Remember Remember (21 page)

She smiled and made a digging motion as if using a spade, “It gets deeper Alan, the hole gets deeper.”

“Which is where you’ll be if you don’t shut up,” he growled, but his face showed that he was clowning around.

She responded with the same grimace, “You need me in one piece mister, and healthy and back home so you’d better look after your princess hadn’t you?”

“Stick close sweetheart, Bugsy’ll look after you doll,” he laughed and returning to his normal voice from the corny American accent he took hold of her arm and asked her if she’d care to go for dinner. He had requested and received a table for two, dining next to an enormous window overlooking the sea. The meal was sumptuous consisting of up to 7 courses; if the stomach could take it, and silver service and fine wines combined to make what he thought was a romantic feast.

After the meal he walked her back to the Venice bar where a man played the piano and sang the romantic stuff only Italians seem able to do. Even the pop songs he recognised as English tunes seemed far sexier when sung in Italian. She drank champagne cocktails, he lager and they moved closer as the evening progressed.

He took her hand, smiled and whispered, “When we go to the cabin maybe we can push the beds as close together as we are now.”

“Why would you want to do that?” she smiled.

“I thought there might be a chance for a gentleman to be loved after such an exciting and fulfilling evening.”

She patted his hand. “Well darling, even if I wanted to tonight, I’m afraid it’s not quite appropriate.”

“Not quite appropriate, what do you mean?”

“It’s the wrong time of the month darling, do you understand now?”

“Bloody marvellous, fucking marvellous!” he hissed.

“Language Alan, remember your language,” she teased

“Yes but…”

She pulled her hand away but leaned close to him. “You really are an arrogant, self assured pig; to think that I’d sleep with you on the first night, just because we’ve had a good meal together and José bloody Feliciano back there can sing a good love song.”

“Sorry love,”.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, maybe just maybe in a couple of days you might get lucky,” she said smiling coyly and flashing her eyes. “but that’s if the Italians don’t get there first. Don’t they look gorgeous in their uniforms, I like a man in a uniform. Did I ever tell you about the time…”

He held his hands up and interrupted pleading, “Spare me Jacky, oh God, please spare me the detail! Look it’s nearly midnight, let’s go back to the cabin and get some sleep.”

“And that’ll be all you’ll get tonight mister,” she smiled.

“I know, I know,” he said as they rose to walk back to their cabin.

He lay on his bed listening to the sea rushing past the boat as the Costa Victoria steamed towards Greece, slicing its 78,000 tonnes easily through the gentle waves. Her breathing was quiet and regular as his thoughts turned to the episode in Bari. “You’re getting slow, remember SEE. That second move was not effective at all, you lost vital seconds, if that first guy had gotten off his feet quicker you might not be here now. You know you only have seconds so why the hell did you try to throw him. That cost five to ten seconds, you’d better smarten up. Christ, you ache as well, you’re not fit, too much food and certainly too much booze. It’s the gym for you tomorrow, it’s free so use it every day to get a couple of pounds off or at least turned into muscle because that could have been a total cock up,” he thought, then smiled to himself and chuckled softly; “which is more than you’ll get from Jacky tonight that’s for sure. James fucking Bond would have dropped the pair of them without ruffling his suit and brought her back to give her the best screwing she’d ever had but all I got was a torn shirt, about five torn muscles and the opportunity to pull my own plonker.” He squeezed his penis through his shorts and mused, “She might at least have given me a blow job, ah well, let’s see what tomorrow brings.”

November 26
th
, 3.00 pm, Alma Lodge Hotel. Stockport.

The five men sat round a low coffee table, tea, sandwiches and coffee had been served and they were alone in the lounge. Sergeant Lawrence was briefing them and had discussed his interview at the police station and his talk with Alan at the Brown Cow.

“He lives on a road called Sandiway in Bramhall, number 78, a four bedroom detached, it’s quite an affluent area. We’re quite lucky though, because a house nearly opposite, number 73, is for sale and empty. I have spoken with the estate agents and the owners reluctantly accept that we can use the house for observation purposes, but say they may still need to show prospective purchasers around. When I asked how many people they had shown around in the last month it was none, so I don’t think you’ll be disturbed too often.

Major Rock finished his tea and replaced the cup on the table then responded, “Thank you Sergeant, do you think you could escort my three colleagues to this house at the end of our meeting?”

“Yes sir, no problem, now what else do you need to know?”

“We will need to gain access to Johnson’s property, obviously without him knowing, therefore any help to do this would be good.”

“Johnson is a creature of habit sir, he seems to spend a great deal of time in the Brown Cow pub so we could have him watched in there without suspicion, it’s a coppers pub being close to the nick and while Johnson’s in there you could do your business at 78 Sandiway.”

“Good Sergeant, you take my colleagues to Sandiway and then meet me at the Brown Cow, I’ll need directions but I’d like to drive myself there. Say we meet at five pm if that gives you enough time to get to Sandiway and back.

November 26
th
, 5.00 pm, Brown Cow, Stockport.

Major Rock stood at the bar with Sergeant Lawrence, they both had ordered Robinson’s bitter and the Major placed his pint down on the Formica bar after taking a generous mouthful.

“Is this lady serving us the Jacky who went on holiday with Johnson?”

“No she’s not, it’s a little confusing actually because this barmaid’s called Jacqui also but she’s not the one.”

Lawrence called to her for two more pints and enquired where her companion Jacky was and why she wasn’t working her regular shift. The response startled both men.

“She won’t be back for at least a week Sergeant, haven’t you heard she’s gone on holiday with Alan again, I thought all the regulars knew; they went yesterday.”

“Bloody Hell,” hissed the Major, “I’ve missed him by a bloody day.”

