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Curse of Thieves: Another Major Vince Hamilton Investigation Page 7
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I whiled away the time by finding another restaurant and having a leisurely meal. Around 9.30pm, it started to get dark. I recovered my car and headed for the boatyard. This time I had my electronic listening device with me just in case I might be able to eves drop on a conversation.
I parked the car well away from the boatyard which, I suspected, held the stolen boat, and started to walk. I was looking for the closest boatyard to the one where I suspected the Splendiferous was, so as I could gain entry. I wanted to try and use the water as my means of entry. The nearest one was, unfortunately, about seventy meters from my target.
I picked my way carefully through the boatyard, using a torch to illuminate all the hazards. Boats seemed to be everywhere, and any place that there wasn't a boat was filled with timber and other items of boat paraphernalia. Eventually, I made the water's edge.
Another problem faced me. The fences surrounding the property extended out from the shore into the water. I would have to go at least ten meters out into the Etang to get around the end of the fence before I could enter the next boatyard. I would either have to swim or get hold of a small dinghy. I preferred the latter option.
I found a small rowing boat which would be ideal for my purpose; however, I couldn't locate any oars. The fences weren't electrified, so I decided to pull myself along the fence as the means of propulsion. I placed my listening device on the floor of the dinghy and set off.
My plan worked excellently, and I reached my intended destination without any problems and without getting wet. As I rounded the last fence, I found what I was looking for. A large motor yacht named Splendiferous was sitting on blocks on the slipway with its stern sticking out over the water.
I sat there pondering the situation. What to do now? I wanted to find out what was going on to be able to work out why they had brought the boat to Sete, but I didn’t want to get caught.
As far as I could gather there didn't appear to be anybody on the boat as it was in darkness. I decided that my best bet was to tie the rowing boat to the stern platform and get on board from there. If I landed from my dinghy on the slipway, there was a reasonable chance that someone might hear the keel grinding on the concrete. Looking further into the boatyard, I could see that there were lights on, and I saw shadows moving around. Obviously the people were still around even though it was quite late.
I pushed myself off from the fence and made the ten meters to the stern of the vessel. I tied up the dinghy loosely, just in case I needed to get away quickly, and climbed aboard with my listening device. I stealthily moved towards the bow of the boat until I had a marvellous view over the boatyard. On my way, I touched some royal blue paint which had obviously just been applied to some panels that I passed as it was still wet. I ended up with a blue hand and some blue paint on my clothes.
There were two men sitting at a table, smoking and drinking beer and another was walking back towards them from the direction of a large shed. I put in my earpiece so as I could hear what was being said. I pointed the device towards the two men.
I was disappointed; they were speaking Italian. One seemed to be called Lorenzo and the other was called Giuseppe. They were talking in a highly animated fashion with plenty of gesticulations, so even picking up the names was difficult.
I heard a noise behind me and saw a seriously large man coming towards me.
Dropping the listening device, I took off along the other side of the boat to the one the crewman was coming along. I had been so keen to look into the boatyard that I hadn't thought about anyone else being on board. He must have heard me as I walked along the deck to the bow. I just escaped his lunge as I took off.
As I sped along the deck towards the stern and the safety of the water, my assailant called out to his mates in Italian. I now had four men after me and, on top of that, I had lost my listening device.
My pursuer was better equipped than I was for running along the deck, and he caught me just as I reached the upper deck at the stern. I turned to face him and took a swing at him as he did me. He landed a solid punch on my shoulder. I flew off the stern landing flat on my back in the shallow water. Lucky I missed hitting the dinghy. I recovered quickly from the fall and made my escape. I didn't bother about the rowing boat as it would have taken too long to untie, and I had landed in the water a small distance away from where it was tied up. I escaped by wading and swimming until I rounded the fence and was able to get access to the neighbouring boatyard.
I went looking for a way out; however, the gates were locked, and there was no way through the fence. I heard the noise of feet running on the road. I had no alternative but to return to the slipway and re-enter the water. I took off my outer clothes, rolled them up into a bundle and set off.
I moved into the deeper water again to get around the next fence. I was then able to go towards the slipway of this boatyard. As I emerged from the water, two of the men jumped on me. I tried to fight against them, but they were far too strong for me.
Each of the burly men took an arm, and they marched me out of the boatyard, along the road to the heavily protected property where Splendiferous was and through the gate, which was now open. They brought me into a concrete building which appeared to be a storeroom. There were no windows or access into the room except the door that I had just come through. The walls and ceiling had been painted white many years before, and there was a single light bulb on the ceiling giving a particularly harsh light. Another member of the group was standing there.
'Who are you and why are you spying on us,' the man who seemed to be the leader asked me in Italian flavoured English.
I decided that the best bet would be to perfectly frank and direct.
'I represent the owner of the motor yacht that is presently sitting on the slipway. I have come to get it back.'
'How did you know that it was here in Sete?'
'With satellites it is an easy job to track anything these days. You can't hide you know,' I replied.
