Crash Course by Derek Fee (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📕

already I have tried to invite you to my little villa on the Smerelda. And always you are refusing me. This year we will spend some time together. No?”

“Definitely not,” Morweena said, extricating herself from Tardelli’s clutches.

“Very delicately handled,” Tadeka said smiling.

Kane had expected an accent from the Japanese but Tadeka spoke English like a native-born American.

“I’ve had lots of experience in dealing with Angelo,” Morweena said and blushed. “May I introduce our new driver, Mark Kane.”

“Mr Kane, a pleasure.” Tadeka and Tardelli shook Kane’s hand while Watanabe and Fukio bowed.

Tadeka was tall for a Japanese. Kane estimated his height a little under six feet. He was also struck by the man’s features which were not completely Oriental. The hair was jet black but there was something about the face which indicated a degree of interracial ancestry in the not too distant past. Tardelli was slim, tall and obviously careful with his body. His face was covered with a short black stubble as though he’d forgotten to shave for several days. He looked the epitome of de Vries’ description – a playboy or perhaps somebody playing at being a playboy.

“It appears that you and I will be considered the novices of the championship this season,” Tadeka said, addressing Kane.

“That’s certainly true in my case, Mr Tadeka. But I understand that you’ve already been out a few times.”

“Call me Yukio please, Mark.” Tadeka smiled broadly. “Yes, I’ve raced several times but rather ignominiously, I’m afraid. This year, I have not only my own considerable cash resources invested in my boat but also some industrial assistance.”

Mr Watanabe bowed. He obviously represented the industrial assistance.

Kane stared at the gold chain hanging around Tardelli’s neck. The pendant consisted of a gold cross that had a spoon incorporated in the horizontal beam. The goldsmith had been clever and discreet. Friend Tardelli liked to snort cocaine.

Tardelli followed the direction of Kane’s stare. “To get to heaven it is sometimes necessary to have a little help, no?”

“Amen to that,” Kane said. “I have been known to seek a little bit of heaven myself.” Signor Tardelli didn’t know it but he had been promoted to the top of the suspect list in the Bell murder.

Tadeka shuffled uncomfortably.

Morweena turned her attention to the embarrassed Japanese, a dazzling smile playing on her face. “We’re looking forward to racing against you, Yukio. I’m sorry, we really should mingle.” She took Kane by the arm and led him away.

“What the hell was that all about?” she said as soon as they were out of hearing of Tadeka’s group. “Why do you have to be so downright embarrassing?”

“Part of the old Kane charm, I’m afraid. Never fails when I’m introduced into polite society. Interesting guy Tardelli. Is there drug use among the circus?”

“Not that I heard of.”

“You noticed Tardelli’s cross had a small spoon incorporated into it.”

“I did.”

“Ever done drugs?”

“Of course, some weed and a few lines of coke. But it wasn’t my thing. I’ve seen what drugs have done to people I thought I loved so I vowed never to be part of that scene. What about you?”

“Army life is either all-out action or utter boredom. Drugs offer relief for both. I used uppers but nothing that would interfere with my performance. I’ve been clean since I demobbed.”

“The offshore racing crowd work hard and play hard and they mind their own business.” She continued to steer him away from Tardelli. “Especially where their private lives are concerned. I’d advise you to keep that in mind.”

“I’ll bet they do.” He hadn’t missed the way the conversation had been steered away from drugs. Neither had he missed the ‘mind your own business’ sign. Perhaps there was more to Miss Penhalion than met the eye.

Kane examined each face as Morweena continued her passage around the personalities on the balcony. He recognised several of the faces he had seen on the screen in Europol’s office. Given the crowd in the room, de Vries would have to run his computers overtime to dig up all the information they’d need.

“The sport is only in its infancy,” Morweena explained as they moved around the room. “Right now, it only attracts thrill seekers with money. Once they’ve made a bundle, a lot of the excitement goes out of life and they get bored. They try paragliding or they take up some other sport with a bit of danger in it. The ones who can burn up millions of pounds without worrying about it and who want a genuine thrill graduate to powerboats. As the sport develops, it’ll eventually be handed over to the professionals just like Formula One motor racing. When, and if, the big-time sponsors arrive, the day of the gifted and rich amateur will have passed. The competition is getting fiercer every year and while these guys appreciate the danger involved, they really don’t want to die. You probably don’t believe it but Dad’s the first designer who’s approaching the sport in a professional manner. It’s not a question of high speed but high speed combined with high stability.”

Kane recognised Georges Lemay. “Who’s the Latin type who treats the champagne like water?”

Morweena followed Kane’s glance. “That’s Georges Lemay, somebody you don’t want to meet personally. One-time motor racing driver and the sign of things to come in this sport. Couldn’t make it on the track so he’s trying his luck in powerboat racing with the Gitanes team. Word has it that if he doesn’t produce the goods this season then he’s finished.”

Kane watched as Lemay snatched another glass of champagne from a tray carried by a passing waiter. A gold Rolex was visible on his wrist. Kane’s villain antennae twitched but you could never say that someone who looks like a villain is a villain. Ted Bundy was a good-looking wholesome American boy who got his rocks off killing young women. Some of the drug dealers he’d met had looked like investment bankers. But every now and then you spot someone with a look that says, I hate