A Dangerous Arrangement (9 page)

He thought about Alain's curt nod. The first mate didn't bother hiding the fact he resented taking instructions from anyone but the boss.

Memories flashed in his mind of a fifteen-year-old Dean, standing on the deck of a midsized cruiser, fighting to hold it all together.

‘Down there,' he'd said, traumatised brown eyes on Rask's face as he pointed to the stairs leading to the stateroom below.

He could still feel the boy's bony shoulder under his fingers as he told him to stay where he was, that he needn't go down there a second time. It wasn't much, just a small gesture of kindness towards a boy whose world had spun off its axis that day.

Rask sighed and checked the bank of computers in front of him. Dean was strong and confident and in the prime of his life. He'd grown and changed over the years, and so had their relationship, until their roles had almost reversed.

Rask knew what Alain saw when he looked at him. A man past his ‘best by' date and headed for old age.

He frowned at the arthritic pain in his knees and for the first time wondered if he was up to spearheading an investigation of this magnitude.

At least it was a cybercrime.

With luck, he wouldn't have to chase anyone.

***

‘Did you see the photographs on Mr Rask's computer?' Danika hissed the second Alain entered the galley.

‘Why are you whispering?'

‘It's him.'

‘Who?'

‘The guy we met in the Maldives last year, remember? Captain Logan was flying in to go diving, but he got held up and couldn't make it. We ended up taking the yacht to Italy.'

Alain frowned. ‘The Chinese guy?'

‘Yes. The one we met in port.'

She watched the blood drain from Alain's face.

‘I know.' Danika lowered her voice and looked towards the door. ‘Remember how he asked us all those questions? How interested he was in the yacht and the company? I'm certain it's him. I saw the photographs when I went to collect Mr Rask's plate.'

‘Fuck.' Alain sank down onto one of the kitchen stools, like his legs didn't have the strength to hold him up. ‘You're certain?'

‘Yes, but I need you to have a look.'

Alain stared at her with wide eyes. ‘How am I going to do that? I'm always on the bridge.'

‘We have to think of something.' Danika turned and took Alain's dinner from the warmer and put it on the counter in front of him. ‘Eat your dinner.'

‘I don't feel like it anymore.'

Danika ground her teeth together. ‘You must eat, we're sailing through the night.'

Alain looked at the plate then back at her. ‘We'll lose our jobs.'

‘And whose fault is that?' Danika hissed the words. Alain was the selfish product of wealthy parents. His air of entitlement was wearing thin. ‘He's sabotaged the company's computer system. We have to tell them, or the company goes under and we lose our jobs anyway.'

Alain's expression turned cold. ‘The yachting world is small, Danika. Word will get around we broke the clause in our contract and brought people on board. No-one will trust us. No-one will employ us.'

‘
You
broke the clause. You were the one who brought him on board. No-one will trust or employ
you
.'

He picked up his fork and began eating his dinner, his eyes fixed to a spot on the marble benchtop.

‘Alain …'

He looked up and shook his head once. ‘No, Danika. We say nothing.'

Chapter Ten

Marina's eyes followed the musical score. Bach's
Minuet
was a much-loved piece, one her hands and mind remembered. The sheet music served as a prompt, a means of jogging her memory every now and then. Mostly it was to keep them in time.

A total of seven performances, and the violin was singing. She finished the ornamental solo passage with an elaborate flourish, her body no longer fighting the instrument. One by one the other players joined in the coda, building the music to a rousing crescendo before ending on a perfectly timed accented note.

Marina looked up as a burst of applause erupted from the audience gathered in the lounge. Pre-dinner cocktails in hand, they watched, enthralled, as Vlad launched into the Prelude from Bach's
Suite No. 1
, the spine-tingling sound of the cello sending a shiver down Marina's back.

Resting her violin in her lap, she took quiet note of the audience. Vlad had done everything he could to keep her appearance in the quartet low key. Elena was still named on the program as the first violinist, and for every performance Marina had arranged her hair in an up-style, the opposite of the way she normally wore it.

