Rothschild shook her head. ‘Poor Oswald. He’s in for a shock.’
‘Not as much as the arseholes who took Nina.’ Eddie took the gun from inside his jacket and checked the magazine.
‘Jesus, put it away!’ cried Tom, eyes wide. ‘You don’t want to get caught with that. The Antiguans had a big crackdown on guns after some tourists were murdered a few years ago. Shoot someone and you’ll get anything from twenty-five years to the death penalty.’
‘Didn’t seem to worry the bloke who took the statue,’ Eddie replied, slipping it back out of sight. ‘You know any local cops?’
Tom nodded. ‘I’ve got some friends.’
‘Could be worth bringing ’em in. Pretty sure I’ll need backup.’
‘But the police won’t land on a private island without a good reason.’
‘They’ve kidnapped Nina, for fuck’s sake!’
‘They don’t have proof that she’s there,’ Rothschild pointed out.
‘She’s right,’ said Tom. ‘They’d need a warrant or probable cause to go and look.’
‘All right, then they can fucking come and arrest me for trespassing!’ The Yorkshireman frowned, then an idea came to him. ‘You’ve got distress flares, haven’t you?’ His friend nodded. ‘Okay, if I fire off a flare, that means either I’ve found Nina, in which case they can come ashore and arrest ’em for kidnapping, or I’m being shot at, in which case they can come ashore and kill the bastards! How does that sound?’
Rothschild and Tom exchanged looks. ‘I’ve heard better,’ the latter admitted.
‘This is how you come up with all your plans?’ exclaimed the elderly woman, incredulous. ‘Random improvisation? It’s amazing that you’re still alive!’
‘I’m not hearing anything better, and the clock’s ticking.’ Eddie regarded the case. ‘All right, Prof, I need the angel. Tom, we need to set things up.’
‘I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?’ muttered the older man, but he nevertheless went back into the cabin to search for a flare.
‘You’re really going to do this?’ asked Rothschild as she opened the case. ‘You’re going to give them the statue, even though they want it for something dangerous?’
‘Yep.’ Eddie took out another bubble-wrapped item; this time, it was the real angel.
‘You are insane, you know.’
‘You’re not the first person to say that. But I’m not planning on letting them keep it. Why do you think I want to get the cops involved? I’ll talk to Ozzy too, see if we can bring Interpol and the State Department into it. Pretty sure a US citizen being kidnapped should get their attention, especially when it’s someone famous like Nina.’
‘Nina,’ she echoed, with a wistful nod. ‘You really do love her, don’t you?’
‘Course I bloody do,’ said Eddie, surprised by the question. ‘I’m married to her, she still puts up with me even after all the crap we’ve been through — and she’s having our baby. Why would you even have to ask?’
Her eyes couldn’t quite meet his. ‘No reason.’
He was sure there was one, but he had neither the time nor the inclination to discover it. ‘Right,’ he said, removing the angel from its padding. ‘Let’s get this party started.’
21
The journey around the island showed Eddie two very different sides of Antigua. The waters of the western shore, facing the Caribbean, were a calm and incredibly clear turquoise. By the time the Flirty Lady had made her way along the southern coast and turned north into the Atlantic, however, things had become considerably more choppy.
The dancers on the main deck were coping with the swaying floor with surprising ease. Tom had rounded up a group of young, mostly German holidaymakers. The promise of unlimited alcohol magically ended any questions about why the free cruise was being offered, and after one of the revellers connected an iPhone to the yacht’s speaker system to pump out an endless succession of Euro dance tracks, further conversation became impossible anyway.
The bridge provided only a modest amount of soundproofing. ‘I must be getting old,’ Eddie complained loudly after closing the door, deciding that Rothschild had made a very sensible decision by staying ashore. ‘Modern music all sounds the bloody same!’
Tom, at the wheel, grinned in agreement. ‘If they’d just stuck one track on repeat, I doubt I’d know the difference.’ He pointed ahead. ‘There it is.’
‘That’s Elliot Island?’ From this distance, only trees were visible above the rocky shoreline. ‘Where’s this place with the church?’
‘Eastern side. You can’t see it from here.’ He turned the wheel to the left. ‘We’ll go up its west coast and around to the north, then head back south past the village. That should bring them out to keep an eye on us, and give you your distraction.’
‘Did you talk to the police?’
‘Had a word with one of my mates. He says they’ll be ready for us, but they won’t come out unless something actually happens. I asked him about the people who own the island; apparently they keep well in with one of the local politicians, so he’s a bit cagey about going on to private property without a damn good reason.’ Tom nodded at a ship-to-shore radio. ‘Once you fire a flare, I’ll call them in, but it could take them a while to get here from Nelson’s Dockyard.’
‘Hope they’ve got something faster than a pedalo. All right, I’d better get changed.’
A few minutes later, Eddie had stripped down to a pair of swimming shorts. Tom gave him a wolf whistle. ‘Fuck off,’ said the Yorkshireman with a grin as he donned a scuba tank, then put everything he was taking with him in a bag that he clipped to the cylinder. ‘Okay, where’s the best place to drop me?’
The Flirty Lady was now circling the island’s north-western shoreline. Tom indicated a small bay. ‘That should put you about three quarters of a mile from the village. I’ll time it so we go past when you get there.’
Eddie surveyed the coast. ‘What’re the waters like?’
‘This side of the island’s shielded from the really big waves coming in from the Atlantic. Shouldn’t be any trouble to swim.’
‘Sharks?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Yeah, that’s helpful.’
‘They don’t work to a timetable. But you’re more likely to see stingrays than sharks. They’re generally friendly — don’t bother them and they won’t bother you.’
‘Me, bother anyone?’
They both chuckled, then Tom opened the bridge door and called to a white-shirted crewman keeping an eye on the partygoers. ‘Melvin! Take the wheel for a minute.’ The Antiguan hurried up to the bridge. ‘Right, let’s get you into the water.’
He helped Eddie down the stairs. ‘Hey, are we going swimming?’ asked a cheerfully drunk blond German.
‘Just me,’ Eddie replied. ‘Lost a contact lens overboard.’
‘Ah.’ The young man regarded him with owlish curiosity before smiling. ‘Ah! That is English humour, yes? Monty Python, Mr Bean? I get it!’
‘That’s the one,’ Eddie replied, impatient. ‘You know there’s free beer over there, right?’
The youth danced unsteadily away between his friends. Eddie shook his head. ‘Kids. Who’d have ’em? Oh, wait. Me.’ He sat on the boat’s port side and put on a pair of flippers.
Tom stood in front of him to block the view of anybody on shore. ‘Looks clear to go.’
Eddie peered past him. There was no sign of any human activity on this side of the island, but that didn’t mean it was deserted. He tested the scuba regulator, then pulled a diving mask over his eyes. ‘I’m ready.’
His friend nodded. ‘Melvin! Reduce to eight knots!’ He waited until the chug of the diesel engine slowed, then turned back to Eddie. ‘Good luck.’