‘Not much. People milling around. A few drunks. The sight of you making your way to Le Loup, but the angle isn’t right to show you boarding.’
‘What aren’t you telling me?’ I’ve known Rhett too long for him to begin hiding things from me now.
‘There was a figure. A man. Walking in the direction of the yacht before you arrived. He had something in his hand that we think might’ve been a crowbar.’
‘Or perhaps an umbrella.’
‘It would be an odd thing to be carrying around in the middle of summer, and at that time of night. Plus, the footage shows him leaving around the same time you were found in the water. He wasn’t carrying anything at that point.’
I still for a moment, my mind processing the implications before I realise I’ve raised my hand, my fingers hovering above the wound on the back of my head. I lower it again, noting Rhett’s curious look. I have no intention of telling him that I still suffer from headaches, or that my concentration is poor. I’m told the symptoms will last another week. Or perhaps much longer. I push away the residual negativity caused by my doctor’s earlier visit. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that sheer will gets a man much farther than most people recognise.
‘It could be someone taking a tool to their boat, then leaving without it.’
‘Possible,’ he agrees. ‘But not probable. Not that time of night.’
‘And the passerelle?’ I know he will have arranged divers to search for it.
‘No outward signs of tampering to the sunken railing. No signs of an abandoned crowbar, either,’ he adds with an unhappy huff. ‘But then, if I was going to crown you one, I wouldn’t drop the weapon into the same body of water afterwards.’
‘If you wanted to commit murder, you mean.’
‘And make it look like an accident.’
We both fall silent, retreating into our individual thoughts. Though one of us not recently suffering an attempt on their life has less to think about, evidently.
‘Benny boy called with a million questions.’
‘He’s been to the house.’ I resist the urge to shrug. ‘You know he likes to think he knows all. Sees all. Everything has an angle with him.’
‘Yeah, and they’re all obtuse,’ he comments dryly. ‘I told him fuck all. What about you?’
‘I spoke to him through the gate intercom. I told him I wasn’t well enough for visitors.’
‘Good call. I bet he loved that.’
‘Ben didn’t hit me with a crowbar,’ I assert, knowing Rhett’s mind as I do.
‘I wouldn’t put it past him,’ he mutters. Then he adds, ‘Your bike was found.’
‘What?’ I wince, a pain splitting my head as I turn it too quickly, pressing my fingers to my temples. I’d much rather talk about my motorcycle than my cousin. ‘The Ducati? From March?’
‘Unless you’ve lost another motorbike I don’t know about.’
‘Where was it found?’
‘In the same state at the back of a chop shop. It seems someone decided the Ducati was a little too pretty to break up. It had been resprayed, a pretty good job, by all accounts.
‘I’m delighted,’ I answer deadpan, expecting him to get quicker to the pertinent points.
‘The plates have been swapped, and it’s ready to go.’
‘Ready to go where?’
‘Wherever they offload it, I suppose.’
‘You mean to say it’s been found but not recovered?’
‘I know it was your favourite toy for all of five minutes, but you got the insurance money for it, right?’
‘That’s not the point.’ And, yes, it was a new toy and one I liked a lot. But that’s not what this is about. ‘I’m not in the habit of letting people steal from me.’ It’s usually the other way around. Not that I’m a common thief. More an uncommon one. In fact, a chop-shop is an apt analogy for how I do business.
‘Consider it the price of information.’ The investigator had set up a meeting with the head honcho crim. But if you’re not interested . . .’ He allows his words to trail off, like a carrot dangling from a piece of string.
‘I told you, I no longer care.’
‘But this has nothing to do with Rose,’ he says with such gravitas that my mind ceases to whirr. ‘Two accidents in five months, or two attempts on your life? You already know which my money is on.’
‘Tell me,’ I demand. ‘Tell me everything.’
‘The owner of the shop isn’t your run-of-the-mill criminal. He’s not some thug for hire and is mixed up in some pretty heavy