One by one she studied the captivated faces of the audience. In every group there was always one, a fan of classical music, a patron of the symphony, someone who owned one of her CDs and recognised her from the cover. Would she be lucky enough to escape again tonight?

She lifted her violin into position and readied herself to come in with the others. Two performances to go. She'd followed the specialist's instructions to the letter and was growing more positive each day.

Then Vlad caught her eye, and counted her in with a faint nod.

***

An hour later, and Harmon was working hard to get her to the bar.

‘Come on, Marina, I'm tired of talking to these two chumps.'

‘Leave her alone,' Vlad said, ‘it's more important she ice her wrist. You know she's trying to keep a low profile.'

‘Well she's done that, she hasn't even been in the pool.'

‘Normally I would join you,' said Marina, ‘but honestly, by the time I change out of my black garb and do my rehab, I can't be bothered getting dressed again. I'm perfectly happy having a glass of wine in my room. I don't mind drinking alone.'

Harmon shook his head and threw his hands up in defeat. ‘Well, I tried.'

Marina yawned. ‘All this fresh air is making me sleepy. Go and enjoy yourselves and stop worrying about me. Elena will be back next cruise and Vlad will be on a short leash.'

‘She's right, come on.' Vlad clapped Harmon on the shoulder. ‘Night, Rina.'

‘See you in the morning.'

Marina set off in the direction of her cabin. If she were totally honest, she wanted to be on her own in case Dean phoned, even if all he had to say was that he was sending through more images. The mobile reception had become patchy, and the signal had been dropping out all day. The last thing she needed was a crew member approaching her in the bar and saying she was wanted on the satphone. She'd caught Vlad looking at her a few times and she knew he was wondering about Dean. Not that he'd ask. He was too much of a reserved European to do that. But a call on the satphone would be sure to raise a whole lot of unwelcome questions.

She was unlocking her door when someone spoke her name.

She turned around. It was Eli.

‘Oh, hi! I thought you were going with the others.'

‘I am, a bit later.' He shoved his hands in the pockets of his black trousers. ‘I was wondering if we could talk. I need some advice.'

Marina smiled a little. ‘I got the impression you were about to say something the other day but changed your mind.'

He nodded. ‘I don't know what to do.'

Marina unlocked her door and held it open. ‘Come on in.'

A few minutes later they were sitting opposite each other, Eli in the comfortable chair, Marina cross-legged on the bed.

‘I've been offered a first violinist position in the Brussels Philharmonic Orchestra.'

Marina's mouth fell open. ‘Oh Eli! Congratulations! What an unbelievable opportunity.'

‘Thank you.'

‘You're going to accept, right?'

He hesitated. ‘I'm not sure.'

Marina frowned at his subdued manner. ‘Is there a good reason why you're holding back?'

He shrugged and gave a sad smile. ‘Harmon. We're twins. A double act. What would he do without me?'

So that was it.

‘He's a very good viola player. Opportunities will come his way. How old are you guys?'

‘Twenty-seven.'

‘And he doesn't know about the offer?'

Eli shook his head. ‘You're the first person I've told.'

Marina's heart ached for the young musician. To be gifted like that was both a blessing and a curse.

‘I'm thirty-four, Eli. I became first violinist with the SSO when I was thirty-one, and that was considered very young. To be given an opportunity like this at your age is extraordinary, but if you have reservations of a personal nature, of course you have to consider them.'

‘We've never been apart. I would feel like I was abandoning him, leaving him behind.'

Marina wondered what Harmon would do should their roles be reversed. She didn't know him well enough to speculate, and she was reluctant to put that thought into Eli's head. He needed a mentor, not someone playing with his feelings.

‘You're more talented, Eli, you know that.'

He shifted in his chair and looked at the floor.

