[Background music at the end. This story will be posted in full after the Challenge for those of us that like to read everything in one complete telling,]
HALESTORM – Thursday Morning
Holyhead hides hindrances I need to fathom. Reasons for the GEE package to go via Pembroke Dock. The harbourmaster confirmed ships from Scandinavia do dock at Holyhead, although more often in Liverpool. Still, a better port for North Wales.
I’m being hoodwinked. Taken in by a bloody herring. My tattoos tingle and my finger taps my bracer.
N for North Wales. B for Boats. I for Indecision. NIB or BIN.
My coffee is empty, so I leave the café. Walk along the harbour seeking inspiration. Seagulls screech and lorries honk. Hail has driven shoppers inside as missiles hammer wet streets.
Officially, I’m not here – not to the penny pinchers. Damn their interference. They are my biggest hurdle. But it’s my day-off, when I get to relax at home – or power though bends with Kama. But she is on-duty with Wiley – in Holyhead hearing out suspects in the fraud investigation.
Cadging a lift was easy. A chance to be with Kama – for the drive.
So near to the hospital in Bangor, yet miles away. Interviewing Vic Vaughn is still hindered by money counters. Austerity sucks. Ffycin nhw.
The hail lets up. A brief reminder of the weekend’s storm. Where was the Swedish freighter during the storm? Further north. Acting normally, even though an online search reveals the freight line and GEE have the same parent company. Harmless? Honest?
The hunch – the stab of tattoos screams guilty. Why?
Visualize the coastline. Places to avoid. Rocks. Wreckers in another century. Treacherous areas in the storm. The Llyn has a few – most notably Hell’s Mouth, or Porth Neigwl.
Valuable cargoes looted. Hijacked.
Smugglers. Defrauding customs.
The drab office block where I meet Kama and Wiley overlooks the thrashing sea.
“We’re done here, cariad.” Kama kisses me openly. “Wiley has a digression planned – unofficial.”
He directs us to the squad car in the building’s carpark.
“A lead at the Bangor hospital – your lead.” He grins at me. “Tenuously connected to ours But Bangor is on our way home.”
My tattoos tingle as warmth builds in waves.
R for Rocks and Reasons. E for Evidence and Evasion. D for Decisive and Divers.
Plus, I for Intent and Investigation. B for Boats and Buildings. N for North Wales.
INBRED. But in which way? Inherent or from inbreeding?
Wiley tunes the squad car radio to a local station playing my music.
Kama beams. “Halestorm. Lzzy rocks.”
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And now for something completely different.
“Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.” William Congreve – The Mourning Bride