Last Ferry To Gulf Harbour: Ann Grieves Mysteries

By Patricia Snelling

Amber Raymond locks the door of the city medical clinic and sets off for a late-night shopping spree. Hurrying to catch the last ferry home to Gulf Harbour, she is accosted by a stranger in a dark and empty street. This ignites a full-blown investigation into organised corporate crime at her husband Kyle's factory that exposes its workers to a life-threatening product and dumps toxic waste.

 When Private Investigator Ann Grieves takes on the case, she expects it to be a walk in the park, but to her later dismay, it turns out to be a full-blown attempted murder enquiry.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patricia Snelling
• Release date: Jan 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201076528

Book preview

Martin Joyce – Cover Designer

Judith Little – Editing Support

Other Books by Author:

Murder In The Band Room (Ann Grieves Mysteries)

Missing On Lion Rock

When Hope Went South

Jessie’s High Country Heart

Mack The Good Shepherd

Missing On Kawau

Unshakable (Peacehaven Series)

Broken Web (Peacehaven Series)

Rescue Net

Louis’s Garden Party (Children’s book)

Chapter One

Amber Raymond set the alarm and locked the door of the medical clinic. This was her last shift for the week on a Friday evening, which conveniently was also a late shopping night in the city.

As she walked towards the lift, the security officer passed her in the corridor. 

‘Goodnight, Ma’am—you’re late tonight. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to accompany you to the ground floor and see you out?’

‘No, thanks. I’ll take the back door through the basement—it’s quicker to get to the Mall. I’m off to do a bit of shopping before I catch the ferry to Gulf Harbour.’

‘Well, I’ll give you thirty minutes before I lock up down there.’

‘That’ll be fine—see you next week.’

She made her way to the new state-of-the-art downtown Mall, and once inside, she was relieved to be in a well—lit area packed with people. She rang her husband Kyle, to say not to keep a meal for her and asked him to meet her off the last ferry to Gulf Harbour.

It wasn’t often she went late-night shopping, so this was only her second visit to the new Mall.

She forgot how quickly time passes when browsing, and because she was busily searching for a suitable wedding present for her friend, she lost track of it.

Having found the perfect gift idea—a Cole and Mason Salt and Pepper Mill set—the Japanese food outlet caught her eye. She ordered a small tray of salmon Sushi and sat down, relieved to get off her feet. Glancing at her wristwatch, she realised she was running late to catch the ferry and hastily finished eating.

Heading to the harbour, to save time, she made a detour through Bridge Lane. This was a quiet street where most of the shops had already closed for the night.

Amber flinched as shadows cast by dim streetlights played havoc with her imagination and shuddered as she sped up at the sound of scuffling from behind. I shouldn’t have come down this lonely street.

Without warning, a male voice echoed from nowhere as a man jumped out, blocking her path. She tried to move to the side, but he braced himself in front of her. His face was barely visible, concealed by a dark goatee beard, and a black hoodie which covered his head.

His eyes blazed as his sharp words cut through the street’s silence with freezing contempt. ‘Stay still, woman—I won’t hurt you if you cooperate! I just want to give you a message for that idiot husband of yours.’

Amber’s eyes scanned the street for passers-by, but the lane was empty. Her eyes darted to her watch. ‘Can you hurry—I’m going to miss the last ferry,’ she snapped.

‘Hmm—Gulf Harbour. A quiet little haven, I believe. Well, this is a warning for Kyle if he has any sense. You’d better convince him to back off and stay out of things that are none of his business. He’ll understand what I mean. If he doesn’t, I know where you live, and it’ll no longer be a safe neighbourhood.’

He grasped her jaw, squeezing it tight. ‘Did you get what I said?’ A pair of dark eyes pierced hers.

Amber’s hand slid inside her jacket pocket and found her phone. As the ruffian released her face, words escaped from her tight throat. ‘Yes, I get it—you’re threatening us.’

Stepping backwards, Amber flashed her eyes along the street again to see if there was a witness, but there was no one in sight. A sick feeling from within engulfed her as she pulled out her phone, holding it ready.

The man’s lip drew back in a snarl. ‘You can damn well say I am­­­­­­­­­­. Next time it won’t just be a threat—you mark my words.’

The veins in her neck began pulsating. ‘I’m calling the police!’

‘No, you won’t!’ He lurched forward, swiping her arm with his gloved hand. The phone ricocheted across the pavement and smashed into the gutter.

Pushing her aside, he vanished into the black abyss of the night as swiftly as a tornado.

Amber crouched down to salvage the pieces of the wrecked phone from the gutter before speeding off as fast as her trembling legs could move.

When she turned the corner, a well-lit area lined with late-night eateries appeared.

Chapter Two

Bolting into the first café she passed, Amber gasped for breath while her body shook uncontrollably.

A table hidden in the corner of the café got her attention where she was able to sit discreetly. She held her head in her hands, stemming the flow of tears—the tension and relief that threatened to explode from her head.

A good-looking, charming waiter walked over to her table.

‘Are you alright, Miss—can I get you something?’

She detected an Italian accent. ‘Just a hot chocolate, thanks—nothing to eat. Are you about to close?’

‘No, not on a Friday—we’re open until after midnight when it’s busy. It gets hectic here after nine, as we’re a licenced restaurant.’

The waiter sauntered off and spoke to a young waitress who set about making her a hot drink.

Amber glanced at her watch again as the girl brought the beverage to the table. ‘Please, can you help me? I need to use a phone to contact my husband to collect me from town. I missed the last ferry to Gulf Harbour.’

The girl arched an eyebrow as though it was an odd question to ask and shook her head. ‘Sorry, but my phone doesn’t have any credit. I could ask one of the others if you like.’

Amber offloaded a vivid description of what she had just experienced with the hooded stranger, avoiding going into the finer details. She showed the girl the pieces of the phone in her cupped hand.

‘Wow, that’s awful. Would you like us to call the police?’

‘No! Please don’t—I just want to go home. My husband is expecting me off the ferry, and I need to warn him that I’m still stuck in town.’

‘Just wait here—I’ll see what I can do. I haven’t been here long—I’m still in training.’

The girl scuttled off to the counter as more patrons arrived and were attended to by the Italian waiter. The cafe began to get busy, and Amber didn’t want to make a scene. She pulled herself together and wiped away her tears.

The waitress stood behind the counter, chatting with a man who shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands in the air. Amber wondered why he refused to help, as she didn’t look dodgy, but by the disapproving glance he flashed her, it didn’t look hopeful.

The girl returned. ‘Look—I’m so sorry, but the boss isn’t happy about lending anyone his phone. He doesn’t want any trouble as he has been burned in this situation before.’

Amber bristled. ‘What do you mean burned? I just want to ring my husband, who’ll be worried sick.’ She pulled out a small notepad and jotted down a number.

‘Here—give this to one of your other colleagues and ask them to phone Kyle to say I missed the last ferry to Gulf Harbour and could he pick me up at this café. It’s pretty simple really,’ she said curtly, trying hard to exercise patience.

The girl’s expression softened. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ reluctantly taking the piece of paper to her colleagues behind the bar.

The two barmen sniggered amongst themselves while the girl stalked off back to Amber’s table again. Her cheeks were red.

‘I’m sorry—no one has offered to help. They said they’re too busy, and the call might be a hoax. They don’t want to be out of pocket, and I also think they just don’t want to get involved after what you told me,’ the girl stammered.

Amber didn’t know whether to scream with exasperation or burst into tears again.

‘This is jolly ridiculous! What kind of customer service do you call this? I was going to pay them ten dollars for their trouble, but I don’t want to stay here a moment longer. Here—five dollars for my hot chocolate!’ She thrust the cash on the table and rushed out the door onto the street.

What will she do now, stuck in the city without a phone and no means of contacting her husband so late at night?

Forcing back tears of frustration stinging her eyes, she headed over to the BP petrol station across the road, hoping for better customer service. To her delight, her story fell on compassionate ears. She handed the attendant the note paper with Kyle’s phone number.

‘Sure, Ma’am—I’ll call him for you.’  The kind-faced Sikh attendant picked up the phone off the counter. He let it ring for some time but didn’t leave a message—instead, he handed it back to Amber.

‘Here, Ma’am—you talk. Sorry—I didn’t know what to say on the voicemail.’

Agitated, she took the phone and made the call, leaving a message saying she would wait for him at the Hungry Horse café in the same block as the BP station. The service attendant had told her it stayed open until after midnight.

Amber knew that Kyle would eventually get her message, but she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t picking up his phone. He was driving, and his car has no hands-free phone—that must be it.

She took another look at the number she’d written on the notepaper. Was it correct? Kyle had only acquired his new phone a month ago, and she couldn’t be sure since her mind was in such a whirl.

Grateful for the help the attendant gave her, she handed him a ten-dollar note, smiled and walked out.

Now she was able to relax knowing her message had got through to Kyle’s phone, Amber became aware that despite the food she’d eaten in the Mall earlier, her stomach felt empty. Hunger pangs were responding to the enticing aromas as she entered the Hungry Horse café.  Realising that it would be a reasonably long wait, she waved her hand at the waiter.

