Above and Beyond

Chapter 12

  Charlie Watkins, sorry ‘Mr Smith’, was waiting for us when I landed my latest toy at El Campo and Sue took to him at first sight; he was soooooo cuddly.

  ‘Tell that to the Zoomer twins and their friends’ I thought.

  David and he had been busy in the last few days, they had already amassed a mountain of paperwork, with the prospects of more to come so they commandeered a large room close to Charlie’s suite, after all he was dead, and un-wanted eyes might not believe in ghosts, and set up shop. Maria willingly became their I.T. specialist and Caroline the gofer, and quickly they all stopped thinking that I was on a wild goose chase to impress my new bird and became ‘maybe’s’. Charlie was the first to spot something, it was an item on the boat yards final invoice, which, all things considered, was ‘fairly’ reasonable when taking into account the age of the vessel and the added re-sale value, overall everyone considered it VFM (value for money) - it was a small thing – ‘install and connect new MTM fresh water tank’ – what’s an MTM he asked, half bored and half slightly intrigued, and a quick phone call to the boat yards bosun and they were told that it was his slang for ‘made to measure’, ‘and a very nice stainless steel tank it was to, very top of the range’. The rest of them had all thought that MTM was a type of cheap plastic container, ‘now show me the receipt for this very expensive item’ he said, and there were blank looks all round. That got them really looking - the new electrical system, whilst the norm for a larger yacht with loads of gadgets and a large on-board generator was way OTT for a small, sparsely equipped Folkboat, ‘and’, the boson added ‘he had been instructed to put in spurs all over the place – just in case they might one day be needed – it was their money after all’.

  ‘Was there anything else that he had though had been a bit odd?’ David asked.

  ‘Loads’ he said, ‘but we have three sayings in this profession, ‘the owner is always right’, ‘they always know best’ (as long as they pay up at the end I’m a happy little chappie), and then there is the standard ‘Universal Tradesman’s one – ‘if the authorities start digging, just answer the question’, don’t volunteer anything, it might end up costing you, but being as you aren’t the Taxman or Police – well let’s see, the biggest thing was my hardest job, they had me remove the half decent inboard diesel engine, along with its propeller, shaft and stern gland, repair the rudder and hull, remove the water intake and exhaust, remove the fuel tank, steam clean the whole engine bay to get rid of all the diesel wiffs’, tart up the whole area - and replace it with a dinky little outboard on the arse end. They said that they would appreciate the extra room, which in a way I agreed with – if they were going to sail around the world. My next largest job was stripping her bottom, and I did a fair to middling job of that if I do say so myself, but then they must have got this anti fouling on the cheap, mucky red it looked like, to me it was no better than undercoat. Then they had me build in a couple of ‘secret’ lockers, ‘just in case they wanted to bring a few extra fags back’, it’s not illegal to build them for it, just to use them for it – and neither of them smoked, and the only other biggish thing was the loo. Most boats that size make use of a bucket and a piece of rope or a porta loo from the local chandlers if they want to go posh, but they had me fit a really flash electrically operated one in the bow, that would be hidden away for the majority of the time under the bow bunk, if I had spent that amount of money on it I would mount it pride of place in the centre of the cabin and charge anyone to use it’.

  Individually these items didn’t amount to much but ‘looking at the bigger picture’ it started to get them all thinking, and Caroline thought that the word ‘they’ that the Boson kept on using didn’t seem right, after all Shaun was the owner, Franklin was only his friend.

  ‘Let’s look at this from a different perspective’ David said, after bringing Sue and I up to speed (ugh). I had just given Sue the quickie guided tour of El Campo, the grand tour would have to wait until mananã, although she had insisted on going into the volcano on her own, it was ‘women’s business’ apparently.

  Sue was looking forward to seeing if David had made any progress, but deep down she seriously doubted it, then she spotted a sheet of paper in front of David, headed DELIBERATE DISAPEARANCE, and she almost fainted, perhaps she wasn’t really ready for this after all.

