Castled

Castled

by

David L Atkinson

Copyright David L Atkinson 2013

Published by Smashwords

Castling is a move in the game of chess involving a player's king and either of the player's original rooks. It is the only move in chess in which a player moves two pieces in the same move turn, and it is the only move aside from the knight's move where a piece can be said to jump over another.

Chapter 1

So will you then? asked Naomi.

Will I what? smiled Patrick A Steele.

They were in bed in Patrick’s villa in La Forge northern France and had been holidaying there since they had cleared up another mess in the north east of England. He’d wanted to get away to experience some decent wine, cheese and warmer weather.

A fortnight earlier she’d asked him to marry her. They’d been in a relationship, modern parlance for bonking each other, for several months. They were in a business that had driven them to depend on each other so, naturally enough; they’d ended up getting emotionally much closer.

We’ll see! Patrick laughed and dived out of bed just before he got clattered.

He really liked Naomi Kobayashi, he even thought that he might love her, but his early life had been such that relationships were hardly high on his agenda. Everyone who’d supposedly loved him, and that is absolutely everyone, had died or disappeared.

Patrick had been originally from the north east of England although now was variously based in Yorkshire and France. He used to be an accountant but because of a chequered history now employed himself sorting out situations that the authorities, for a variety of reasons and in his mind, were no longer capable of resolving. After carrying out a few of his own redressing tasks, giving ordinary people ‘real’ justice, he was recruited in a roundabout sort of way by a group called the Gurentai. They were a sub group of the Japanese Yakuza, a mafia style organisation that spent centuries making money from the proceeds of crime. The Gurentai were a version of Robin Hood’s Merry Men who used the proceeds purloined by the Yakuza to help the needy in society. They are still in existence as are the Yakuza, although the relationship is not at all close. The recruiting officer was one Takuo Sumisu and he had tested Steele and not found him wanting so he was given tasks, assignments that were along similar lines to the activities he’d already been involved with. They had worked together on some significant plots on a national scale, but with only a small team backed by technical guys and ‘foot soldiers’ who usually remained anonymous. There were often just the three members Takuo, