Chapter 9

9

SUNDAY NIGHT

After giving Anna a very quick summary of what Diana had told me, I dialled the number of the public phone in Portofino. It was answered after just one ring.

‘Hi, Di, did you manage to get through to the private investigator chap?' Her words came tumbling out in a rush and she definitely sounded flustered.

‘Hello, this is the private investigator chap. My name's Dan Armstrong. Your sister tells me you're in a spot of bother.'

‘Oh, thank God.' I could hear the relief in her voice. ‘I'm scared stiff and I really don't know what to do.'

I tried to sound as comforting as possible because she definitely seemed to be really spooked. ‘Why don't you start by telling me all about it?'

‘It's Mario, the guy I'm with.'

‘What about him?'

‘That's the thing. I don't really know him that well. It was all a bit of a whirlwind romance. Don't get me wrong, over these last few days, he's been fine, but then everything changed last night when we met up with another boat.'

‘Another boat? What happened?' Surely not the Regal Princess …

‘We were moored up just off the coast not far from here – I'm in Portofino, I don't know if you know it – when the other boat came alongside. Mario had been tense all evening and when the other boat arrived, he became dead serious and he told me to lock myself in the cabin and stay there. At first I did but then I sneaked out and took a peek while they weren't looking and I saw them loading stuff from the other boat onto ours.'

‘Was it a big boat?' Her answer reassured me – to some extent.

‘Not really, about the same size as ours.'

‘And what sort of stuff were they bringing aboard?'

‘At least a dozen heavy boxes. It took two men to lift each of them. They stowed them down a hatch near the front of the yacht. The whole thing took less than twenty minutes or so and then the other boat disappeared off into the night.'

‘And Mario?'

‘Ever since then, he's been like a cat on a hot tin roof: irritable, nervous. I tried asking him who had been on board the other boat and he just told me to forget about it. I didn't mention that I'd seen anything, but I feel sure there's something dodgy going on.'

Two boats meeting in the dark and people transferring heavy boxes sounded very suspicious to me too. I had a feeling that young Ms Greensleeves had got in with some questionable company but, by the sound of it, there didn't appear to be a connection with Van der Groot's murder. ‘Where are you now? Are you sure Mario isn't listening?'

‘No, we landed here in Portofino a bit earlier this evening and had a meal down by the harbour. Now that he's met up with the other two guys, he said he needed to have a private word with them, so I told him I'd go for a little walk. I'm at a public phone and there's nobody close by, so I'm sure it's okay.'

‘Who are these other two guys you've met up with?'

‘I don't know. I think one's called Abdel or something like that, and I'm pretty sure they were speaking to each other in Arabic, but they're scary guys and I didn't like the way the bigger one was looking at me. The meeting was clearly pre-planned and Mario said they're going to be coming sailing with us for a few days, but I'm really frightened now and I don't know what to do. That's why I called Diana.' Although I knew her to be a grown woman of twenty-three, she sounded more like a scared child and I felt instant sympathy for her.

‘Don't worry, I'll help you. Where's Mario planning on sailing off to?'

‘That's the thing, he wouldn't say. He just said we were going to go south and not to worry, but I'm terrified at the thought of going off God knows where with these two scary guys, and I still don't know what's in those boxes.'

I felt sure that the first imperative was to get her away from these dubious characters as soon as possible. ‘Right, Heather, I think we've got to get you out of there. As it happens, I'm only just across the bay from you in Rapallo and it's probably only a half-hour drive from here to Portofino. I think the best thing is for me to drive over and pick you up. Once I know you're safe, you can tell me the whole story and we'll see what our next step has to be.'

‘That would be amazing, thank you so much.' I could hear the relief in her voice. ‘But what about my stuff…?'

‘Have you got your passport, your wallet?'

‘Yes, they're here with me in my handbag.'

‘That's all you need for now. Just leave everything else.'

I did a bit of quick thinking. Although the harbour area of Portofino is pedestrians only, I had seen cars parked further up towards the Carabinieri barracks, so presumably I would be able to get access that far.

