Whisky From Small Glasses (21 page)

‘Whit next? Lawyers takin’ tae the sea? I’ll tell you this, I’ve never been impressed wi’ a lawyer in my life. I hope he knows whit the fuck he’s daein’.’ Scott’s question was querulous.

‘Oh aye, he knows whoot he’s daein’ a’ right, he’s an officer in the RNR tae. The Royal Naval Reserve.’ He answered their
blank looks at the acronym. ‘The trouble is, nowadays being on the lifeboat’s mair o’ a middle-class thing, like a badge o’ honour. A’ these posh buggers have yachts, an’ they’re a’ jostling fir a place on the boat. Wan o’ the toon’s other solicitors is involved tae, he’s the deputy cox. But believe it, or believe it no’, they’ll no’ sail on the boat thegither. It’s a wile carry-on, right enough.’ Campbell shook his head in apparent disbelief. ‘Right, gentlemen, let’s be having you. On and out, on and out.’

‘I’m no’ goin’ tae enjoy this one bit,’ moaned Scott as Flynn helped him to clip his lifejacket on. ‘Nah, no’ in the slightest.’

The bridge of the lifeboat was much more high-tech than Daley had expected. Two black high-backed seats that wouldn’t have been out of place on the space shuttle dominated the front of the cabin. An impressive array of dials, levers and LED screens, along with two large computer monitors, faced John Campbell and his deputy, who were, Daley assumed, responsible for steering the boat. Behind them, on a lower seat facing the side of the craft sat another crewman, staring at a huge monitor, which to Daley’s untrained eye was displaying similar geographical information to that he had seen in the harbour master’s office.

The three police officers, now thoroughly out of their comfort zone, held on grimly to chunky handrails. Other members of the crew moved about the vessel with the easy gait of those accustomed to the rolling nature of sea craft.

‘As you can appreciate, gentlemen’ – the coxswain’s voice was amplified via loudspeakers built into the bridge – ‘we are unable to ramp up the power until we’re out of the harbour area and clear of the loch. As soon as we pass the island there’
– he gestured airily with one hand – ‘we will be able to take her up to forty knots plus.’

‘Aye, just fantastic,’ Scott mumbled, his face now bordering on a shade of lime green.

Daley leaned forward to peer out of the bridge windows. The island at the mouth of the loch looked like an oversized bread roll. He could see that the water beyond looked choppier, and he suppressed a smile as he sneaked a look at his DS clinging manfully to his handrail.

Campbell’s voice boomed out from the loudspeakers. ‘Now, from the position reported earlier this morning, I reckon that it will take us around thirty minutes to locate the craft. I must warn you that the weather is deteriorating somewhat, and once we get beyond the island it might get a tad rough, so I may have to ask you to take a seat and get strapped in. I’ll see how we go.’

They were now level with the island. Daley could see what he thought was a sheep grazing halfway up what appeared to be a sheer cliff and mentioned it to Campbell.

‘Too much time spent in the city, my good man. That sheep’s a mountain goat. Ancient beasts, you know. Probably introduced to this area by the first hunter-gatherers. Fascinating! Run wild now, of course. Ah, hang on, chaps!’ He pushed a large lever located in front of him. The tone of the engines changed; they could now be felt through the steel floor of the vessel. The prow of the lifeboat rose into the air as the trim altered, and they began to pick up speed more rapidly than Daley thought possible at sea. Of course, his experience of the ocean was mainly confined to the Clyde steamers of his childhood and the odd Channel ferry or trip on Mark’s yacht. This feeling was much more exhilarating,
even though the boat was now bouncing through the waves, shaking up those onboard like ice in a cocktail shaker.

He saw Campbell lean over to the man beside him, who began to unbuckle his seatbelt. ‘As I expected, the swell here’s a bit lively. Gareth here will help you into the chairs behind you, and get you strapped in. The last thing I need is a lifeboat full of injured bobbies.’

The crewman helped them into the seats located just behind the bridge in a wide corridor. As he strapped Scott in, Daley noticed the DS whisper in the ear of the lifeboat man, who smiled and disappeared, only to return a few moments later with something that looked like a small cardboard potty, the type provided for elderly patients in hospital.

Scott contemplated the receptacle for a few seconds, then retched violently into it, splashes of vomit dotting his orange lifejacket. Fraser, sitting next to him, wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste and leaned away from his colleague, in case he too benefited from the return of last night’s over-indulgence. The smell of stale alcohol filled the vessel.