Lawrence turned to him, “It’s OK sir, it’s OK, we know he’ll come back so let’s just see if we can find out where he’s gone.”

“Sorry Sergeant, carry on,” whispered Rock.

Jacqui had now served the two pints and given Lawrence his change.

“Take one for yourself Jacqui.”

“Thanks.”
“Do you know where they’ve gone on holiday,” enquired the sergeant.

“All I know is they were flying to Venice and then I think she mentioned going on a cruise, but I don’t know where to. Lucky Jacky eh, going cruising with her beau!”

“What do you mean ‘beau’,” interrupted the Major.

“Well they’re an item now aren’t they, this is the second time they’ve been away together and she bought a whole load of new clothes for this trip. She might have something special to tell us when they return; you never know what might happen on these romantic cruises do you?” Jacqui gave a knowing wink, smiled at the two men and then left to answer a shout for service from the snug.

Rock turned to Lawrence and whispered, “We need to know where the hell he’s gone because he may be meeting the same group he met in Olu Deniz. If only I’d moved faster I could have been on that bloody boat with him.”

Lawrence wanted to stay and drink in his favourite pub but knew the wise thing to do would be to go back to the station and begin the lengthy task of finding out where Jacky and Alan were cruising. He asked the bar maid Jacqui one last question before departing. “You don’t happen to know where they booked this holiday do you.”

She was pulling a pint of Carlsberg lager for a customer in the snug but turned her head to answer, “I’m sorry I don’t, but it’s probably a local one in Bramhall or Stockport. Sorry I can’t help you.” She flipped the lager pump off and took the pint to the snug then came around the bar to the till and on passing the sergeant she asked, “you seem very interested in her, what’s she been up to?”

“Oh nothing love, it’s nothing to trouble yourself about, we’re going now, see you again soon.”

November 27
th
, Stockport Police HQ, Chief Inspector Burrows’ office.

The Chief Inspector read from a sheet of paper, “We now have the details of the cruise as follows: Alan Johnson and Jacky James boarded the Costa cruise ship Victoria on November the 25
th
in Venice. The ship departed Venice at 18.00 on the 25
th
heading towards Bari on the heel of Italy. It left Bari at 18.00 on the 26
th
sailing for Katakolon in Greece, which it will depart at 18.00 on the 27
th
.” The Inspector looked up at his audience of the Major, his colleagues from SBCT11 and Sergeant Lawrence to confirm they were listening then continued, “That’s today gentlemen. On the 28
th
it will cruise into Santorini, leaving there at 13.30 and then cruise onward to Mykonos. On the 29
th
it will cruise into the Greek island of Rhodes and stay there for the day leaving at 18.00. On the 30
th
it will cruise toward Dubrovnik in Croatia and finally cruise back to Venice on the 1
st
of December.” He put down the paper and continued, “Well gentlemen, what do you think?”

“Johnson’s got a damn good brain in his head, he could meet his colleagues anywhere on that trip; he’s so close to the Middle East. Those Greek islands or even Dubrovnik could be travelled to easily from Turkey or Syria.”

“I agree Major, so what do we do?”

“We have only two options really, we either board the ship or wait for their return, however boarding the ship may be a waste of time. Johnson may have already met his group so the journey would be fruitless and if he hasn’t already met them we may be seen and make him change his plans,” stated the Major; then growled, “shit gentlemen, shit; I suppose we have to wait. Wait and see. God, what an opportunity we may have missed.”

“Sir, this at least gives us a good opportunity to search Johnson’s house and set up surveillance equipment without being disturbed,” declared Lawrence.

“Yes it is, but I think that will be a job for you and my colleagues. I think my task is to get aboard that ship. I may at least be able to observe what he does in Rhodes and Dubrovnik and even on the ship.” Rock looked at his audience then at Lawrence and continued, “you wait for my return and prepare the ground here, your task will be to plan the search and surveillance operation of 78 Sandiway. The Sergeant nodded agreement and the meeting came to a close.

November 28
th
, 78 Sandiway, Bramhall.

Access to Johnson’s house was achieved ensuring no tell tale signs of entry were left, and the alarm system was disabled electronically. A full search of the house was undertaken and listening devices placed in the wall cavities to ensure little chance of discovery. With British Telecom’s help both phones and computer email was able to be accessed at will and at 73 Sandiway listening and recording equipment was installed along with day and night vision movement sensing systems.

The result of the home search revealed little and talks with Johnson’s bank and credit card companies revealed a normal spending pattern from monies deposited many years ago supplemented by an army pension. Searches of the gardens and his car were fruitless and it was decided the group would be patient and await Johnson’s and Rock’s return on the first of December.

November 29
th
, Costa Victoria, Sun Terrace bar.

Jacky drank champagne cocktails, Alan lager. They sat overlooking the sea having left the island of Mykonos in darkness, but they could still see the twinkling lights slowly disappearing as the Costa Victoria set her overnight course for Rhodes.

She looked well, the sun had caught her white skin and brought out freckles on her nose, upper cheeks and shoulders. Her arms had reddened and were now turning brown, her simple low cut dress hugged her figure, which he observed, hadn’t really changed since they were in Turkey.

“Where the hell does all the food go in her?” he thought, “certainly not to her hips or belly. Perhaps she makes herself sick after each meal.” He chortled then looked down at his own body, especially his stomach and thought that 6 sessions in the gym had done sod all for his pecs. “Old age, everything starts to go south, including your manhood which seems to do a damn sight more looking south than north these days.”

“Alan, Alan,” whispered Jacky.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming love, what do you think of the cruise so far?”

“Fabulous, absolutely fabulous, the food, the service, the bars, restaurants, entertainment, it’s out of this world, I really am very happy and grateful that you brought me.”