Crash Course Derek Fee (interesting books to read txt) 📖

a pair of blue jeans. “I would never have believed that I would be standing looking out at the Bay of Naples from the balcony of a five-star hotel.”

“Glad you’re having such a good time,” Kane said without taking his eyes off the bay. Doc had been like a second skin over the past three weeks. He hadn’t figured out why his new partner was sticking so close to him but he reckoned that the instructions had come from Davenport. Doc’s attempts to get close made him uneasy. There were times when he’d felt that Doc was about to pose an awkward question only to see the words die on his lips.

The Bay of Naples scenery which had been so often written about was beautiful but Kane had come to Sorrento to do a job and not as a tourist. His eyes took in the dark hump of Mount Vesuvius rearing over the great bay and then ran along the minor hills which stretched away into the distant gloom. Villas and apartment buildings dotted the hillsides before congregating on Sorrento directly beneath his feet. Paint and plaster peeled from the sides of the buildings on either side of the large hotel. The villas were like yellow boils on a verdant scene. This was the way the world would end. An ugly building would be built on every square inch that represented beauty.

“You’ve accomplished miracles with the boat,” Doc said without looking up.

“Six weeks in and we haven’t progressed one step,” Kane replied. “There are days when I wish I’d let this chalice pass. It’s common knowledge that if you don’t solve a murder in the first twenty-four hours, the chances of finding the culprit diminish exponentially. A one-year-old murder might as well have happened in pre-historic times. The culprits might not even be on the racing circuit this year. Hell, they might not even be alive. It’s worse than looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“I’d heard that you were focused but this is ridiculous. It’s a balmy evening on the balcony of a fantastic hotel overlooking what’s supposed to be one of the most beautiful sights in the Med. Tonight we’ll have one hell of a party and tomorrow you get to drive a powerboat in the first race of the European Powerboat Championship. And what are you brooding about? Whether we’ll be successful on some half-baked operation. Most people who’ve looked death in the face tend to throw themselves at life. What’s your problem?”

The question was so open ended that Kane had the distinct feeling there was something more behind it than the simple banter of mates.

“Maybe you’re my problem.” He turned and stared into Doc’s face. “This mother-hen act doesn’t sit well with me. If I needed someone to look out for me, I would have found a partner years ago.” He turned around and faced the roomful of people behind them. “Now get off my case. If I want to brood, I’ll brood. I’m here for the operation. When it’s finished, I’m gone.”

“Mark, my boy, enjoying the view I see.” Tom stood resplendent in a white dinner jacket and red cummerbund.

“Hello.” Kane gave his new uncle an appraising look. “You’re taking the part of the powerboat team owner to heart.”

“This is bloody exciting, isn’t it?” Tom turned around and looked back at the facade of the hotel where a giant white banner stretching across the front proclaimed ‘BENVENUTI AL STARS DEL OFFSHORE’. “You’re right of course, it’s more fun than sitting behind a desk in Leeds. I’m having a ball playing at being the team sponsor, it’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever been involved with. Far more glamorous than building up my own business. And of course, far more costly. Still, what else was there to do with the money?”

“Exciting I don’t know about. But it certainly is different,” Kane said.

The crowds on the balcony outside the hotel’s San Antonio Restaurant were growing and waiters pushed their way through the throng dispensing drinks and canapés. Kane watched the diamond-bedecked ladies and Armani-suited men cast glances around trying to locate those richer and more famous. The Italian Offshore Championship simply provided another occasion for the glitterati to parade themselves. The same people would be found adorning the Palio di Siena or the Fiesta de San Fermin in Pamplona. They had assembled in Sorrento to watch a scattering of millionaires and assorted boating professionals race powerful boats. If they were lucky, they would see somebody die. If they weren’t, then tant pis. Either way, the first day of the running of the bulls in Pamplona was only a few weeks away and it could always be counted on for the sight of a little red blood.

“Take it from me,” Tom said, adjusting his cummerbund over his expansive stomach, “This is a far cry from owning the local football team.”

Kane saw Morweena approaching through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting people as she passed. It was obvious that his “throttleman” was a popular attraction on the circuit.

“I must say that I approve of your taste in clothes.” Morweena emerged from the throng and looked appraisingly at Kane. “Very macho but at the same time very chic. The ladies better watch themselves this evening.”

“Does that mean that I pass muster with your friends in the circus?” Kane said. Morweena was dressed in a white silk creation which set off perfectly the deep brown colour of her skin. It was one of those occasions when somebody should have said ‘My God you look beautiful’ but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It would have sounded corny coming from his lips. He had been trying to play down the sexual chemistry between them but there had been times over the past few weeks when he would have given a month’s pay to reach out and touch her. The mantra ‘she’s off limits’ kept playing in his mind but there was only so much of an ‘off limits’ Morweena that any