Marina smiled. ‘I don't profess to understand the twin bond, but I have to admit music has always given me, in equal amounts, the greatest joy and the greatest heartache.'

‘The RSI?'

Marina waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, way before then—always. It caused problems with my brother and sister from the beginning. A violin teacher told my father I had talent, and Dad was determined to give me every opportunity. We weren't wealthy, and my father had to work two jobs to pay for my tuition. My siblings resented that, and with good reason. It took him away from them, ate into their time with him. He should have given them their share, taken an interest in the sports they played. But he didn't, and I've had to accept that was his decision. I became the “special one”.'

Even now, the hurtful comments from years ago made her heart ache with loneliness.

‘And being special's not what it's cracked up to be, right?'

‘You got it.'

‘So, what was the result of the sibling rivalry?'

Marina sighed. ‘Two things. My brother distanced himself. He moved out as soon as he got a girlfriend, and my sister lost all motivation to work. I think her words were “she refused to compete”. After my mother died, Michelle, my sister, decided to keep living with Dad. I think she's finally getting to spend the time with him she always craved as a child, and missed out on because of me.'

‘That's so sad, Marina. For all of you.'

Marina swallowed the lump building in her throat. ‘I know.'

The only way she could make amends was to work and send money. She was determined her father live out his old age in as comfortable surrounds as possible. That meant keeping Michelle at home, caring for him. After all, that's where her sister wanted to be.

‘So you took the position, despite the distance and family tensions?'

Marina leaned forward. ‘How could I not, Eli? I owed it to my father to do my best. He worked his butt off to put me through the New England Conservatory. To not accept every opportunity that came my way would have been a disservice to him, and to the sacrifices he made.'

She let him mull over her words. His situation would be different to hers, but in the end it all boiled down to the same thing. If you took your opportunities and followed the work, someone always got left behind.

‘You've given me lots to think about, Marina.' He blew out a breath and pushed himself to his feet. ‘Thanks for sharing.'

‘You'll work it out.' Marina set aside the icepack and stood up. ‘Talk to Harmon. Talk to your parents. You may be surprised.'

‘Thank you.'

He bent his head and kissed her on the cheek.

Marina blushed and moved past him so she could open the door. ‘Just remember, any well-known musician worth their salt will tell you it took a team of people and many years to get where they are today. Family, music teachers, lecturers and professors who believed in them and went above and beyond the call of duty.'

‘I've never thought of it like that, but you're right. I owe it to them, as well as to myself.'

‘It takes a collaborative effort to get to the top. Those people contributed to your success, Eli. Deny yourself this opportunity, and you deny them.'

He nodded, a glimmer of wetness in his eyes.

Marina reached out and rubbed the top of his arm.

She'd said enough.

Maybe too much.

In an effort to lighten things up, she smiled and waved a hand at the door. ‘Now get out of here, before those two clowns track you down and find you in my cabin.
That
we will never live down.'

Moments later Marina closed the door and took a deep breath. Career decisions of that magnitude didn't come along every day, and she was pleased Eli had felt comfortable enough to come and talk to her.

Not everyone did.

She lay down and dragged a pillow beneath her head, her thoughts returning to Dean Logan. It bothered her that she wanted more of him, when she'd always dated fellow musicians, people in the mould of Vlad and Eli. People who spoke the same language.

Her tribe.

And it wasn't because Dean was handsome and wealthy. Looks and money had never swayed her before. It was something else. Oh, he possessed a strong sense of right and wrong, but it was more than that. He possessed an easy confidence, like he knew he was at the top of his game and certain of his rightful place in the world.

She envied him.

Her phone lit up and a melodious sequence of notes broke the silence.

Marina propped herself up on one elbow and picked up the phone.

Unknown caller!

Was it him?

Unlikely, after the way they'd parted.

Rask, or Detective Mooney?

The phone continued to vibrate in her hand. Could it be someone from the orchestra? In that case, she should let it go through to message bank.