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

at the turns.” David handed the iPad back to his daughter. “Let’s go and see how things are progressing with the boat.”

Crowds were already congregating in the little port anxious to examine the sleek racing hulls. Many of those strolling among the three finger wharfs which had been set aside for the competitors were the proud possessors of expensive motor launches themselves and it was to impress these potential customers that most professional crews were in the championship. Like their colleagues on the motor racing circuit, a major element of a presence on the powerboat circuit was the promotion of products. Therefore, anyone displaying the outward trappings of money was free to examine the bobbing chariots but not free to take them for a test drive. That could always be arranged back at the boatyard.

Morweena, David, and Kane made their way through the crowds and along the wooden wharfs past other powerboats which were being serviced by their crews. As they passed Barrett’s boat, the driver appeared from under the open engine canopy and locked eyes with Kane. A slow smile spread over the Englishman’s tanned face.

Kane kept pace with David and Morweena while returning Barrett’s stare. There was hate oozing from Barrett’s dark blue eyes but what bothered Kane was the smile playing on his opponent’s lips. While the eyes said that their owner was up to no good, the smile had an element of ‘I know something that you don’t’ in it. That look convinced him that there was trouble ahead.

Doc jumped from the hull onto the wooden wharfs as soon as the trio of David, Kane, and Morweena approached.

“What the hell have you been up to, mate?” Doc said.

“Have I been neglecting you?” Kane got the message. Watson thought he was neglecting the operation. “Morweena and I have been scouting out the course and whatnot.”

“So that’s how it is.” Doc feigned pique.

Kane took Doc’s arm and led him away from David and Morweena. “Doc and I need a few words in private,” he said over his shoulder.

They walked to the edge of the finger wharf and looked at the oily surface of the water.

“Any more information on Barrett?” Kane asked.

“Yesterday I would have said that Barrett was no better nor worse than the rest of the mob.”

“But you’ve changed your mind?”

“I’ve no hard and fast evidence. But that ugly arsehole of a throttleman of his, Milan, was around yesterday trying to put the frighteners on me. Called me a nosy wee prick. I had to show him that I didn’t take kindly to bullies. But he wanted to put a stop to me asking questions. That means they’ve got something to hide. Doesn’t it?”

“They’re up to something all right.” He told Doc about his recent encounter with Barrett.

“Watch your back. He’s a nasty bastard.”

“Keep your wits about you. These people don’t take prisoners. The last thing I want is to see anybody getting hurt.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Kane and Watson went back to Morweena and David.

“You two kiss and make up?” Morweena said as they joined her and her father.

“Look who’s being jealous now.”

“This place has turned into a bloody holiday camp over the past few days,” David said in his sternest team-manager voice. “Well if anyone thinks I’d permit that, they have another thing coming. Enough of the friendly banter. Doc, get to work on those bloody engines. Mark, Morweena, get familiar with the course and get yourselves ready for the hardest practice session of your lives. Now look lively.”

“Aye, aye, skipper,” Kane said and saluted professionally. The look on David’s face told him the time for humour was over.

Bill Thompson had watched as the Penhalion boat completed its afternoon qualifying race over the course along the Corniche de la Riviera. It was a magnificent sight to see thirty brightly painted powerboats stream back into the Baie de Cannes. Thompson thought of the ten thousand pounds sitting comfortably in the corner of his kitbag back at the hotel. It was a hell of a risk to leave a sum like that lying around in a Cannes fleapit but there was no other option. He would be moving on soon and he would need the readies. If old Penhalion ever got wind of what he was up to, it would be curtains for him. He’d already decided on how he would screw up the boat. Now all he needed was for the rest of them to piss off for fifteen or twenty minutes and let him get on with his plan. The ideal chance would come later in the evening when it was his turn to babysit the boat. And who would ever suspect old Bill Thompson of being up to no good?

Chapter Thirty-Four

Kane was sitting on the balcony of his room in the Majestic when the doorbell rang.

“I got your message.” Tom stood in the hallway holding a sheet of notepaper in his hand. “What’s so urgent?”

“It’s not urgent.” Kane opened the door wide enough for him to enter. “Things seem to be zoning in on Barrett.”

“You’ve found some evidence?” Tom said expectantly.

“Not exactly.” Kane explained about Doc’s encounter with Milan.

Tom slumped into an easy chair. “Get me a Scotch and soda, lad.”

“What?”

“From the minibar, lad. A Scotch and soda, please.”

Kane opened the minibar and removed a small bottle of Scotch and a bottle of fizzy mineral water. He poured Tom a drink and carried it to him.

“Barrett’s a prime candidate,” Kane said. He removed a beer from the fridge and opened it. “We won’t get an affidavit to that effect so let’s not look for it. But there are a couple of problems. The main one being that de Vries has provided us with his financials. Unless our friends in The Hague are incompetent, which I doubt, Barrett’s in the red. He couldn’t pay for a piss up in a brewery never mind a kilo of cocaine.”

“That’s a big problem,” Tom said sipping his drink. “Maybe you should turn your attention to some