Murder on the Rocks (The Ralph Chalmers Mysteries Book 7) Read online

  “Mostly it’s drugs money. They get hold of heroin or hashish from Columbia using money from what the mafia used to call ‘tax on businesses and crime’, then use that to buy arms from places like Uzbekistan and Eastern Europe, or even Pakistan nowadays. There’s always someone who has contacts within the military and can get their hands on guns and other weapons.”

  “It makes me shudder, Ralph. I wondered why those police cars were lined up outside. That EU delegation must be a prime target for anyone who wanted to make a point. Although I expect security is pretty tight. Let’s hope so, since a bomb in this place won’t ask for an ID before it blows anyone to smithereens. I don’t fancy getting liquidated just because we happened to book in at the same hotel.”

  “Well, we’re leaving, anyhow. When I was here some years ago we went across to Tangiers. It’s an interesting place and we might pick up a bargain in the souk. If the winds are kind to us we could be there in 3 hours. Just in time for a late lunch,” said Ralph.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we go to Casablanca? It’s not that far down the African coast. I’d like to see that bar where they filmed Casablanca where Bogart said ‘Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine’. Or something along those lines. What do you think?”

  “I wouldn’t mind it sometime, but it’s a bit too far for a day trip and the weather forecast said it was freshening from the East. We don’t want to finish up getting blown out into the Atlantic. We’ll save that for another time.”

  “Okay, but I’ll hold you to that. Let me just double check we haven’t left anything in the room we need while you grab a taxi. Most of our gear is on the boat.”

  “Don’t forget to get my shaving gear and my passport,” Ralph called after Katie’s retreating back.

  ***

  Just as he had hoped, there was a strong wind that allowed them to broad-reach across the Straights towards the Moroccan coast. It was a beautiful day and the blue sky added a pale green tone to the sea as they surged past a group of bright red and blue fishing boats whose occupants seemed oblivious to their presence as they toiled over their nets.

  Suddenly the wind seemed to just stop and the sails flapped as they sat becalmed. Katie was below decks making tea when she heard Ralph reciting a poem that she vaguely remembered hearing as a child.

  All in a hot and copper sky,

  The bloody Sun at noon,

  Right up above the mast did stand

  No bigger than the Moon

  Day after day, day after day,

  We stuck nor breath nor motion

  As idle as a painted ship

  Upon a painted ocean

  “Have you got heat stroke or something?” she called through the open hatch. “What’s that from, anyhow?”

  “It’s the sun, me dear. Drives a man crazy with thirst.” It was a pretty poor imitation of a Devon accent, but it was the best he could muster. “Sorry just messing about. It’s Coleridge”

  “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner. Now I remember,” Katie said as the wind freshened and Gypsy Lady thrust through the waves towards Tangier as though she were anxious to reach her destination.

  Ralph showed Katie how to operate the ship to shore radio and she dutifully called Tarifa station on Chanel 10 and Tangier traffic on Chanel 69 to declare their passage plan. The calm voices of the radio operators who sat in their glass towers and watched over the shipping had given comfort to countless sea captains over the years. Mariners could rest assured that they were now entering civilized waters. “I can’t believe you, Ralph,” Katie said when she had finished reporting their position and sail plan. “You know we are too small for them to worry about.”

  “It may not be a requirement for small yachts like the Gypsy Lady, but it’s better to err on the side of caution. Countries can be pretty antsy about foreign ships entering their territory.” Katie just rolled her eyes and put it down to Ralph being a fuss pot.

  “During WW2 some 62 German submarines sailed into the Mediterranean through these Straights and none ever sailed out. They called it the mousetrap,” Ralph shouted as Katie emerged from below with two mugs of tea.

  “Fascinating. Do you want a biscuit or shall we wait until we get to Tangier?” she asked as she ducked the spray from a wave that soaked Ralph.

  “Maybe just one chocolate digestive or custard cream,” Ralph said as he peered at the compass.

  As they approached the harbour Ralph caught a glimpse of the yacht Loch Ewe that belonged to Colonel Stigart’s sons. It sailed past the main entrance to the harbour and headed up the coast where his charts indicated there were some small villages that were close to the main roads into the town. They managed to find a berth just behind the old Medina where the passenger ferries from Algeciras tied up. It was not ideal, but as they only planned to be there for a few hours, it would do. The port officials were conspicuous by their absence. Ralph presumed that they were taking a long lunch break and siesta. As there was no money to be had by hassling the crew from a small yacht, they no doubt concentrated on the ferries and the cruise liners where the pickings were better.

  Ralph scribbled a note and tacked it to the office door before they left to seek out a restaurant.

  “Now I feel almost human again,” Katie said after their superb lunch of grilled sardines and salad.

  After lunch they set off to do a bit of window shopping at some of the expensive art shops before they headed to the markets away from the more touristy area to see if there were still some bargains to be had.

  “Look at that painting, Ralph, Liberty Leading the People. Delacroise certainly captured the feeling of French Nationalism, don’t you think? Liberty holding the tricolour over the bodies of those dead soldiers. It’s pretty powerful. The boy holding the pistol over on the right. He’s supposed to have been the inspiration for Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. Remember? we saw the musical in London on one of our first dates.”

