Diamond in the Blue: D.I. Simpers Investigates (13 page)

The two men exchanged glances knowing that neither was telling the whole truth.

***

'When was he found, Malin?'

Simpers scanned the large dismal room. The noise deafening from a bank of machines which sorted, compressed and bailed all manner of containers and packaging used on the ship.

'About thirty minutes ago, sir. But I don't know how long he has been here. He won't tell me,' replied Malin as he struggled to make himself heard above the noise of the machines.

Simpers' cabin steward had taken a heavy beating. Both eyes were closed and swollen, his flesh broken by a hard object of some sort. His right arm rested lamely by his side as he lay slumped against one of the machines. Simpers concluded he had been on the wrong end of a baseball bat or some similar weapon. The young man winced in pain with every breath. Simpers assumed his ribs had received the same treatment as his arm.

'Who did this to you, Joki? I know someone has been bullying some of you, Malin here has told me all about it. You need to tell me who did this if I'm to help you, do you understand?'

'Please, sir, I fell in the dark. That is the truth,' replied Joki.

This was the second time in as many days that young members of staff had maintained their injuries were due to a fall. Simpers concluded that if he had managed to stay on his feet at sea, experienced crew were well able to deal with the movement of the ship.

'I'm sorry to say, Joki, but I don't believe you. We both know somebody has beaten you badly. I need to ask you again. Who did this to you?' said Simpers.

'I've told you, sir. No one hurt me. I just fell,' replied Joki as he began to slip into unconsciousness.

'They have a lot of power over us, sir,' said Malin. 'He won't tell you anything. The problem is, sir, they are very clever at hiding who they are. We just know that if we say anything, things will get worse.

Simpers nodded in understanding of what the Commodore's steward was telling him. The problem was it didn't help. As a first-aid crew member arrived to attend his cabin steward's injuries and transported him to the medical centre, Simpers noticed something glistening in the light from where Joki had been slumped. He retrieved a small key from the painted floor surface and held it up to the light.

Ten minutes later Simpers was standing in front of phone A6/76. He placed the key in the lock to one side of the glass panel. It fitted.

The Gibraltar dawn gave way to a bright morning. A light breeze encouraged a row of pennants strung high on the ship's superstructure to dance in unison. The sky was clear except for the Levant cloud that had shrouded the rock in a damp mist.

'Isn't it a great view, Mr Simpers,' said Amelia as the two friends took in the panorama. 'Just think of the tales this place has to tell. All that military stuff. Isn't it fascinating?' she added.

'I'm not sure the French or Spanish think of such things in quite the same way as we English. Anyway, I guess you're right,' replied Simpers.

The two of them spent a little while watching the passengers disembark the ship and make their way to a row of neatly parked minibuses on the dockside.

'Are you going up the Rock, Mr Simpers? If you look over there, you can just see the cable car. Better than walking don't you think?' said Amelia.

'After Madeira I've had my fill of gondolas, or cable cars, or whatever you'd like to call the things. If I do go up it'll be a taxi for me. But I tell you what, I'm told there is a graveyard somewhere in Gibraltar where some of the men that died during the Battle of Trafalgar are buried. It would be fascinating to see that,' said Simpers.

'You're right. It's actually called Trafalgar Cemetery and I've been there. It's just outside the city walls at the top of Main Street. If you're like me, it'll set the hairs on the back of your neck tingling,' replied Amelia.

'I thought sailors were buried at sea rather than graveyards,' offered Simpers.

'I think most of the sailors who died in the battle were. I'm sure I've read somewhere that there's only two that actually died at Trafalgar in the cemetery. It's still a fascinating place though, so peaceful,' said Amelia.

'How's your head by the way? I'm told you had another of what you call your interesting days after we sailed from Madeira,' she added.

Simpers winced as Amelia's question reminded him of what had happened over the last couple of days. As if compelled to do so by the auto suggestion trick the magician had pulled, the detective touched the crown of his head with a reluctant hand. He winced again.

'It's healing nicely, Amelia,' replied Simpers unconvincingly before continuing, 'nice of you to ask but I'd much rather concentrate on spending a pleasant day ashore. Are you going into town?'

'You bet we are,' said a voice a few feet behind Simpers and Amelia. They turned around to see Jonathan standing almost at their shoulder. 'You two can't half gab. If we stay on board much longer they'll be pulling the anchor up and be halfway across the Mediterranean,' said the young man.