He went over and talked to one of the other Italians who left the room in a hurry. He came back with two lengths of rope, and they tied my wrists. I was forced down onto the floor, and they tied my ankles. I was trussed up like a chicken. They then left me. I heard them lock the door.
A while later the door opened, and two of the gang came back into the room. A man I took to be the leader came over and hit me across the side of the face. He then showed me the tracking device that had been placed on board in Cannes. They had obviously gone to search for it when they had left me.
'We now know how you located the boat, but you won't be able to track us when we leave tomorrow morning, will you?' he smiled.
All my plans were crashing down around my head. They had captured me, and the tracking device was now no longer in place and usable. They could leave in the morning when the bridges opened, and the boat would vanish. Peter Brown would not be best pleased with me.
I was untied, and they searched me thoroughly before I was re-tied up and rolled onto the floor. They tied me to a pole in the centre of the room that was attached to the concrete ceiling and the floor. I wasn't going anywhere. They took my mobile phone and my wallet.
All the time that they were dealing with me they were gabbling away in Italian in their usual animated way.
When they had finished searching me and tying me up, they switched off the light and left me to it, locking the door behind them.
The lack of windows meant that I wasn't able to tell when daylight came. I did hear a lot of noise outside which sounded as if they were working on the boat. Finally, there was the sound of a large motorised trolley hoist. They were obviously putting the boat back in the water.
Then there was complete silence. They must have left to go back into the Mediterranean so the bridges must have opened, and it must be after 10.00am. I had failed miserably and let the Peter Brown’s boat escape. The only positive to come out of this exercise was the fact that I now knew that all the men involved were Italian.
I recalled the fact that the man I had shot on the roof of the Auction House, when we had prevented the diamond necklace being stolen, had also been an Italian. In addition, Inspector Baird had told me that Italians were behind the theft of the luxury cars in London, and now I had Italians involved in the theft of the motor yacht. Could it possibly be the same gang involved in all three?
The day went by very slowly. I dozed some of the time, but I was too uncomfortable to get much rest. My hands and feet gradually became numb from the restricted blood circulation. All I could do was live in hope that I would be rescued at some stage. When Willem telephoned the hotel, and they confirmed that I hadn't returned, he would take action.
With great relief, I heard some noise just when I was starting give up hope. It sounded like a grinder that they would need to use to get access through the gates. I then heard voices in the boatyard.
I called out in English, 'Help, I am in here.' I kept shouting until there was a bang on the door.
Crash! They were breaking the door down. Shortly afterwards the door was wrenched open, and a Gendarme stuck his head into the room.
'Monsieur Hamilton,' he asked politely.
'Oui, c'est moi,' I replied in my best French.
Another more senior Gendarme officer came into the room.
'Mr Hamilton. Are you all right? Are you wounded in any way?' He inquired in surprisingly good English but with a strong French accent.
'If you take these ropes off my ankles and wrists I should be fine.'
He instructed two of his men to remove the ropes.
My feet and hands stung while the circulation returned to them.
'I need to make a report on what happened here so you must come to the police station with me and tell me the story,' the Gendarme officer said.
I struggled to get my joints working sufficiently so as I could walk. Eventually, I managed to hobble to the car. The boatyard was full of police all wearing body armour and carrying guns. They must have expected quite a fight judging by the number of fully armed police in attendance.
I looked towards the slipway, but it was bare, Splendiferous had gone.
As I was getting into the car, a Gendarme came running up to me.
'Is this your wallet and mobile phone Monsieur Hamilton?'
'Oui; Merci.' I took the two items, very glad to get them back. The only item missing now was the listening device which I had left on the boat when I fled. It would be somewhere in the Mediterranean with the motor yacht.
It was about two hours later that they dropped me off at my hotel. My first step was to phone Willem to thank him for alerting the police. The Gendarme officer had told me that a Dutchman had phoned and had been extremely insistent that they go and look for me immediately as I was in grave danger.
Willem was immensely relieved to hear my voice but upset to learn that we had lost the boat and the tracking device. I told him that I would phone him again after a decent night's sleep when I was feeling in better shape. I also decided that it would be better to call Peter Brown in the morning after I had decided what to do next. He wouldn't be too pleased that my plan had gone wrong, and I wasn’t up to the task of explaining at this moment in time.
My next step, before I slept, was to find a restaurant and have a decent meal. Finally, I went to my room and slumped on my bed. I woke about five hours later still fully dressed.
I had survived another close encounter of a dangerous kind.
Chapter 10
In the morning, when I went downstairs to settle my account, the receptionist handed me a message. I had to report at the local Gendarmerie as soon as possible. The Gendarmerie also fronted onto the Royal Canal and was only about two hundred meters away from my hotel. I wandered over to their offices after I had breakfasted.
