Easier Dead Than Done by Russell Cooper

Author:Russell Cooper [Cooper, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Balloon Press
Published: 2024-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Charlie steers the motorboat away from the floating pontoon and heads towards the nearest group of anglers while Cedric and Ambrose, who sit on the rear bench, sing salty sea shanties and laugh at their crude language.

Colin looks peaky in his green thigh-high waders and grips the sides of the boat so tightly his knuckles turn white.

‘How are you doing there, Seadog,’ Charlie asks him.

‘Can you stop the boat rolling?’ Colin barks.

Cedric leans forward and says, ‘We’re pitching, dear boy, not rolling. When the sides go up and down, that’s rolling. When the front dips and the back lifts, that’s pitching. It’s best if we show you.’

Cedric and Ambrose stand, holding onto either side of the boat and begin demonstrating the difference between rolling and pitching.

Cedric says, ‘There’s also yawing, surging, swaying, and heaving. Would you like us to show you those as well?’

Colin shouts to Charlie, ‘Make them stop before I drown them.’

Charlie glares at Cedric and Ambrose until they sit down. She cruises slowly to the first motorboat, where four fishermen hunker under a green cover, drinking cans of Guinness. ‘It’s not Buchanan,’ whispers Charlie and steers towards the next boat, which is occupied by a single person wearing a floppy black hat.

‘Is that her?’ asks Ambrose.

‘I don’t know,’ says Charlie. ‘All anglers look the same.’ She cuts the engine, and their motorboat eases alongside the hunched person with two rods.

‘Caught much?’ Cedric asks, puffing on his dry pipe.

The hooded person turns, ‘Not much.’

‘That’s because you’re on the wrong side of the lake,’ Cedric says, pointing his pipe to the far side of the lake. ‘You need warmer water; that’s where the fish feed. You’ll catch nothing here.’ The man grunts and turns away from the unwanted advice.

Charlie scowls at Cedric and whispers, ‘I’m not sure fishermen like to be put straight by a man in a lab coat wearing a Panama hat, puffing an unlit pipe.’ She revs the little engine, which putt-putts towards the next motorboat.

Colin’s face turns from a ghostly white to lime green, and his cheeks shine with a clammy, fearful sweat. He groans as the small launch heaves up and down over the ripples, and bobs uncomfortably on the tree-lined lake.

‘What a beautiful day,’ says Ambrose. ‘Colin, you should bait up your hook and cast your line. It will take your mind off feeling so awful.’

Colin dips his meaty fingers into the bait pot and snags a wriggly maggot on the hook. He casts his line into the dark water.

‘Lovely,’ says Ambrose. ‘Feeling better?’

Colin shrugs that he’s feeling the same. Charlie sidles alongside the boat in the middle of the lake.

‘It’s Buchanan,’ Charlie says. ‘Let me do the talking.’

‘What does that mean?’ snaps Cedric.

‘We’ll get only one shot to solicit her help, and it won’t help if you start explaining what she’s doing wrong while pointing those idiotic pipes of yours.’

‘I think Charlie may be suffering from IED?’ says Cedric.

‘It’s a classic case,’ adds Ambrose.

‘What’s IED?’ asks Colin, tugging gently on his fishing rod.

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