  ‘It’s only a hypothesis, one of several’ David quickly said after following her gaze, ‘we have no proof that it is, but it might help us if we approach the whole thing from a different angle’. Then he started making different sub-headings, WHY? WHEN CONCEIVED? HOW TO VANISH? MONEY? FINAL DESTINATION? HOW TO GET THERE? and finally PRIOR UNUSUAL INCIDENCES?

  ‘I think we can play around with most of the headings ourselves’ he continued, ‘but we do need your help on the last one, can you think of anything out of the ordinary that happened, in let’s say, the year prior to the removal of the Halcyon from the water’.

  ‘Why go back a year from then’ she shakily asked.

  ‘Because’ David said, ‘if it is indeed a deliberate disappearing act then by the time the boat came out of the water then all the planning, preparations and special acquisitions would have been made, all they were doing after that was putting the plan into action. Have a think about it and try and let me know in the next few days if you can think of anything, however trivial you may think it is’. With every step David was becoming more and more of a believer.

  Over the past few years El Campo had evolved into a micro City, with me as its unelected mayor so it took me more than just a couple of hours to show her everything, but as we happily did the rounds, and doing or watching something ‘really interesting’ she would pause and scribble something in a small notebook ‘just something for David’ she would say.

  Three days after our inaugural meeting we were back in the conference room, along with a very distraught Charlotte, but unfortunately David didn’t have ‘that’ sheet of paper in front of him – he had a pile of them, and they all had an extra sub title - PRO’S AND CONS.

  Just to prove that they had been earning their keep, except for Charlie that is – ghosts don’t eat, David went through each of them, but fortunately majority of entries were the same:-

  WHY? – To start a new life, most likely ‘together’. Most other choices i.e. ‘running from the Mafia, mother in law etc. had been discarded after making a few enquires.

  WHEN CONCEIVED? - Most likely a lot longer than a year ago – see MONEY.

  HOW TO VANISH? – Obviously by using the Halcyon, why waste time and money on her if she was not an integral part of the plan.

  MONEY? – This was a multiple choice answer. Undisclosed lottery win, Left mega amounts of money in a will, ill-gotten gains, third party benefactor, and a few other equally plausible answers, but nothing concrete – the only thing they all agreed on was that there must undoubtedly be a very large amount of untraceable ‘cash’ available to them. Setting several ‘investigating agencies’, that had different ‘skill sets’ to work, they hoped to be starting to see some results quite soon, ‘and Itza apparently was well up for it’ he said, and Sue was even more confused than ever.

  FINAL DESTINATION – Somewhere that would be difficult to find i.e. off the beaten track, somewhere where they would not stand out, and no extradition treaty would be a bonus, warm – they were both sun worshipers, somewhere that would give them a good quality of life – neither of them had ever ‘slummed it’ and everyone agreed that they would not be about to start now.

  HOW TO GET THERE – Halcyon, for a significant portion of the way at least.

  UNUSUAL INCIDENCES – and this was blank – ‘over to you Sue’.

  The first thing that Sue had done after the first meeting was ring Charlotte, and admitted to her that she didn’t have a clue what they were on about’, ‘I am totally at a loss’.

  ‘I think that I might have an answer to that’ she said, ‘you may not have noticed, but my living standards haven’t dropped s
ince Franklin ‘disappeared’. About six months after they set sail (and just before the bank was ‘reluctantly’ about to start slashing his salary cheques) a very nice gentleman rang me from a very prestigious investment management group, which was of course long after that bitch had stopped investigating us all, and asked me ‘if I wanted my dividend payment as a lump sum or as a regular monthly income’? I assure you that I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. When I told him that, I heard him shuffling some papers, and then he came back to me and explained that ‘it looked like the initial moderate investment had originated via a solicitor many years ago, ‘probably a bequest’ that he had received, and had invested it for a rainy day – ‘it was so long ago, perhaps you have forgotten about it.’ Because it was a high risk, fixed term investment, over a considerable period of time etc., etc., wisely invested etc. etc. it had now reached maturity, and although it was ‘a joint account’ it was also an ‘either/or, ‘either of you can claim it’, he said. He explained that I could have a lump sum of ‘oh my god’ or a monthly income of ‘Jesus H Christ’, and if I took the monthly income (which he strongly recommended), I would still be eligible for lumps sums periodically. I chose the monthly income, it would more than compensate for Franklins reducing salary cheques, so he took my new ‘single name’ bank account number – you will never guess the amount of problems I am having with any ‘joint’ accounts – and within days my first cheque arrived’.

  ‘What a wonderful surprise’ Sue said ‘clever Franklin, I bet it was a weight off your mind’.

  ‘Surprise, yes, wonderful, I’m not so sure - last month I rang the group up and explained that I would like to explore the possibility of taking a small lump sum – to get ‘Arthur?’ a new car - well the receptionist said that there was no ‘very nice gentleman’ employed there, and she had never heard of that type of investment, I must have the wrong company. Panic or what – then an hour later the nice young gentleman rang me back, apologised for the that idiot of a receptionist, ‘she’s new’ he said, as if to say that explains it all, ‘and how much was I considering taking as a lump sum?’ When I told him he said ‘is that all?’ Then he asked me if I wanted a new car as well – and perhaps a holiday, ‘as it would hardly affect the monthly income – in fact I was due to have my annual increase shortly and that would more than cover it’, and lo and behold the money was in my account in two days’.

  ‘I still don’t understand why you are worried?’ She asked her friend.

  ‘Well, I was still a bit worried so I rang the Company back again with the same spiel, but first I asked the receptionist (it was a different lady) how long she had been working there, ‘nine years’ she said. I received the same reply as before. I then said that I was becoming senile and please don’t tell a sole that I have called, and she promised that she wouldn’t, all she had to do was fill out a telephone enquiry slip, ‘company policy’, but it only went on the computer, ‘it’s a statistics thing’, she said.’

  ‘Computers hate me’ I screamed, and started to cry (thanks to my amateur dramatic training).

  The receptionist’s Aunt was fortunately in a nursing home (fortunate for me, not for her Aunt) she said, with ‘rapidly progressive dementia’ so she fully sympathised with her and promised ‘not too this time’, ‘and it is a lovely nursing home’ she finished with, although Charlotte thought that her Aunt most likely didn’t realise that.

  ‘What should I do Suzie?’

  ‘Absolutely nothing at the moment’ she said, ‘and don’t tell a sole. Would you like to come out here for a quick flying visit – in a private jet, I would like you to meet some very nice people’.

  ‘When’ she asked.

  ‘Tomorrow’ Sue said - I had told her about El Campo’s ‘clipper’ service from London’s City Airport in the docklands and Charlotte suddenly grasped the urgency of the situation.

  Charlotte had a few other items on her list, but nothing really conclusive, most of them could be put down to ‘good housekeeping management’ on Franklins part, updating insurance policies (but nothing dramatic that would draw attention to them), minor adjustments to direct debit methods of payment etc., showing a sudden interest in the house maintenance – like having the gas boiler changed to a D.B’s one (if you don’t know what that means – don’t ask) when it hiccupped once, engaging a gardener – as he was far too busy, what with his new job and the boat. There was nothing unusual about any of them – if they had been spread out over years – but they all happened within six months, then she remembered that he had also suggested ‘separate bank accounts’ to ‘simplify things’ he said, but when she vehemently refused to even discuss the suggestion he dropped it. ‘That was definitely the road to ruin, marriage wise’ she said.

  Sue’s list was shorter, at the same time as the ‘little’ things were going on in Charlottes household, Franklin apparently had told Shaun that his bank was advising larger account holders to tidy up their ‘affairs’, and were providing bright young things to advise them how best to do this, although apparently he had added that the said bright young things did have a sheaf of policies and other bits and bobs in front of them (that required extra charges) at the same time. You don’t get ‘owt for nowt’ in the banking industry, ‘but I will do it for you for ‘gratis’, and according to Shaun, the first thing that he suggested was ‘separate’ bank accounts.

  Their business accounts were separate, but in the good old days, just after the wedding they did the ‘final’ commitment and became as one, finance wise, but even the dastardly Detective couldn’t fault their decision for changing this arrangement, if there was ever a marriage heading for the rocks it was theirs, it just looked like her husband had arrived on them first. Sue said that she was past caring at that time and just signed everything that he put in front of her, just giving the papers a cursory glance to make sure that she was not signing away anything significant, although a month or so later he had realised that he may have been a tad inconsiderate and offered to make a standing order from his personal account into hers, ‘to cover household expenses.’

  ‘I don’t want or need your blasted money’ she had said, which was more than true, so the matter was dropped.

  There were a few small matters that again could have been deliberate timing or just coincidence, and as they discussed these Charlotte contacted Franklin’s ex-secretary and whispered quietly to her for a few minutes then hung up. When they finished with Sues small list Charlotte interceded, ‘I’ve just had a word with Laura, Franklins Secretary, no directive from above and no bright young things. She was starting to become a believer as well, but she was dreading where that might lead her, especially as she was now firmly in a relationship with Arthur, ‘and what about the money, was it legal?’

  David finally asked them both if there was anything else, however insignificant that they could remember, what they had come up with so far was of great help, especially Charlottes new income – Itza would definitely be getting his teeth into that (who on earth is this Itza that I keep hearing about, she thought, perhaps it is a paper eating Alsatian) he said, but was there anything else that they could think off, ‘any odd bits of behaviour, or anything out of character.

  Sue hesitated for a second, and David quickly picked up on it, ‘anything - however insignificant you may think it is’.

  ‘Well there was the matter of my first car’ she said.

  ‘Now that is really going back some time I thought’ as she continued, ‘one day, just before they bought Halcyon up to Wroxham he (Shaun) had been whispering down the telephone in the hall, - nothing new in that, that is why I was getting paranoid - whilst I was in the kitchen feeding the dishwasher, and I saw, in the reflection of a mirror, him write something on the pad that we keep by it, and then tear it off and put it into his wallet. Bearing in mind my paranoia I found a pencil and lightly rubbed the side of the point across the next page in the pad, just like they do in the movies and it revealed quite clearly the ‘plus??
? sign then the numbers 960 (+960), nothing dastardly, just the registration number of my first car – SUE 960, I will never forget it, she rambled on, not realising that no one was listening to her, it was one of the early mini’s, the ones with the doors that had sliding windows, a cable that you had to pull down on to get out of the damn thing, a pocket in the door designed to take a bottle of Gordons Gin and I used to call it ……’.

  ‘Maldives’ Maria shouted.

  ‘No, Lady Penelope because she was pink’, then she realised that they were not all captivated by her reminiscences. What on earth had the Maldives got to do with her car?

  David grabbed a piece of paper; it was the list of places that either Shaun, or both of them together had ever visited during their time together (he had asked for it earlier), and they had visited there once, just after they completed University, a celebratory holiday, but she hadn’t been overly impressed, it was too flat for her liking – and he circled the name.

  He then grabbed another one, Charlotte’s list – again he circled the name.

  After a bit of hunting he found a printout of a web page headed ‘the best non-extradition countries to become invisible in’ – a tongue in cheek web site, but beggars cannot be chooses - searched around for a few seconds, found what he was looking for and circled it as well.

  Then, as we all watched in fascination (and as we had nothing better to do) he headed to the thick pile of DELIBERATE DISAPEARENCES and started to search through, but Caroline slapped his hand away and went straight to the requisite page and handed it to him, saying ‘alphabetical’, and looking to the skies for divine intervention.

  Charlie then looked at Sue and said ‘a bottle of Gordons Gin?

  She almost gave him a big fat kiss, on his cheek of course, and said to the rest of the table, ‘at least one person listens to a lady when she is talking, and what’s this about the Maldives, and Charlie looked to the skies for divine intervention.