Chapter Three

Kyle Raymond yanked at the zip of his anorak, shielding himself from the cold onshore wind. He relaxed when the ferry appeared in the distance from behind the tiny island called Frenchman’s Cap. It was right on time.

He headed down the walkway to the seating area on the pier to wait out of the wind. The last ferry from the city at this time usually didn’t have many passengers, so he wouldn’t have to wait too long for his wife to disembark.

When the vessel arrived at the pier, Kyle stood up, craning his neck watchfully as each passenger came down the gangplank onto the dock—all except his Amber. When the last passenger got off, his heart sank. What happened to her? She had to be on that boat, as she had no other way of getting home. He dove into his pocket for his phone—only it wasn’t there. He’d left it at home on the dining table in his haste to get out the door.

He stamped his foot. ‘Darn! Just when I need it most.’

He spoke to the seaman untying the rope on the boat, to check that there was no chance Amber had been left behind. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep?

‘No, mate. We always check the vessel before we make a return trip. Sorry—I hope your wife turns up soon.’

Kyle went back to his car and rushed off home to fetch his phone. When he retrieved it, there was a voice message from Amber explaining how she had missed the ferry, giving him instructions about where to collect her in the city. She told him she was ringing on a stranger’s phone.

Kyle had trouble keeping the speed limit as he hurtled down the northern motorway in the direction of the city. The thought of someone harming his wife as a result of his making waves at his workplace agitated him, and he began hyperventilating.

He tried to calm his breathing—something he had learnt to do in situations like this when he would usually pull over to the side of the road and breathe into a paper bag. This time he gradually managed to gain control over it and continued driving through the moderate evening traffic as quickly as he could.

‘Keep her safe, Lord,’ he muttered between breaths.

Kyle had been a whistle-blower all his life and hated injustice—always making a stand despite hefty opposition. This time he had gone too far and got his boss’s back up. As an engineer, he didn’t work alongside the industrial chemists but was aware of what had been going on. Close colleagues working in Filling Plant Two were going off sick with unusual lung disorders and fatigue. It started happening after the factory began manufacturing a new product—a high-priced decorative plaster. It was a superior material—easy to apply and durable, and it glowed with some kind of mineral that sparkled.

Kyle had tried to obtain details of the ingredients, but it was treated as highly secret, which made him suspicious. The only detail the managers would tell the employees when questioned about the new product was it’s a type of quartz.

He was determined to find out whether the increasing job absences were a direct result of being exposed to a toxic component of this product they exported in bulk. Still, his superiors didn’t like him asking questions.

The processed, white plaster powder was bagged and shipped to other countries without clear labelling as to the exact contents.

Kyle had obviously taken his curiosity too far, treading on toes, but the managers didn’t want to lose his exceptional engineering expertise.

Could the man who had accosted his wife have anything to do with all this? He knew that an anonymous syndicate owned the factory, and perhaps one of them was out to get him. He would soon find out.

How could he get his friend, Joe, one of the industrial chemists, on the side to ask him to reveal the ingredients of the decorative product discreetly? He knew Joe wouldn’t want to take any risks while earning a hefty salary as a highly valued industrial chemist. But if Kyle could find sufficient evidence to convince him that ordinary lives were at stake, indeed, he would support him in making a stand.

As Kyle headed over the harbour bridge, the dazzling coloured lights of the city jarred him back to the present. Amber! She’d been hanging around in the city for hours. How did she manage to miss the last ferry?

His thoughts wandered to his wife’s place of work—the medical clinic. Perhaps she could shed more light on the unusual symptoms his colleagues had manifested. Their family doctors had passed their symptoms off as a flu-like virus, but he and Amber weren’t convinced.

Instead of seeing her face light up when he walked through the door of the Hungry Horse, Amber burst into tears. She pulled out a bunch of tissues and wiped her salty cheeks, but the deep hollows under her eyes and puckered forehead said it all.

Chapter Four

Ann Grieves was looking forward to a long break after her last two cases, which both turned out to be much more intense than she had expected. She loved her cottage by the sea in Cockle Cove, having moved back to Auckland after a long stint serving as a Detective Inspector in Southland. Although she sometimes missed the lakes and mountains, her home in a peaceful cove made up for it.

Scout, her Beagle canine companion, lay at her feet, waiting in the hope of a walk along the promenade.

‘Look here, my boy. You may no longer be the best drug-sniffing dog in the police force, but I have plenty of work for you to do yet—just wait and see.’

Scout glanced at her, shaking his head.

‘I know you must miss the excitement of the chase at the airport, but you were gifted to me for a purpose, and we have a destiny together.’

The dog gave her another quizzical look, interrupted by her phone ringing. She pulled it from her pocket. ‘Just when I thought we were