Deadfall: The Jack Drummond Thrillers, #2

By Rena George

Inspector Jack Drummond faced an internal police investigation after a murder suspect he'd been questioning committed suicide in a police cell. The death hadn't been his fault but the top brass clearly had it in for him. He sees his posting from Glasgow to Inverness as his punishment.

At a low ebb and still smarting from the injustice of it all, Drummond meets and moves in with Saffron, the glamorous daughter of wealthy Inverness land owner, Marcus Dunbar.

When Saffron inexplicably vanishes, leaving a trail of evidence pointing to Drummond having been involved in her disappearance, he begins to suspect a set up.

As things start to escalate out of his control and he faces an abduction charge, only his new sidekick, DS Nick Rougvie, is prepared to stand by him.

But will his support alone be enough for Drummond to prove his innocence?

With increasing concern over the continued silence from Saffron and the pressure her well connected father is heaping on the police, new evidence emerges. Drummond's abduction charge escalates to murder.

Deadfall is the second book in Rena George's exciting new crime thriller series featuring surprising plot twists, compelling characters and a flawed cop who like to dish out justice with his fists.

If you are a fan of traditional detective fiction in a vivid setting that make you believe you are there, you will love this one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rosmorna
• Release date: Nov 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393475651

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

'I think your man's having a laugh.' Detective Inspector Jack Drummond yawned, shifting his position and stretching his back as best he could in the cramped space of the car's passenger seat. 'I'm calling it a day if nothing happens in the next ten minutes.'

DS Nick Rougvie peered along the dark harbourside. They had a clear view of the My Ariadne. The vessel looked deserted. He was beginning to wonder himself if Jannie Corbett's tip-off had been legit. The drugs should have been collected half an hour ago. 'Something's wrong,' he muttered. 'I'm going to have a nose around.'

'Wait!' Drummond grabbed his arm, nodding to the far side of the quay. 'Something's happening.'

Rougvie jerked back, instantly alert. His eyes searching for what Drummond could see.

'By the shipping containers,' Drummond hissed. 'Can you see him? He's heading this way.'

'Shit,' Rougvie cursed, clocking the hooded figure as it crept closer. 'I knew we should have brought backup.'

Another shape had appeared on the deck of My Ariadne. Rougvie's pulse quickened. The figure raised his arm, warning the man onshore not to advance further.

'We need to get closer,' Drummond said, keeping his voice to a whisper. 'Can you make it to those crates without being seen?'

'I can try,' Rougvie breathed back.

Drummond made a hand gesture. 'I'll circle around the back and grab this guy once the drugs are handed over.'

They crept from the car, crouching down and moving slowly. The man from the ship was on the dockside now. Drummond held his breath, his eyes fixed on the package the man was clutching. The other figure kept coming.

Drummond signalled for Rougvie to hold back. They waited, cowering out of sight, not daring to move a muscle.

'What kept you?' the man from the ship barked. 'Another five minutes and this was going over the side.'

The other man made a sudden lunge and snatched at the package. Drummond didn't see the blade flash until it was too late. 'He's got a knife, Rougvie,' he yelled, as the man from the ship sank to the cobbles and the other took off at speed with the package.

Drummond sprang into action, racing after him. Ignoring the stitch in his side he caught up, making a grab for the man and bringing him down heavily onto the hard ground. The man gave a shout of pain, struggling as the package flew from his hand and the knife clattered to the ground. Pinning him down with his knee, Drummond yanked out his handcuffs, but the man twisted out of his grasp and tore away, sprinting towards the crates on the far side of the docks.

Drummond was fast on his heels, but not fast enough. 'Bastard,' he panted. Where the devil had he gone? Drummond darted in and out of the stacked wooden cases, spitting out expletives. His insides felt like they would burst. He needed to be fitter than this. He stopped, slumping against a crate, wheezing. The man was nowhere to be seen. Drummond straightened, his eyes narrowing as he peered into the shadows. The knife man had vanished.

He cursed again, turning back to where Rougvie was on his knees beside the injured man, frantically trying to staunch the blood flowing from his stomach wound.

'Is he dead?' Drummond squinted down at the injured man.

'Not if I can help it,' Rougvie puffed, pressing even more firmly on the man's wound. 'I haven't called this in yet. I can't get to my phone.'

'I'm on it,' Drummond said, already on his mobile. 'We need an ambulance! Fast!' he ordered when he got a response. 'Down by the dockside. A man's been stabbed.'

He didn't want the guy bleeding to death, not before they had a chance to interview him. 'And while you're at it send the troops down here to the harbour. We have a crime scene.' His eyes were on the package further along the quay. 'At least we've got the drugs,' he said.

'And the knife over there.' Rougvie nodded along the quayside. 'It will have fingerprints on it, so we should get him.'