‘Listen, it's going to take me about half an hour but I'll need another ten or fifteen minutes first to go back and get the van.' I looked at my watch. ‘It's just gone nine now so, realistically, I would hope to be with you about nine forty-five. I want you to stay clear of Mario and his friends for the next forty-five minutes and I'll pick you up from the main piazza. It's just before you get to the Carabinieri station and you'll see lots of parked cars there.' I tried to think of a suitable landmark to help her. ‘It's about a hundred metres further on uphill from the Alexander McQueen shop. Have you seen that?'

‘I'm very close to it now. In fact, I've been looking in the windows.'

‘Right, well, carry on up the hill to the square with all the parked cars and I'll meet you there around a quarter to ten. I'm driving a dark-blue VW minivan. Okay?'

‘Thank you so very much. By the way, I've got long, blonde hair and I'm wearing a white top and a grey skirt.'

I stuck the phone back in my pocket and reached for my wallet, but before I could say anything, Anna leant across the table and tapped the back of my hand. ‘Don't worry, you go and get that girl. I'll look after the bill and I'll take care of Oscar.'

‘Are you sure? You didn't hear what she said, but it didn't sound good.'

‘That's the impression I got from listening to your end of the conversation. Just go. I understand, really. Oscar and I'll meet you back at the hotel and I'll have a word with them to see if they can find somewhere for her to spend the night. If not, she can share with me and you'll have to make do on the floor with Oscar or on the couch downstairs.'

I got to my feet and leant across to kiss her. ‘I love you to bits, Anna. You know that, don't you?'

‘Just go, you idiot. Tell me all about it later.' She gave me a warm smile in return. ‘And I love you too. Now go.'

I phoned Heather's sister in the UK while I hurried back to the hotel and told her what I'd learnt and what we were going to do. She sounded very relieved and grateful. I collected the van and set off, but it took me until ten to ten to get to Portofino. The little town is at the far end of a promontory sticking out westwards from the Ligurian coast and, although the narrow road that winds its way around the coast is only about ten or twelve kilometres long, I had to contend with a near constant stream of traffic coming the other way and even a huge truck that blocked the road for about five minutes. When I finally nosed my way into the square amid all the parked cars, I slowed to a crawl and looked around carefully, trying to spot Heather. In fact, she saw me first, because a figure in a short skirt emerged from the shadows and stepped towards the van as I inched my way down the hill. I opened the window and looked out. ‘Heather? I'm Dan. Hop in.'

A broad, beaming smile spread across her face and she hurried around to the passenger side. She climbed into the van, slammed the door, and then surprised me by reaching across and giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. ‘Am I pleased to see you! I've been skulking here in the shadows feeling absolutely terrified.'

‘Well, you're safe now. What I suggest we do now is I'll see if I can find a parking space where we can sit, and you can tell me exactly what's been happening. The more I think about it, the more I think we may well end up calling in on the local Carabinieri . They're just up the road from here.' Seeing an expression of concern on her face, I did my best to reassure her. ‘It's all right, they're good guys. I met several of them earlier today.'

‘You've been talking to the Carabinieri ? About me?'

‘No, about a completely separate matter. I'll tell you all about it later. First things first, let's find somewhere to park and you can tell me the full story. Okay?'

I had to do two circuits of the car park until, just as I was beginning to think there was no hope, a very swish-looking Mercedes pulled out of a space and I made sure I drove straight in before anybody else could take it. I switched off the engine and turned towards Heather. She suddenly seemed very vulnerable and I did my best to sound reassuring.

‘My girlfriend is checking with the hotel where we're staying to see if they can find a bed for you for tonight so, don't worry, you aren't going to be left out on the street. Now, go through the whole thing again, starting with how you met Mario until you phoned your sister.'

She repeated her story, and I learnt that she had first met Mario at a disco in Pisa only a couple of weeks earlier. I had a feeling her mother would probably have taken a very dim view of the fact that she had been prepared to go off alone with him on a yacht only five or six days after meeting him, but that was up to her. Maybe this most recent experience might give her the scare she needed to make her start behaving a bit more responsibly but, again, that was her affair, not mine.