'We're in port, Jonathan,' replied Amelia giving him one of her mock stern looks. 'So there won't be any anchor to pull up.'

As they crossed from the open deck to a wide lobby, Simpers closed the heavy mahogany door that separated the outside world from the surreal surroundings of the ship's interior.

'Don't forget, you two men. If we're going up the rock you need a coat. It might be nice and warm down in the town. But it gets bloody cold up there. You know what they say about monkeys, nuts and freezing…' said Amelia.

'Er… I think we get the picture,' said Simpers as each went their separate ways to retrieve what they needed for the day from their cabins.

***

Half an hour later the three companions found themselves at the head of a small queue waiting to disembark the ship.

'Why are we having to go through that detector thingy to get off the ship,' said Jonathan, 'We didn't need to do that in Madeira, did we?'

'I don't know really,' replied Simpers, 'I guess all this terrorism stuff you hear about on the telly, well, that might have something to do with it.'

'Terrorism… Old farts on a tin tub who need a zimmer frame to catch their breath… I don't think so,' said Jonathan, a look of incredulity spreading across his face.

'Not so much of the old farts from you, Jonathan. I know you think anybody over thirty-five is ready for a care home, but just look around you, young man. In fact look at the two people standing right next to you – so one more wisecrack and it'll be you who needs a home and men in white coats,' replied Amelia.

'I didn't mean Mr Simpers, I was just…'

'I know what you meant, Jonathan. When you reach the stage of having hairs growing out of your ears, just think back to what you just said about zimmer frames,' said Amelia.

Jonathan looked at Amelia. He hadn't a clue what she was talking about.

Simpers looked to his two table companions as he listened to other passengers and the queue grumbling about the delay. He couldn't tell Amelia and Jonathan about the gems theft. That fact was known only to him, the Commodore and Deputy Captain… plus of course whoever took them. The steward who’d unlocked the exhibition room and discovered the glass cases open had sensibly locked the door again and spoke to the Commodore directly. As far as the passengers' were concerned, the exhibition was closed temporarily so that a maintenance issue be rectified. As for the delay in disembarking, Simpers knew he was to blame for that. He'd taken the precaution of asking the Commodore to step up security for everyone disembarking or joining the ship. He knew it was a long shot but putting himself in the mind of the thief, or thieves, he guessed they would hang onto their swag fully expecting Simpers to be watching like a hawk at the first port of call.

'Come on, you two, stop arguing. Is it a long way into the centre?' said Simpers as they strolled through the cruise terminal building and out into the bright sunlight.

'Not really, it'll take us about fifteen minutes to get from here to Casemates Square. We can have a nice drink then watch the world go by before we take a look at Main Street. What do you think?' said Amelia.

Simpers didn't like the idea of a fifteen minute walk but once more thought of his doctor's advice, so decided to bite the bullet. The three companions followed a stream of other cruise passengers, all seemingly headed for the same destination. It may have been December, but Simpers was pleasantly surprised at how warm it was. Sunbathing weather it wasn't, but the bright sun took the edge off a sharp breeze.

'Watch out, Jonathan, you'll get yourself killed,' said Amelia as she pulled the young man back from the curb. Jonathan cursed the traffic flying past and looked at Amelia in confusion.

'They're driving on the wrong side of the road. What's up with them,' said Jonathan.

'Technically the place may be part of Britain, but it is attached to Spain… but don't tell anyone, they get a bit touchy about that,' replied Amelia as she winked at Simpers.

Now safely across the offending road, they passed through the old town walls and entered into Casemates Square. The air was now still and allowed the sun to deliver maximum heat. Around the perimeter of the square were a range of shops and several restaurants. Outside each one, people sat lazily under large grey parasols as they took their refreshments. Amelia marched her two companions to an empty table nearby. Within seconds of taking seats, a neatly dressed waiter asked them for their order.

'Do you serve Saddleback beer?' asked Simpers.

'Of course, sir. Will that be one pint or two?' replied the waiter as he turned his attention from Simpers to Jonathan.

'Two, I think, and I'll have a pint of lager shandy,' said Amelia.

The two men looked at her with a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

'What? Aren't women supposed to drink pints?' said Amelia before continuing, 'We ladies get just as thirsty as you blokes, you know… It's the 21st century after all.'

The two men, without consulting each other, decided it best not to answer Amelia back. Each sensed one of her little traps. They had no intention of getting the hairdryer treatment on this occasion.

Just then, Simpers hunched his shoulders into his neck at a sudden movement of the parasol. It had started to collapse, or so he thought.