The first police vehicles arrived within minutes, followed by the ambulance. Two paramedics leapt out and raced towards them. 'We'll take over now,' one of them said as Rougvie struggled to his feet, his hands covered in blood. He looked shaken.

'Are you all right?' Drummond asked.

Rougvie nodded.

Drummond put a hand on his shoulder before turning back to the scene and issuing instructions to cordon off the area and indicating to a forensic officer what he wanted photographed. He was trying not to think about the trouble they would be in over the night's little exploits when they got back to the nick. Drummond may have got away with being a maverick cop in Glasgow, but this was Inverness and he was learning to his cost that they did things differently here.

---

It was an hour before he and Rougvie were summoned back to the station. DCI Fraser was waiting for them. 'My office,' he growled when they walked in. 'Now!'

They followed him into the glass partitioned room that passed for an office. Gavin Fraser spun on his heel to glare at them. 'This had better be good.' He looked from one to the other. 'Explain to me why you two were lurking about on the docks tonight when I knew nothing about it.'

Rougvie gave an embarrassed sigh. 'It was my fault, sir. I had a tip-off something dodgy was happening down there. I should have informed you.'

Drummond stepped forward. 'Don't blame Sergeant Rougvie, sir. It was my decision to check things out before involving anyone else.'

'I see.' DCI Fraser was clearly trying to contain his anger. 'So the pair of you were sitting down there like Laurel and Hardy while drugs were being landed and somebody was attempting to murder the courier?'

'It wasn't like that, sir,' Drummond insisted. 'It was a surveillance op.'

'An unauthorized one, DI Drummond. You went out on a limb, not knowing what you were stumbling into. You took no backup and didn't see fit to include me in your little operation.'

Drummond could see the DCI was only just managing to hang on to his fury. He cleared his throat. 'This has nothing to do with DS Rougvie, sir. It was my decision not to request backup. Obviously, in retrospect, it was the wrong decision.'

Rougvie stepped forward. 'You can't blame DI Drummond for what's happened. It was a tip-off. I had to persuade him that we should even take it seriously.'

Gavin Fraser shook his head, scowling from one to the other. 'But you did go, and a man got stabbed.' His voice was rising. 'And the scumbag that did it got clean away.'

'He didn't get away with the drugs, if it is drugs,' Drummond muttered under his breath, but Fraser caught the remark.

'So, what do you think was in the package, Sherlock?'

Drummond hung his head. It was a stupid remark. Of course, the package had contained drugs. And the slimeball he had chased shouldn't have got away. No condemnation from Fraser could match his own opinion of himself. He'd been stupid, he'd made a bad call and now a man was fighting for his life.

Gavin Fraser's eyes fizzed with anger. 'Here's what we do now. You two will get back down to the docks and interview everything that moves on board the My Ariadne – and no Starsky and Hutch rubbish. I want that crew list and everything the ship's master can tell us about our stabbing victim, but mostly I want to know how drugs were brought into Inverness right under our noses.'

He turned to Rougvie. 'You have another word with your snitch, Sergeant. I want to know where he got the information he gave you. We need to know everything he knows.'

---

Drummond's stare at the deserted streets was resentful as they headed back to the harbour. He hadn't exactly made an illustrious start to his transfer from Glasgow. Maybe he should have taken that first option to resign from the Force after all. He always seemed to be in the firing line for things that were not his fault, well not completely his fault, sod's law played its part. Maybe Fraser was right and they should have gone in with backup, but it had only been a tip-off, and a shaky one at that. They could all have spent the night watching the harbour and left with nothing except red faces and overtime hours that wouldn't have made Fraser smile.

'You shouldn't listen to the DCI, Jack.' Rougvie's voice cut into his thoughts. 'He's only kicking off to cover himself because he thinks he'll get the flack. None of what happened was your fault, or mine either for that matter.'

Drummond frowned. 'The ned with the knife got away. I should have caught him.' He slid Rougvie a look. 'And there's the small matter of the poor bugger who got himself stabbed.'

'Come on, Jack. We couldn't have anticipated that happening, nobody could. You're too hard on yourself.'

Drummond looked away, shaking his head.

A grey dawn was emerging from a dark sky as they approached the harbour and joined the other police vehicles on the dockside. Rougvie glanced at Drummond's unsmiling profile and pulled a face trying to weigh up whether to mention Rachel's call or not. He decided he should. 'I meant to say sooner, but I forgot. Rachel McLeod's been after you.'

'Rachel? Is she all right?'

'She sounded fine.'

'Did she say what she wanted?'

'Nope, only that she needed to speak to you. She asked for your number. She said you once gave her your card, but she lost it. I told her we weren't allowed to give out officers' telephone numbers, but said I'd pass the message onto you.'

Against his better judgement the mention of the woman's name brought memories flooding back – all those dark thoughts he'd wanted to bury forever. Images were already flashing through his head snatching his attention away from the harbour and the job in hand.

Mistakes from the past and the anger that had enveloped him back then were resurfacing all over again. He could see Emily's young face smiling up at him, and he cringed as it was replaced by the scene in that dark alley. Emily Ross was dead, murdered. Drummond swallowed hard. The memories still had the power to destroy him. He might have saved the girl if only he hadn't turned his back on her.

And now here was Rachel McLeod, Emily's mother, asking to see him. What could she possibly want with him now?

Ahead, the dockside was buzzing with activity. The forensic team had erected their own lights and a photographer could be seen carefully recording the minutia of the scene. Drummond forced his attention back to the present. His eyes went to the My Ariadne where he could see a man standing on the deck. He nodded to the figure. 'We'll start with him.'

'That's Abbe Janssen. I did a bit of research on the ship when I got the tip-off from Corbett. Janssen's the ship's master. The My Ariadne is a freighter, registered in the Netherlands. She makes regular trips here.'

'Do we know what her cargo was this time?'

'Plants, Corbett said. At least that's what he was told they were unloading yesterday.'

'Is that when he heard about the drugs?'

Rougvie nodded. 'He said he heard one of the crew on the phone. He was speaking in English.'

The heavily bearded man on the deck of My Ariadne moved to the top of the gangway as they approached. 'How much longer do you plan to detain us?' he called down to them. 'We should have sailed an hour ago.'

The two detectives stepped on board, producing their warrant cards. 'Detective Inspector Drummond and Detective Sergeant Rougvie,' Drummond said quietly.

The man inspected the IDs before offering his hand. 'Abbe Janssen, the master of My Ariadne. How can I help you?'

'We're investigating an attack on a member of your crew,' Drummond said.

'Cas Boogman? I hardly knew him. We took the man on in Rotterdam before we sailed. He kept himself to himself.'

'He met someone by arrangement last night to deliver a package.' Rougvie nodded to the dockside. 'Would you know what was in that package?'

The big man shrugged. 'I have no idea.'

'There's been no gossip on board then?' Drummond asked.

'Not that I am aware. Like I said, Boogman kept himself to himself.'

'Was no one on watch here last night?' Drummond asked.

'Christoffel Visser, the second mate was on duty. I've already spoken to him. He didn't see anything.'

'Nevertheless, we'd like a word with him,' Drummond cut in.

The man returned his cold stare and for a moment Drummond thought he was about to refuse. But he didn't. 'You'd better come this way then.' He sighed.

Drummond and Rougvie were led below to where several members of the crew were gathered in the mess room. The master indicated a handsome middle-aged man in a crisp white shirt. 'These people are from the police, Christoffel. They want to speak to you.'

Drummond smiled. 'Perhaps we could step outside for a minute?'

The man flashed a questioning look to the master, who nodded back, before watching them move to the door.

They climbed back up to the deck. 'This is about Cas Boogman?' the man said, looking from one to the other.

'We understand you were on watch duty last night. What did that entail?' Drummond asked.

'The clue is in the name. I watched.'

'So, you would have seen Mr Boogman leaving the ship?' Rougvie asked.

'Well, err, no. I didn't actually.'

'But you said you were on watch?' Rougvie persisted.

'Inverness is a quiet port. It's not necessary to be so scrupulously observant in places like this.'

Rougvie shook his head. 'Were you on watch or not?' he snapped.

Visser swallowed. He was looking increasingly nervous. 'I was in the wheelhouse, but I may have dropped off for a time. Like I said, Inverness is a quiet port.'

Drummond was running out of patience. 'A man was attacked right under your nose, Mr Visser. How quiet would you say that was?' He narrowed his eyes. 'Were you paid to look the other way?'

Visser coloured. 'Of course not. What am I being accused of?'

Drummond sucked in his impatience. 'We're investigating the attempted murder of one of your fellow crewmen. You were supposed to be on watch, yet you tell us you saw nothing.' The man's increasing discomfort had not escaped Drummond. 'We need you to come back to the station with us, sir.'

Before the words were out of his mouth the man had turned and bolted. There was a splash as he went overboard and hit the water. Drummond shook his head. 'Not a-bloody-gain,' he muttered as Rougvie shot across the deck and gestured to other police officers on the dockside to go in after him. They had already allowed one man to escape, a second one could be seen as careless.

CHAPTER 2

Drummond knew he should take no pleasure from the man's misery, but the sight of Christoffel Visser, second mate of the My Ariadne , still dripping Inverness harbour water on the floor of the interview room, had him turning to hide a smile.

The man's worried look shifted from one to the other as they sat down and Rougvie set up the recording equipment.

Drummond raised an eyebrow. 'Now why did you do that, Mr Visser? Why did you jump into the harbour and force my colleagues to go in after you? Where did you think you were going?'

Christoffel Visser gave a hopeless shrug. 'I don't know. I panicked. Nobody was meant to get hurt, that's what they told me.'

'Who told you that?' Drummond leaned forward.

'Cas Boogman and the man who brought the passports on board.'

'Passports?'

'That's what was in the package. Cas was to hand it over to this guy on the dock and I was to…to turn the other way.'

Drummond ignored the catch in his voice.

'They gave me £250. We've just had a baby. We needed that money,' he added miserably.

Rougvie frowned. 'Did it not occur to you that these people were going to an awful lot of trouble for passports?'

'How would I know? I never expected things to turn out like this.'

'But they did, and someone got hurt, Christoffel. A man you knew got stabbed and you were a part of it.'

Visser turned wide, horrified eyes on him. 'I wasn't part of it! I didn't know this would happen. They said it was passports.'

'So you've told us,' Drummond said. The man had begun to shiver and Drummond was aware of Rougvie's warning glance. He stood up with a sigh. 'We'll get you some dry clothes.'

'Does that mean I can go?'

'The only place you're going is to one of our cells,' Drummond said. 'Think of it as an opportunity for some quiet reflection because the next people who speak to you could be Border Force officers and they don't hang about.'

---

'Did you believe him?' Rougvie asked, quickening his step to keep up with Drummond as they marched back to CID. 'Maybe Boogman also assumed it was passports and not drugs in that package.'

'No chance. He knew it was drugs all right. And I think it was just the tip of the iceberg. I think it was a teaser, a sample of what they could supply.'

'So why stab Boogman?'

'I'm not sure. Something clearly went wrong. Maybe Boogman refused to hand over the package. Maybe he asked for more cash for his part in this. He might have thought he'd been set up but chanced his arm anyway.'

Rougvie shook his head. 'The only way this would make any sense would be if Visser was more involved than he's letting on.'

'My thoughts exactly,' Drummond said grimly. His phone buzzed and he fished it out of his jacket pocket.

'It's DC Faraday, sir. I'm down at the My Ariadne. The captain is getting quite anxious. He wants permission to unload his cargo.'

'Does he now.' A slow smile spread across Drummond's face. 'That's up to Border Force. They should be there by now. Remind me again what the cargo is supposed to be.'

'He says it's plants, sir. Thousands of pots of houseplants.'

Drummond's smile broadened. 'Don't let a single daisy leave that ship until the Border Force people get there.' He clicked off the call and turned to Rougvie. 'As a copper, what's your first thought about Holland?'

Rougvie gave him a wicked grin. 'Amsterdam…the red-light district.'

'Apart from that.'

Rougvie pulled a face. 'Bulbs? Tulips?' He stopped, realization dawning. 'And drugs.'

'Exactly,' Drummond said. 'Drugs. I think we might know where the rest of that haul is.'

---

The master of the My Ariadne, Abbe Janssen, stopped his impatient pacing of the deck and glared down at Drummond and Rougvie as they came on board and identified themselves. He faced up to them. 'Is this your doing? Are you responsible for my ship being impounded?'

Drummond met his accusing stare. 'You've had a visit from our friends in Border Force.'

'My ship is being searched and I demand to know why.'

Drummond frowned. 'Surely your concern should be for the member of your crew who was attacked here? He could have died.'

The big man glanced away. 'Is he all right?' he asked grudgingly.

'Mr Boogman was lucky, his injuries were not as serious as they first appeared. We'll be questioning him when he's released from hospital and asking what he was doing walking off your ship with a parcel of drugs.' He moved his face closer to Janssen. 'If what he tells us implicates you and what goes on aboard this vessel, now is the time to co-operate with us.'

Captain Janssen's bearded face flushed with temper. 'Drugs? I know nothing of drugs.' He fixed Drummond with a furious glare. 'Do you know I could lose my master's ticket over this? The ship's owners in Amsterdam will not tolerate their vessels being involved in any suggestion of drug smuggling.'

Drummond kept up the eye contact. 'How rigidly do you check your crews before signing them up?'

'Clearly not rigidly enough,' the captain muttered, looking up as a uniformed Border Force officer appeared from below decks. His expression was grim and intimidating.

'We need you to step down below, sir,' the officer said stiffly. 'We have some questions and you can perhaps help us with them.'

Drummond stepped back, mirroring the officer's uncompromising expression as he watched the two men move away. He sighed, turning back to Rougvie as they went back down the gangway. This was out of their hands now.

Back in his car he sat for a moment, watching the harbour activities going on around him and wondered why Rachel McLeod had asked for his phone number.

The memory of his last contact with her brought back so many bad feelings. But compared to the nightmare she had lived through; his discomfort was nothing. Some secrets should never be revealed and if that meant saying nothing while the