Mario's boat sounded as if it was a reasonable-sized motor yacht, but nothing like on the scale of the one being used by the TV people. She and Mario had been sailing up and down the coast and had spent a couple of days at the Isola del Giglio before coming here. I recognised the name of that island from the catastrophic shipwreck of a huge cruise liner just off the island ten years earlier. Mario had chosen to drop anchor almost a kilometre outside Portofino bay the previous night, telling her that all of the closer moorings had been taken, but more probably it had been a pre-arranged rendezvous point with the mysterious other vessel.

They had stayed on their mooring throughout most of the day today and it had only been late this afternoon that he had finally brought his yacht into the harbour and moored up at the end of the quay. The two of them had come ashore for an early dinner in one of the quayside restaurants. Although it was clear that things had been going reasonably well between the two of them until the previous night, I got the impression that Heather had been having increasingly serious doubts over the past twenty-four hours about the longevity of their relationship, even before the two scary Arabic speakers had put in an appearance.

The more I listened to her account of meeting up with the unknown boat at eleven o'clock at night and the clandestine loading of the suspicious boxes, the more I was convinced that this would have to be a matter for the Carabinieri . The trouble was that she clearly didn't want me to go to the authorities. I tried to work out whether this was out of lingering affection for Mario or whether she was worried for herself, but she stubbornly resisted my attempts to get her to accompany me to Lieutenant Bertoletti right now.

The other reason why I wanted to get the police involved was because of the synchronicity of the timings. In spite of my original feeling that her problems weren't connected with the death of Van der Groot, maybe I had been too hasty in dismissing any connection.

The mystery boat had come up alongside them at around eleven last night and, coincidentally, at that exact same time Jerome Van der Groot had been travelling back from the Regal Princess towards Portofino in a little rubber dinghy – and a huff. As far as I could gather, both Mario's yacht and the TV people's luxury yacht had been in the same sort of area just under a kilometre offshore. What if Van der Groot in his rubber dinghy had stumbled across what sounded very much like suspicious activity and had been stabbed as a result? This would explain why the dinghy in which he'd been travelling had never returned and, in fact, had been found not far from the body a hundred metres or so further down the coast from the harbour entrance. Could it be that these two stories were intertwined after all?

In the end, against my better judgement, I let myself be persuaded to accompany Heather down to Mario's yacht, which was moored at the far end of the quay, to make sure that she could collect her things and remove them without running into difficulties with him or his two companions. After that, she promised she would come with me to the Carabinieri .

I left the van where it was, deciding that at this time of night, there was unlikely to be a traffic warden on duty and having no desire to pay the outrageous tariff of five euros an hour for the privilege of parking there. As we walked down the narrow street towards the sea, there were still quite a lot of people milling around, but it was nothing like as crowded as it had been earlier.

When we got to the quayside, there were two surprises in store for us. The first was that the table outside the very expensive restaurant where Heather had left Mario and the other two men was now empty. The second surprise was considerably greater. Heather stopped dead and grabbed my arm with one hand, while pointing along the quay with the other. I followed her gaze towards the little remaining piece of fishing port at the far end and saw bright lights illuminating a motor yacht moored stern-on to the quay, with figures moving around on it and near it. The figures were mostly wearing Coastguard or Carabinieri uniforms and among them, I quickly recognised Officer Solaro standing on the quay, speaking into his phone.

We hurried along the quay towards him and as soon as he finished his conversation, I went up to him. He gave me a broad smile when he recognised me and an appreciative look at Heather with her very short skirt.

‘Hello again. You can't keep away, can you, Signor Armstrong?'

‘Something like that.' I indicated Heather. ‘This young woman has a very interesting story to tell. Is the lieutenant about?'

He nodded. ‘He's just gone back on board the yacht.' I glanced across and read the name of the boat on the stern – La Fortunata , registered in Livorno, not the British Virgin Islands. Maybe Mario didn't need the tax breaks.

‘What about the owner of this yacht and his friends?' Heather spoke excellent Italian.

‘They've been arrested and taken into custody. The lieutenant will be interviewing them later.' This confirmed my impression that something very dodgy had been going on, but I found myself wondering how the Carabinieri had managed to react so quickly. Had they had a tip-off?