  ‘+960, that’s the international dialling code for the Maldives’, David said, it might mean something or nothing’ then quickly scanned the sheet of paper that his wife had handed him. After a few seconds he said ‘it certainly ticks a few of the boxes, a lot more than most, let’s keep it out. We are going to have to start somewhere soon, and this is now one of the front runners’, and then Sue put it to the top of the pile.

  ‘That reminds me - he called Whisky a stupid Mutt, he’s not - he is a pure pedigree, I just don’t have his papers’, and the rest of the table looked for divine intervention. Sensing their pregnant pause she continued, ‘around that time we were having a very rare evening in, and to save us having to actually communicate in anything other than grunts we decided to watch a quiz show, I quite like them – they improve you knowledge’ she said.

  ‘And may very well shorten your life if you don’t get to the point’ I thought.

  Well, Whisky and I were doing fairly well, definitely better than ‘him’, when the question ‘what is the National Currency of the Maldives was asked. Well I had no idea, so I asked Whisky if he knew. I had been there, albeit a very long time ago, and am pretty good at remembering those sorts of things, but Shaun believes that the US Dollar is the only currency worth taking abroad, so I was most surprised that before Whisky could even try and answer the question, he said ‘how do you expect that stupid mutt to know that it is the Maldivian Rufiyaa’ then he went even more quiet than usual, as if he wished that he had kept his mouth shut.

  ‘Are you sure he said ‘the Maldivian’ Rufiyaa? David asked.

  ‘Yes I am sure, I was totally gob smacked (I think that’s the word isn’t it?) that he knew the answer, but even if I had remembered, I would have only said ‘the Rufiyaa’.

  ‘Exactly’ David said, ‘that’s Banker talk’, and placed the piece of paper squarely in front of him.

  Sue and Charlotte then looked at each other and nodded, and Sue quietly said to me ‘please don’t think us rude but if there is nothing else, can we both be excused. We have decided that neither of us wants the stress of what is going on. If you find out anything, either way, please let us know, but other than that please keep us blissfully ignorant’.

  I could see where they were coming from, to us it was a glorious mystery/adventure but to them it was a major part of their lives, they had gone through enough in the past few days.

  David reiterated that there was still no positive proof either way, it was all circumstantial at the moment, but he thought that it was a wise decision to make, and he would keep me informed every step of the way if either of them got curious.

  I stood, to leave with them but Sue put a hand on my shoulder and said, ‘you stay darling, I think some major decisions are about to be made, anyway I want to take Charlotte for a ride on the railway’.

  ‘Just as long as you don’t get one of those blasted tee shirts’, I shouted after them.

  An official gift shop had been set up in the ‘Grand Central Station’ selling ‘approved’ merchandise, but outside several ‘entrepreneurs’ were selling other items, including tee-shirts with my photo superimposed over a steam engine, and I’ve just been ‘pulled’ by ‘Randy Andy’ on the front of them, and and the Doctor says that it will take weeks to get my knees back together again on the back. ‘Please, my name is Andrew!’

  Due in part to the rising demand from the general public to see what was going on behind the walls of El Campo (the other part was to give Marcus something else to do) a huge length of 15inch gauge miniature railway track had been laid around the place. There were kilometres of tracks, an engine shed, a picnic area with a small amusement park, a signal box (AKA the Airfields Control Tower), and a raised spur the wound its way high above, and out of the way of flying balls, from the golf course, all watched over by David’s beady eyes (and hundreds of camera’s). The miniature railway engines (exact replicas of the real things – and not so miniature) had a huge amount of track to play on so they built up surprising speeds, especially the steam loco’s, although for safety reasons, and so as not to distract me if I was playing a round of golf, only electric trains were allowed over the golf course. It was proving to be a huge tourist attraction, bringing valuable grockles into the surrounding areas, but it could all be bought to a grinding halt if I appeared in the grand central station, unless I was covered from top to toe in oil and soot (driving one of the ‘shielders’ – my favourites). Even hopping on at one of the other halts was now causing problems so the only way for Sue and Charlotte to indulge themselves (at a subsidised rate of course) was by themselves, almost.

  ~~~~