  “How do you know about Delacroise?”

  “I just spent a year teaching at the Sorbonne, Ralph, or didn’t you notice that I was away? Anyhow, he did a lot of painting here in the early 1800’s. Some of them a bit extreme for the times. He even managed to paint some Moroccan women smoking hashish.”

  “What do you think of that?” Ralph asked as he pointed to a bronze of a sleeping Hercules. “Never mind,” he said as he turned over the price tag and winced. “There’s a cave just outside town where he’s supposed to have rested before he began his 12 labours. I wonder if he started with the stables or if that was the one he screwed up.”

  “Trust you to like something to do with labours. Let’s go find that market and see if our negotiating skills are any good.”

  Having failed to drive the price down to what they thought a small carpet was really worth, they escaped back to the busy side streets. Just as they were congratulating themselves on having avoided being thrown out of the shop, they had to step back quickly as an old battered truck rumbled by. A stream of foul black fumes poured from its exhaust. It stopped by a dilapidated warehouse and two distinctly dodgy looking men started loading the truck with some large wooden boxes.

  “Ralph, look over there by the truck. Isn’t that Miles? You know, Stigart’s oldest son?”

  “Yes. and it looks like he’s negotiating with the driver about something,” Ralph replied.

  “And don’t forget, we saw their yacht only about an hour ago. Either he was not on board or someone drove him here from that bay they were heading for. What do you think it’s about, Ralph?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just buying some spare parts or something. Those lads seem to be capable of finding a good deal. Or they could be getting some elicit booze.”

  “Drugs more like in a place like this, Ralph. I can just see them with their hooker pipes sitting on deck back in Gibraltar.”

  “What are you doing?” Ralph asked when he saw Katie take out her camera.

  “I’m taking a photo. It�
�ll look great in the album.”

  “Look I think we should just forget about it and make our way back to the boat. Besides, we need to get going. I don’t want to be sailing at night in these waters.”

  In spite of Ralph’s caution, Katie went ahead and took the photograph anyhow. At the sound of the click from her little Leica camera, Miles turned and stared at her. Ralph pulled her back and they ran down one of the alleys.

  “Why are we running?” gasped Katie? “I could have just said we were taking some shots of the town and he got in the way.”

  “Well it’s too late now. It’s a good job we’re staying at the hotel. And with a bit of luck we won’t see them back at the harbour in Gibraltar. I’ll try to find another berth away from Stigart’s yacht. I wish you hadn’t done that.”

  “Well, it’s done now, so don’t go on about it, Ralph. Besides, why would he care if he got in the photo?”

  Katie knew when she had overstepped the mark so she did not push it further.

  They were soon back at the boat and had cast off from the dock. They motored out into the Bay and away from the passenger ferry lanes before Ralph set the sails for Gibraltar. There was a chance that a stiff wind blowing from the Mediterranean would slow their passage home, but he hoped to make it before the light faded, and he knew that what little tide there was would help speed their passage. They were busy handling the boat as the winds had picked up and there was no opportunity to talk about their encounter with Miles Stigart. As they approached the rocky coastline they could see the black wooden groins that were designed to break up the waves that beat continuously against the ancient rocks. Suddenly Ralph pointed to the shore. He had seen what looked like a man lying or clinging to one of the slime covered rocks as the waves attempted to pluck him from his precarious perch.

  “Take the helm, Katie, there’s a bloke over there on those rocks. I’ll get the sail down and you hold her off with the motor. I’m going to try to get him aboard,” he shouted above the freshening wind that threatened to drive them onto the craggy rocks.

  Katie could see that Ralph was high on adrenaline, but she had not anticipated his next move. Tearing off his shirt and kicking off his deck shoes, he dove over the side. Within minutes he was back alongside with the man in a neck hold. She threw a life buoy in the water, and as they had rehearsed, she swung the boom out with a fold in the sail that drooped in to the waves. It acted like a scoop into which Ralph pushed the unconscious man. She unhitched and threw a small rope ladder over the side for Ralph. The folded sail acted like a sling, and when Ralph hoisted the main, it pulled the man up and out of the water. As they lowered him onto the deck, it was obvious that the man was dead.

  Ralph called up the harbour police on the VHF radio. Within minutes a launch arrived alongside and put an officer aboard the Gypsy Lady. The launch then led the way into the police area of the Marina. After they had given their story to a very non-committal police Inspector, they were told that their yacht would be impounded and that a police car would take them back to their hotel.

  They both took a hot shower and Ralph poured himself a whisky before they sat down to figure out what had happened.

  “You did a great job out there, Katie. I know we practised it a few times before we left the UK, but it’s the first time I’ve ever actually used that sail recovery technique. Damn that water was cold.”

  Ralph could not stop shivering despite the hot shower and the whisky

  “If I’d known you were going to do your Tarzan act I would have stopped you. One day you’re going to kill yourself. You could have easily have got banged on those rocks and all for nothing. The guy was already dead.”

  “But we had no way of knowing that without bringing him in. And if he had been alive we might have saved him.”

  He knew that it was Katie’s way of coping with things. And he was really glad that she had been there. Otherwise it could easily have gone wrong.

  “So what do you think it was all about, Ralph? That man was wearing a suit and tie. He was definitely not your average Moroccan seaman who’d fallen overboard.”

  “No. I noticed that, too. Do you think he could have been pushed over that cliff?”

  “Or fallen. But why would he be up on that cliff in the first place? Even if he were just some tourist who went up there and slipped over the edge, it’s unlikely he would pick a sweltering hot day like today to go up there to see the view.”

  “Well let’s assume that he was with someone. Say part of a tour,” Katie said.

  “Not in a suit and tie,” Ralph interrupted.

  “Wait a minute. Let me finish.” She paused and looked at him in a way that at any other time would have infuriated him. But he was starting to feel a bit woozy and settled for “Okay”.

  “Well if he was in a group then the police would have been alerted and they would have found him before we came along. Right? So he was either taken up there coshed or something and thrown over to make it look like an accident or even suicide.”

  “It sounds plausible but why go to all that trouble? Whoever it was could have just dumped the body anywhere.”

  The room phone rang. It was the front desk. The hotel receptionist told them that Inspector Walters was in the lobby and wanted to speak to them. Ralph pulled on a polo shirt and slipped on a dry pair of deck shoes and Katie grabbed a pair of shorts and some sandals.

  It was the man who had spoken to them earlier at the Marina police station. He showed them into one of the conference rooms where coffee and tea had been laid out. He introduced himself as Inspector Walters, Royal Gibraltar Police.

  “Good of you to see me. I expect you are pretty tired after the events of this afternoon,” he smiled as he poured some tea. “I assume you both drink tea at this time of the day? Ms. Eggleton” He handed Katie a cup. “Milk?” He motioned to the jug. “Same for you Professor Chalmers?”

  It struck them both that they could have been talking to an English policeman, which they supposed he was. It was all very civilized.

  “I have to tell you that we’ve done some background checks with our colleagues in London. I’m sorry about that, but in this business you can never be too sure,” he apologized. “In any event, we’re satisfied that you had nothing to do with this dreadful business; apart from the attempted rescue, of course.” Ralph liked his sense of humour. A tight spot, some danger, and all wrapped up as almost an aside. Typical Brit, thought Ralph.

  “We were wondering why he was wearing a suit,” Katie enquired.

  “I can tell you that he was a senior member of the French Commission. He’s part of a delegation who are here at the Hotel working on a special EU project.”

  “Do you mean the Eta arms decommissioning?” Katie asked.

  The Inspector looked a bit surprised.

  “What do you know about that, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “Our waiter mentioned it at breakfast,” Katie explained. “And Ralph keeps up with all the European news. It’s his area.”

  “If you don’t mind, I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourselves. But I may as well tell you that we believe this was no accident. The delegates had taken the afternoon off, and unfortunately security was a bit slack. Not my responsibility, I hasten to add. We think the intention was to take him hostage in order to get some media coverage or leverage of some sort, and it all went wrong. Whoever did it tried to make it look like an accident. He was reported missing by one of his colleagues and we had mounted a search when we got your call. And the rest you know.”

  “So is there anything else we need to do?” Katie asked. “We had planned to start back for England within a day or so.”

  Ralph was a bit surprised by Katie’s question. He had expected that they would be asked a lot more questions about why they were in the Bay, where they had been and that sort of thing. In the back of his mind, he wondered if they should say something about having seen Miles Stigart in Tangier, or their suspicions about possible arms smuggling o
r drugs. But then he decided that it might be better to wait until he felt a bit sharper and had time to think clearly about it before he said anything to anyone else. And he and Katie should probably discuss it a bit first. He decided that it would keep until the next day.

  The Inspector set down his cup and closed his notebook.

  “We will of course need a formal statement before you leave. If there are any questions that we need to ask you after the coroner’s enquiry, we can arrange all of that through the authorities in the UK. Meanwhile, we’ll deliver your yacht back to the marina.”

  “We’re happy to help in any way we can,” Ralph assured him.

  “One more thing,” the officer said before he took his leave. “We would ask you not to speak to the reporters or media about this as an enquiry is under way. They are keen to get a story since it’s a political hot potato. Naturally the Spanish authorities want to distance themselves from any involvement.”

  “Why?” Asked Katie.

  “The Basque Nationalists and the Spanish government have some, shall we say, differences to sort out. An incident like this won’t help. Whoever did this could have been intent on creating a delay to the arms decommissioning process.” He stood up. “Look I can see you are both exhausted. Just come down to the station whenever you feel up to it and we can sort out the formalities.” With that he bade them goodnight and left.

  “So it looks as though we almost got ourselves in a mess here, Ralph. I think once we’ve made those statements, we should start for home.”

  “You’re probably right. But I’d still like to take a look at those paths above the rocks where we found the body.”

  “What on earth for? It’s not our business. The Inspector said we could leave, and I think that’s exactly what we should do. It’ll take at least a week to sail back home.”

  Ralph could see that Katie’s jaw was set. It would not be easy to convince her to hang around in Gibraltar any longer than need be, but he decided to give it one more try.