It’s only an underpowered auxiliary.’

With that Greg took his leave of Chris and set about getting Amity ready for sea. He could tell from the sound of the engine that it was ‘tired’, and the black smoke from the exhaust confirmed the yard’s notes (that it had reached the end of its life), but he thought the sailing performance would be better than his old boat, and he was not wrong. He made good time under sail to Salcombe.

That evening at his usual anchorage in Robbie’s Creek he called the Trehairnes on his cellphone. It was Frank who answered.

‘Thanks for responding to my call yesterday. This is really important. Can you come over for supper? I’ve something we need to talk about urgently.’

‘Sounds mysterious to me,’ Greg answered. ‘Ouch - just remembered. I haven’t got a dinghy with me. I have bought a new boat and am trying her out. I forgot to bring the dinghy. Boat’s name is Amity, by the way.’

‘Hang on a minute, Greg,’ said Frank, and Greg heard him put the handset down. He came back a minute later. ‘Julia says she’s going to row down to fetch you - needs the exercise or something. Says she will be there at five o’clock if that’s all right.’

‘Five o’clock is fine,’ said Greg. ‘See you later.’

Julia was on time. She came alongside in her dinghy and climbed aboard.

‘Hi, you lovely creature,’ said Greg. ‘I’m flattered to have you come to greet me personally.’

‘You know how I feel about you,’ was her reply.

Julia moved close to Greg.

‘Now is the moment of truth,’ he thought. He had come here partly to sort out his priorities. Julia was attracted to him. He was naturally flattered to have the attention of a pretty young girl. But wasn’t he in love with Mary?

‘Julia, I think you are a lovely girl, but . . .’ he started to say as she moved closer.

She put her fingers to his lips to stop him.

‘Don’t you realise I love you,’ she said.

The ring of his cellphone installed in the main saloon intervened. He went below to answer.

‘What are you two doing down there?’ said Frank with a chuckle. ‘I sent Julia to bring you up for a very important meeting.’

‘Leaving now,’ said Greg and switched off the phone. He knew what he had to say next. ‘Julia, you are not in love with me. Yes, I think you are terrific, but I am older than your father. I am also very fond of your family. You have all become good friends. Can we leave it like that?’

She replied with a brief look of real annoyance, ‘OK, have it your way - let’s go.’ And leading the way down the stern ladder they boarded her dinghy. She grabbed the oars and pulled for the landing a little further up the creek. If she had been hurt by Greg’s remarks, she certainly wasn’t showing it any more.

As she rowed she said, ‘You know, you really shouldn’t rattle on about your age. It doesn’t sound like you at all, so utterly negative. I took you as such a positive person. Are you saying you don’t want to see me again?’

‘I’m saying no such thing,’ he replied, mindful that he wanted to keep his friendship with the Trehairnes. ‘What I am saying is that you are barely eighteen. You have your whole life before you - just take it easy.’

Greg was glad that they had arrived at the landing and as they clambered ashore and hauled the dinghy up the slope he had time to think. He did not want to be discussing their relationship as they arrived at the house.

‘Look, let’s put this on hold for another time,’ he said. ‘You have all said that there’s something important to discuss and your father called and seemed anxious that we should be home as soon as possible.’

Her reply was as disarming as usual: ‘OK - another time. I suppose you are carrying those oars so that you can keep me at a distance!’

‘You know perfectly well that nobody leaves a dinghy on the foreshore with the oars. That’s like leaving your bike in the high street unlocked.’

She turned, and with her engaging smile, laughed, and said, ‘Sorry, sir - I won’t do it again.’