Heather looked shocked when she heard about the arrests, but I nodded approvingly. ‘Excellent, because, from what I've heard from Heather here, there might be some serious charges coming their way.' I caught his eye. ‘Including a possible charge of murder.'

I saw his eyes open wide. Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone again and made a call to the lieutenant, who indicated he would come straight away.

When Lieutenant Bertoletti appeared, we shook hands and I introduced Heather. I then explained that she had until recently been a passenger on board the yacht that he and his officers were busy searching. His eyes lit up when I went on to outline what Heather had told me about the happenings of the previous night around eleven and the very real possibility that the murdered man from the Regal Princess might have inadvertently witnessed something underhand going on. By the end of my account, the lieutenant was looking very interested indeed.

‘Thank you, Signor Armstrong. That's fascinating.' He looked across at Heather. ‘I'm going to need to interview you, Signora, but that doesn't have to be right now. You look as if you could do with a good night's sleep. I'd be grateful if you would leave me your passport just to remind you to come back and see me again.' After she had handed over her passport, he transferred his attention to me. ‘If I could leave her in your care for tonight, Signor Armstrong, could you possibly see that she comes back again tomorrow morning for interview? By that time, I will have had a chance to question the three men in custody and I may be able to tell you more about just exactly what happened last night. I have a feeling you'd like to be kept informed as this case develops.'

This sounded like an excellent plan and I immediately agreed. ‘Definitely, thank you. What sort of time would you like us here?'

‘I'm sure Officer Solaro would be only too happy to come and pick you up from Rapallo at, say, nine o'clock?'

‘That would be excellent, thank you. Just one thing – would it be all right if my girlfriend and my dog come over to Portofino with me tomorrow? I'm afraid I'm going to be very unpopular with both of them otherwise.'

‘No problem at all. Now, I need to get back on board the yacht. We've already located the suspicious boxes in the forward hold. We have yet to open them but we're pretty sure we know the contents.'

‘Could I ask how it is that you've arrested the men and identified the yacht so quickly?' No sooner had I asked the question than I realised there was only one logical answer. ‘Of course, you've had them under observation, haven't you?'

He smiled and gave me a little wink. ‘I couldn't possibly comment…'

I smiled back. ‘Understood. One thing: what's the situation with regard to the other yacht, the Regal Princess ? The captain said they're heading for France. Might they be leaving some time soon?'

‘No, they've been told to stay here until I give the authorisation for them to leave. From what you've just told me, I definitely need to speak to the captain and to a number of them again. As you say, they were moored quite close to this yacht and they may have witnessed the other vessel last night.'

‘Did you get any further with what I overheard in the toilets?'

He gave a frustrated snort. ‘I asked each of them if they'd been to the toilet in the restaurant and I discovered that no fewer than ten of the twelve had used the facilities. How much were these people drinking? Anyway, the bad news is that nobody admitted to saying the words you heard, although the one guy whose voice you thought you might have recognised did look decidedly shifty when I spoke to him.'

‘Oh yes, Edgar Beaumont. By the way, I checked his name on Google and he's described as a senior TV executive. It looks like most, if not all, of the people on the yacht are from the world of TV.'

‘Not just that, but they're all from the same TV company.' He flicked through the pages of his notebook. ‘GreyratTV – that's one hell of a name – and guess who the CEO is… or rather was? That's right, the big boss was none other than our murder victim, Jerome Van der Groot.'

So as well as Head of Programming, Van der Groot had actually been the CEO. ‘That might explain why nobody seemed to be particularly saddened by his death and why Susie Upton was so subservient to him. I'd love to be a fly on the wall when you interview her in more depth.'

He looked across and caught my eye. ‘You can be more than that if you can spare the time. That way, you could listen to the men's voices one more time as well, in case you can pick out the other man you heard. We could do that tomorrow morning after I've spoken to this young lady. You're welcome to sit in and ask any questions of your own, but only if you can spare the time and if your girlfriend and your dog will allow it.'

‘That sounds like a very good idea. I'll talk to Anna about it tonight and I look forward to seeing Officer Solaro and his speedboat tomorrow at nine. I'm sure Anna will understand that it's something I need to do.'

Even as I said it, I found myself wondering whether she would.