'Good God, Mr Simpers. You are jumpy today. Mind you I suppose you're not too keen to get another bump on the head, are you,' said Amelia.

Simpers took Amelia's comments in good spirit as he looked up to see the parasol, which was now fully closed.

'They are clever aren't they,' said Amelia before continuing, 'they react to the breeze. If the air is still, they open. If the wind gets too strong they close automatically. Good eh?'

It was only then that Simpers noticed similar parasols on other tables performing the same trick. He felt embarrassed for overreacting. He knew that she was onto something in guessing how unnerved he still felt.

As the effects of the beer kicked in and Simpers relaxed a little, the three friends chatted easily to each other and watched tourists coming and going as they crossed the square. From somewhere on the far side of the open space Simpers heard the sound of a less than melodic voice accompanied by an even less melodic trumpet. Straining to see where the music was coming from he noticed two dishevelled figures making their way around the square. Within seconds, a hand had appeared at their table on the end of which was fixed an upturned hat. The man's intention was clear, he expected money to be placed into it.

'Not today thank you,' said Amelia in a stern voice to the stranger with the hat. The man smiled maniacally back at Amelia. Before she had chance to send the man on his way more forcefully, the hand disappeared, as did the rest of the man.

'What happened to him?' said Jonathan.

'Look over there. See the policeman? Well those lot did,' replied Amelia.

'Which lot?' asked Jonathan.

'…Bit of a game, really. Buskers usually work in teams, there'll be one or two musicians – if you can call them that. Then there's a couple of collectors. But most important of all are the spotters. I can see two, no, three of them. They keep watch for the police. As soon as they see a Bobby, they give the buskers and the guys collecting the money the nod and off they all pop. Don't worry, as soon as the police disappear, they'll be back,' explained Amelia.

Amelia's assessment was correct and just as she had predicted, as the Bobby had moved out of the square the team was back within minutes, and so the gang continued.

'Right, chaps, drink up and let's get going. Plenty to do in the couple of hours we have,' said Amelia in a tone that was not to be contradicted.

The three of them set up the steep hill of Main Street. The road was thronged with tourists as they window shopped and made use of the cafes which seem to be located every thirty yards or so. Simpers was particularly taken on how many jewellery shops there were. One thing in particular caught his attention.

'What do you think of that?' said Simpers before continuing, 'every one of these jewellers has a sign in the window welcoming passengers from the Sir Francis Drake… that's our ship.'

'Don't be too surprised, Mr Simpers,' said Amelia, 'they have a similar sign for every cruise ship that calls in, so the 10% discount they're offering us is about as exclusive as rain in Manchester.

As the intrepid travellers continued up Main Street, Simpers caught a familiar-looking figure in an expensive looking jewellery shop to his left. To his surprise he realised it was the Deputy Captain. What was that man doing, he thought. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the gems theft he mused. He distrusted the officer but he couldn't believe the man would be so stupid as to be seen in broad daylight trying to fence the jewels. Then again, he thought, hiding things in plain sight can and does work. After all, he had the most precious of all the gems on the ship in his cabin safe. Simpers logged the Deputy Captain's visit to the jeweller in the villain part of his brain, then returned his attention to his two companions.

'Here it is. Trafalgar Cemetery,' said Amelia.

The three friends had just passed through the old defensive wall and now stood by a set of painted railings reading a red cast-iron sign plate that had been attached to it.

'Here lie the remains of some who died of wounds at Trafalgar after Nelson's great victory…'

They passed through the open gate and walked down a short slope that led to the first of many aged gravestones, their inscriptions almost obliterated through the ages. Considering how close the graveyard was to the road the space was a haven of peace and quiet. Here and there stood other tourists in absolute silence as they took in the solemnity of the place. Others were lost in their own thoughts as they read the information boards which listed the occupant of each grave.

'It makes you think doesn't it,' said Jonathan,' all those wars and stuff. Thinking about it, nothing changes does it?'

Simpers looked at the young man and thought how right he was.

***

'Goodness me, it's like getting into Fort Knox having to go through this stupid scanner business again,' said Amelia as they joined the queue of passengers to once more embark the liner.

'Better safe than sorry,' replied Simpers.

'You're not going to start that terrorist stuff again are you, Mr Simpers?' said Jonathan.

'No, no. I'm just saying…' he replied.

'And I'm just saying I need a drink… A soft drink for the record, gentlemen,' said Amelia, 'Anyone like to join me?'