While I ate my breakfast, I made the difficult telephone call to Peter Brown, the owner of Splendiferous. I told him that his boat had left Sete, and I had no idea where it had gone. Needless to say, it wasn’t a particularly easy conversation. He was so upset that he didn't even ask me how I was after my imprisonment. He did tell me that he was in the process of making an Insurance claim. The fitting of a tracking device and the taking of other steps to prevent the theft of the motor yacht would greatly enhance the chances of his claim being met. We didn't exactly part friends.
While I was waiting in the reception area of the Gendarmerie, my mobile rang.
'Vince Hamilton.' I answered.
'Good morning Vince, it's Inspector Baird here, in London.'
'Good morning Inspector, you are the last person I expected to phone me here.'
'Is it convenient to talk to you now Vince?'
'Well, believe it or not Inspector I am currently waiting to be interviewed by an Inspector in the French Gendarmerie.'
'You are still in France then?'
'Yes, I am still in Sete, but I hope to be going home today.'
'Would you be able to do a little job for me on your way home?'
'That would all depend on what you want me to do.'
'I would like you to hire a car and go and visit the scene of a murder of a British couple that happened yesterday. '
'Why can't you send one of your own men?'
'Same old story Vince; the French police don't want us sticking our noses in what they view as their business until they have sorted out what happened for themselves. It is an extremely sensitive issue.'
'But surely they won't allow me near the crime scene?'
'I have a Gendarme contact in the area who I have helped out on a number of occasions. He owes me a favour and when I phoned him he said that you could come in as a reporter, but you must not say that you are attached to the British police. He will issue whoever I send with a permit that will allow them onto the scene.'
'When do you want me to go there?'
'Today, if that is possible.'
'If I agree to go for you, how do I meet this contact of yours?'
'You need to locate the Gendarmerie in Chambery in the French Alps. The permit, authorising you to be allowed onto crime scene will be waiting for you there. My friend Inspector Mortine will have arranged it for you.'
‘You would prefer if I visited the site today.'
'Yes, I think that it is crucial that you get there as soon as you can.'
'It is now 9.15am, and I am waiting to see the Inspector in connection with a boat theft and events that I was involved in which occurred here yesterday. When the Inspector is finished with me, I will go and get my hire car and set off for Chambery.' I didn't want to give the Inspector details of my adventures in Sete as it would take too much too long to explain.
'Thank you very much for doing this for me Vince. If you have any problems contact me.'
'I will be in touch Inspector as soon as I have something to report.'
'Talk to you later Vince.'
The line went dead.
What an extraordinary request. As an outsider, not even speaking the language, I didn't see how I could help, but I had nothing planned for today, so a visit to the French Alps would be an intriguing diversion.
My meeting with the Gendarme Inspector in Sete didn't take long as he only wanted to confirm a couple of points about the boat theft and why I had been trussed up in the storeroom. I was on the road heading for Chambery by 10.30am.
After a stop for lunch, I arrived at my destination in the middle of the afternoon. I managed to find the local Gendarmerie and had a letter of authorisation in my possession shortly afterwards. I was fortunate that the Gendarme, who gave me the document, spoke English remarkably well. I asked him a few questions about what had happened.
A family had been parked on a dirt track in a forest, just to the south of Lake Annecy, when a gunman had opened fire. The two parents had been shot dead, but the children had survived. A motorist, out for a drive in the woods, had arrived on the scene and found the children wandering around in a dazed condition. There was also another body at the scene who was a cyclist. He obv
iously had arrived in the area as the shooting was taking place. The gunman didn't want any witnesses, so he had met his end in a hail of bullets. No trace of the person who carried out the shootings has been discovered.
I was given detailed directions as to how to get to where the incident took place. Inspector Baird's Gendarme friend must have had considerable influence as I was impressed with the level of information and assistance I received.
I set off for Lake Annecy to try and find the forest road that would lead me to the dirt track where the shooting took place.
After a few errors, where I ended up at a dead end and had to retrace my tracks, I eventually found the right road. The fact that I was now going the correct way was confirmed by a road block where I had to show my permit before being allowed to go further. As I got close to where the shooting had taken place, I was stopped again and told to leave my car at that point and walk.
The first thing that I saw was a car with its rear rammed into a mound of earth at the side of the road. It looked as if someone had reversed at speed into the mound. The front doors of the BMW five series were open. All the windows had been shot out, and there was broken glass everywhere.
I noted the registration of the vehicle, LH54THL, so the car was English and from the London area.
Fifty meters away from the car I saw a pool of blood and a bicycle. That must have been where the unfortunate cyclist, who had arrived by chance just as the murders were being committed, had been shot.
There were a lot of people dressed in dark blue boiler suits scouring the ground, obviously police looking for clues. I was surprised that nobody gave me a second look, and I was free to wander around all over the areas of the site that were not in the process of being searched.
The only other fact that I observed was that a vehicle had accelerated extremely hard, and skid marks had been left in the gravel road. Someone had wanted to get away in a hurry.
I had another quick look around, took some photographs of the scene and went back to my car. I hadn't gained much other than the registration of the car, but perhaps that might be all that Inspector Baird needed to develop his case.