‘Fuck this’ seemed an adequate summation of events as far as Scott was concerned, as he wiped his face with a large paper hankie provided by the attentive Gareth.

‘You all right, mate?’ Gareth’s English accent was discernible through the general hubbub.

‘I’ll tell you when I’m back in Paisley, son,’ was the pallid policeman’s reply.

The engines suddenly quietened, and the lifeboat slowed perceptibly. Daley turned in his harness and looked towards the bridge where Campbell was unbuckling his seat belt.

‘Unscheduled stop, gentlemen,’ he said as an aside to the three trussed policemen. ‘Have you met Hamish, our local seer?’

‘Oh yes.’ Daley nodded vigorously. ‘I don’t understand, though. What does he have to do with all this?’

‘He’s just waved us down. I’m going to have a quick word with him. He’s got a working boat, keeps his hand in with crabs, shellfish and the like. Do you want to come up top and see what he wants? It won’t take long. He’s a good old buffer – knows much more than people think.’

‘Of that I have no doubt.’ Daley was struggling to unfasten his belt. ‘I’ll come with you.’

Scott was rubbing his forehead with his left hand, still looking deathly. ‘If yous don’t mind, I’ll jist stay here an’ try and stop my guts from ending up in a bucket.’

‘I’m OK, sir.’ Fraser was still keeping a considerable distance between himself and the DS. ‘I don’t want to abandon a colleague in his time of need.’

Daley released himself from the bonds of his safety belt and followed Campbell up a small gangplank and out onto the deck. Light drizzle brushed his face. The sea was a deep grey colour, and he could see a bank of darker sky to his left, just above the horizon. The water lapped noisily against the sides of the lifeboat, as a much smaller vessel chugged slowly towards them in a blue pall of diesel fumes. It looked like a large rowing boat, onto which a square wooden cabin had been incongruously grafted. The registration number KH213 was painted in peeling black letters on the prow of the craft. Hamish’s head popped up from beneath the cabin canopy, his tanned face distinctive under a well-worn Breton cap.

‘Ahoy there, Hamish!’ Campbell shouted from the bow of the lifeboat. ‘What can we do for you?’

The engine fumes from the venerable vessel caught Daley in the back of the throat, and momentarily he thought he might retch. He swallowed, took a deep breath and allowed the nausea to pass. The sensation of movement on the lifeboat was much more pronounced than he had ever experienced at sea, and he was glad that Liz’s presence in the County the previous evening had ensured that he hadn’t over-indulged.

Hamish threw a coil of rope at the lifeboat, which Campbell caught in the casual manner of the accustomed sailor. ‘Mornin’, Mister Campbell, Chief Inspector. How yous daein’?’

‘Fine, Hamish, fine.’ Daley noticed how Campbell, despite being a Scot, pronounced the name with a flat vowel, in the way of the Scottish upper classes; an unconscious imitation of their social peers south of the border. ‘More importantly, what can we do for you, old chap?’

For a heartbeat Daley thought the old fisherman wasn’t going to answer; he wondered if he had even heard the coxswain. Slowly though, Hamish turned his head, and seemed to be sniffing the air. ‘Aye, there somethin’ no’ right, Mister Campbell. Can ye no’ smell the taint in the air?’

Campbell raised his head, as though he too was about to carry out an olfactory assessment. He stopped though, thinking better of it. ‘What do you mean, Hamish? None of this mystic stuff. Have you seen something? We’re here to find a small cabin cruiser that’s been reported to be drifting unmanned off Thomson’s Point. Have you spotted it at all?’

‘No, no, canna say that I have. But ye don’t need tae see the moon tae know it’s there, dae ye noo?’ Hamish flashed the huge beaming smile Daley had first noticed in the harbour master’s office.

‘Eh, what do you mean exactly?’ Campbell looked confused.

‘It’s a black day, that’s a’ I’m saying. Ye can feel it in the air.’ He raised his head and sniffed, as though illustrating the point. ‘Aye, an’ the weather’s fair comin’ in tae.’ He turned to Daley. ‘I’m willing tae bet you’d still rather be cuddled up tae that lovely wife o’ yours in bed, eh, Chief Inspector?’

Daley was stuck for words, however, Campbell saved the day. ‘Well, we have to get on, Hamish, and judging by that sky and the weather report we’ve just taken off the satellite, you’d be well advised to head back to Kinloch now. I don’t want to be diverted to come and rescue you, too.’

Daley, who admittedly had little knowledge of nautical etiquette, thought Campbell was being a little high-handed. However, he should have realised that the old man would have a response to this.

‘I’ve spent mair time on the wan wave than you have experience on the sea. Aye, an’ I don’t need any fancy statalite neither.’

‘I’ll leave you to be the judge of that, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Come on, Chief Inspector, we’ll get back underway, and leave this old sea dog to his tricks.’ Campbell waved perfunctorily at Hamish and stomped off towards the bridge, with Daley following in his wake. The detective turned round to bid Hamish a farewell. The old man was standing proud at the wheelhouse of the small boat, his hand raised in a middle-fingered salute.

‘No’ you, Mister Daley. No, no’ for you.’

Daley was being strapped back into his seat as he heard the loud chug of Hamish’s boat sailing away from the lifeboat and towards Kinloch.

Their vessel was soon ploughing through the waves. From what Daley could see through the bridge windows, heavy rain had started to fall, and the yawing motion of the boat indicated that the sea was much more restless than it had been when they left Kinloch harbour.

Presently, Campbell announced over the tannoy, ‘By my reckoning, gents, it will take us about another ten minutes to reach the last known location of the vessel we’re looking for. However, such is the fickle nature of time and tide, we are already on the lookout for her. As soon as we find anything, I’ll give you a shout, and then you three will come into your own.’

Scott shouted over to Daley, ‘I wisna expecting tae be chasing the wreck o’ the
Hesperus
when I got up the morn’.’ He still looked bilious. ‘First that fuckin’ press conference, noo this. It’s like that Japanese game show – you know the one where they stick scorpions doon their troosers and suchlike. Aye, an’ before you get any ideas, you’re no’ pitting any dangerous insects anywhere near me, never mind my troosers.’

Their laughter was stopped in its tracks by a sudden slowing of the engines and Campbell’s voice over the tannoy: ‘Gentlemen, we have reached our objective.’

Daley released himself from the harness and walked forward to the bridge of the lifeboat, where Campbell was speaking into a radio microphone. ‘Vessel,
Russian Gold
, this is Kinloch lifeboat. Is there anyone aboard?’ Daley could see no movement on the small cabin cruiser.

He looked at the coxswain, who tried again. ‘
Russian Gold
, if you can hear me please show yourselves. We are making ourselves fast to your port side, and will board unless we receive confirmation that all is well and that your vessel is appropriately manned. Over.’

Nothing. Daley gave Campbell a questioning look. ‘OK, Chief Inspector, we’ve fulfilled our legal obligations. There’s no response from the vessel and we’re now at liberty to board, as I feel she may be a hazard to other shipping. Charlie, signal my intent to Clyde Coastguard, please.’ His crewman busied himself on the radio, while Campbell extricated his considerable bulk from his seat.

‘So, how do you want us to proceed, Mr Campbell? This is still your domain, after all. Though I’ll ask you and your crew to disturb as little on or in the boat as possible, in case it turns out to be a crime scene.’

‘Of course, of course. By the same token, I must ask you and your officers to follow my instructions as far as gaining this vessel is concerned. We’ll get you some more suitable footwear for a start.’

The ever helpful Gareth appeared with a selection of bright yellow Wellington boots. The three officers donned the boots, and followed Campbell out on deck.

The sky was a lowering grey, and although the sea was not showing itself in angry breakers, the swell was making the thin line of the horizon skew in an alarming way. A light drizzle had already coated their waterproofs. Scott’s hair had been pushed back from his face, and was now standing in salt-and-pepper spikes from his head. Fraser was looking at the grey water between the two vessels as three lifeboat men – one of them now on the deck of
Russian Gold
– secured ropes between the lifeboat and the cabin cruiser.

‘I’ll take the lead, Chief Inspector. I’m technically in charge of both vessels, unless, of course, something happens that should ensure that I relinquish that charge. The lads will secure both vessels as soundly as possible, but I should warn you all that getting down onto her deck will be tricky in these conditions. Are we good to go, gents?’ He looked at the three detectives, who showed various degrees of acknowledgement. Scott, unsurprisingly, looking the least willing.

The main problem was that the cabin cruiser was a much smaller vessel than the lifeboat, which meant that each man would have to be lowered from boat to boat, as well as across a gap which, regardless of how well the lifeboat crew had made their lines, changed in width and height quite rapidly.