The reporter looked as if he was going to say more, but Savage didn’t give him a chance.
“I think we need to stop speculating and let the police do their job and investigate it properly. I’ve nothing further to add at this point.” Savage walked quickly away from the reporter, before getting into a waiting car and being driven off.
The reporter turned back to address the world, but the anchor at the television studio quickly cut him off. “Thank you, Ben, now in other news, a grandmother from Durham has−”
Billy turned the television off and took the cup of coffee from Callie.
“Have you heard anything about the boat being damaged?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “That’s news to me.”
They both thought about it for a little while.
“I wonder how sure they are that it was deliberate damage and not just from being thrown against rocks and that.”
“If there were definite knife cuts to the rubber, that would do it.”
“Yes,” Callie said. “It would. I’ll talk to Mike next week, see if I can find out more.”
“It’s a horrific thought, isn’t it? I mean, if the boat was cut so that they wouldn’t reach land safely? That’s cold-blooded murder.”
Callie had to agree.
* * *
As she lay in bed in the early hours of the morning, mind working overtime, Billy snoring lightly by her side, she made a decision. If anyone had managed to get someone to sabotage the boat, it was likely to be someone from the FNM, and the fact that they were holding a celebratory gathering made even more sense. She didn’t think they were likely to admit it openly at the meeting, but someone might say something. She decided that she was going to go to the FNM gathering. Ideally, she’d like to take someone with her, but she certainly couldn’t take Billy, he’d become an instant target, and she wasn’t sure that Kate would approve. In fact, she knew that Kate would try and talk her out of it if she told her friend about her plans. Knowing that it would be hard to have brunch with Kate and keep it from her, Callie decided to resort to a little white lie and first thing, once Billie had hurried out to his football game, with a wave and a kiss and an “I’ll call later”, Callie sent her friend a text, crying off their regular brunch and suggesting that they meet Sunday instead. Kate replied that she was happy with that as she would have loads to tell Callie about her Saturday night date. Callie smiled to herself, her friend wouldn’t be free to go out with her, even if she had asked. Much better to go alone, Callie thought. She would have a lot to tell Kate on Sunday as well, although she didn’t imagine an FNM meeting was likely to lead to any romance.
Chapter 8
Looking through her wardrobe, Callie wondered exactly what one wore to an FNM meeting. Ringing her mother for advice wasn’t exactly on the cards. She imagined the conversation:
“Hey Mum, what’s the dress code for a fascist rally?”
“Definitely a dark colour, darling, a black shirt perhaps?”
No, ringing her mother was not a good idea. She decided on jeans, a plain white shirt and a blue jacket. Nothing flash. Nothing designer. She really didn’t want to stand out in this crowd.
Even though the sun would be going down during the meeting, she decided on a pair of large sunglasses. She didn’t want to be recognised by any of her patients, if they were there, or police, undercover or uniformed. And there was also the anxiety of being photographed and appearing in the morning papers. That would be very difficult to explain to her Asian boyfriend, no matter how tolerant he was.
There was also the anxiety over whether or not Lisa Furnow would be there. The fact that she dropped the flyer and was so flustered suggested she might be, but it could just have been something she picked up accidentally and was nothing to do with her.
Callie had argued with herself over whether or not she could befriend the crime scene photographer to try and find out her leanings, but it was well known that Callie was going out with Billy, so Lisa was never going to believe she was a member of the FNM and would be unlikely to confide in her if she was.
Callie wondered again about body number nine. Was he a member of FNM? Was it him who had sabotaged the boat? If so, it had back-fired spectacularly. She would have liked to ask Lisa if she recognised him, but the fact that the photographer hadn’t come forward and identified the body, suggested not. That, or she wasn’t prepared to admit to knowing him.
Callie’s plan was to stay away from the limelight and do her best to go unnoticed, whilst taking note of the people and what they said. She hoped there would be talk that might link the group to the damaged boat. Something solid she could take to Miller. She would dearly love to see them prosecuted for murder, because if the immigrants drowned because of poor planning that would be manslaughter, but if the boat had been deliberately damaged with the intent that it would not be able to safely reach shore, that was unquestionably murder.
* * *
As she looked around her at the crowd that was rapidly gathering at the outdoor exhibition area on the seafront, known as The Stade, Callie realised she was still more smartly dressed than most of the other attendees. She smiled to herself, there was no time to change her clothes now, so she would have to do as she was.
She found herself a quiet spot between the gallery and the net sheds.
