Triple Thread

By John Kennedy

A retired Detective Inspector investigating a suspicious drowning off Whitby on the North Yorkshire coast for a friend. A rich influential Sheik with a secret agenda, a Lebanese psychopathic criminal businessman with no scruples. Three people, different backgrounds, unknowingly converge to change the destiny of the United Kingdom and it's people forever

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781326916732

John Kennedy

I was born in Birmingham of the West Midlands in the United Kingdom on 27th April 1971. Around my thirty-nine years I have seen two sides of life. One side being amazing but the other side has been a nightmare. By reading this you will see everything in my words and also read about medical and world subjects of and around the world.

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Triple Thread

Triple Thread

By

John Kennedy.

Copyright John Kennedy 2017John Kennedy has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents act

1988 as to be identified s the author of this work

This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination any resemblance to actual persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the author's permission.

First published in Great Britain in 2017

ISBN-978-326-91549-0

Published by

Songbird Publications 2017.

Books by the same Author

Part Autobiographical.

Yesterday’s Child

Metamorphosis

Poacher to Keeper

Children.

Cassie and James’s Magical Whitby Adventure

Cassie and James Mystical Whitby Jet Stone

Cassie and James and the Smugglers of Hummersea Bay.

Cassie and James and the Trolls Curs

Ella and Lara’s secret

Ella and Lara and the Mischievous Pixies.

Isabelle and Santa’s little helper.

Adult Fiction

Migration of souls

Murder by Intolerance

Prologue

The slow, undulating movement of the sea combined with the gentle lapping of the water on the side of the fishing boat, was lulling Ted to sleep; yet he fought against it. He could ill afford to drop his guard and miss the tide.

Ted was poaching salmon in Saltwick bay, a cove just south of Whitby. That was the police and authorities view, however Ted did not agree. To him, salmon in the sea were free creatures, owned by no one. Laws passed hundreds of years ago by the landed gentry to keep them for themselves and deprive the peasants from a source of food, was how he viewed it. So he had no sense of guilt. To him it was a game of catch me if you can, but you will never stop me.

He had left the harbour late afternoon, so as not to draw attention to himself. To leave at dusk would have raised suspicions and no doubt the men on The North Eastern Guardian 3 Fishery protection vessel based in Whitby would have been alerted. Even so they could still be waiting to pounce.

High tide had been at just after midnight, it was a Spring tide, meaning that the tides were at their highest and lowest. He had waited until the tide had begun to ebb, and then laid his net across the entrance of the Bay; as the tide ebbed, the salmon and sea trout would retreat into his net.

He shook himself to clear his mind, adjusting his clothing to keep out the bitter cold, and checked his life jacket.  Ted respected the sea and being on his own, knew that in any accident, he would have no help at hand but himself.

His boat "Catchalot" had been his father's and he had learned his skills from him. The boat was a diesel driven fishing vessel, with a length of ten metres and a width of three metres, fitted with a pot hauler which ran from the main engine. The boat could easily be operated by one man, depending on the type of fishing carried out; netting Salmon fell into that category.

To Ted, this was a nice little earner supplying illicit salmon to various local hotels and restaurants, who weren't too fussy where they came from; as long as they were fresh and cheaper than the market.

This, however, wasn't the only source of income. It was almost eighteen months ago when he had met up in the Railway Inn in Whitby, by a young man who Ted assumed was Greek or from that region by his looks.  He had first met the lad who worked in the kitchen at a local hotel when he delivered some salmon.

He had asked Ted if he would like to meet him in Whitby for a drink. During the evening he had asked Ted if he would like to earn a lot more money. All he had to do was to take his boat to Saltwick bay and wait for a ship to slow down about two miles out to sea. He then had to go alongside and take some merchandise onboard. All he had to do then was to take it in to Saltwick bay and just leave it on the beach. For this, he was to be paid £500 every time he did it.

Ted being suspicious, not of the cargo, but when and if, he would be paid, had demanded payment up front. To his surprise, the young Greek had readily agreed and offered him the money for the first trip there and then. He had quickly pocketed the money and about every three months he had provided this service, each time paid up front. Ted was very pleased with the arrangement and saw this as a steady income to supplement his salmon poaching and unemployment benefits.

He had also decided that there was no reason why he couldn't combine the two. He could shoot his nets, collect the goods, return, haul in the nets and make a profitable night out of it; after all, he would be sitting doing nothing, waiting for the salmon to hit the nets. The ship could only come in so close on a high tide, so it made sense to him.

Then he saw the dark shape out at sea, barely visible on the skyline. A brief light flashed so short that unless you were expecting it, you wouldn't have noticed.  The sky had become darker and the wind was becoming more noticeable. This was a mixed blessing; it would help to keep him hidden from prying eyes and possible keep the Fisheries men away. On the other hand, it meant he didn't have time to waste. The coastline off Saltwick bay could be treacherous in rough conditions.

He slipped the rope that was attached the net end marker and started up the engine, which he had specially muffled to lessen the sound and help in avoiding detection. Steering clear of the nets, he made his way out to sea to make his rendezvous and collect the merchandise.

He came alongside the freighter which was almost still in the water, although he could hear the dull throb of the engines and the slight disturbance in the water showing movement. A rope ladder had been placed on the side, a swell was forming so he had to time the rise and fall. He grabbed hold of the ladder and waited for the package to be lowered.

Only this time to his surprise, men quickly climbed down the ladder and into the boat, he counted seven in total.

Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing, this isn't part of the deal, get off. he shouted. There was no reply.

Well you can sit here all night. I aint moving until you get back onboard that ship.

He was fuming, He would have a word with the Greek, smuggling is one thing, people trafficking is another.

He stopped shouting when he saw the gun pointing into his face and sat down. Then in poor English, one of them said curtly.

Take us to land.

Pointing in the direction of the shore.

Without thinking, he asked about the package but received no response. He was concerned that if he didn't deliver the package, the Greek might ask for his money back.

The response was the clicking of the gun being cocked; Ted shut up.

The journey to the shore gave Ted time to think; this was wrong and if caught, could end him in serious bother. He felt he had to do something, so as he approached the nets, he steered towards them. His idea was that if they got stopped by the nets they might just jump out and swim the short distance to shore and leave him alone. He would be having words with the Greek next time he saw him. If he was to take such risks he wanted to be paid more, contraband was one thing, people another.

The boat made contact with the nets and the boat slowed down. He had chosen the end of the net to avoid damaging them too much. On contact he turned the steering wheel so that the boat swung parallel with the end of the net. Then he cut the engine and the boat stopped.

Looks like we have hit some sea weed on the bottom, you'll have to get out now, He said to the darkened group of men.

There was no reply, but one of them stood up and came to join him in the wheel cabin. Ted was pleased with himself; at least, they would now leave him alone; they didn’t need him anymore.

He was struck violently to the side of the head, he slumped unconscious on to the deck. Without a word, the assailant stripped Ted of his life- jacket and lifted him over the side and dropped him into the water. He then threw the life- jacket into the sea. After a brief discussion, they all slipped over the side of the boat and swam to the shore. Once there, they melted into the night to be collected by several cars and taken to their destinations.

Ted's boat was discovered the next morning by a passing fishing boat, on Black Nab, a rock at the entrance to the bay, laid on its side due to the tide being out. The fishing nets were wrapped around the underside of the bows. After checking the boat and finding no sign of Ted, they radioed ashore and alerted the coastguards. After an extended sea search using boat and helicopter, the search was eventually called off, the boat taken in tow at high tide, and impounded, pending further investigation.

That evening an inflated life jacket was recovered from the sea some miles up the coast. The life jacket being a self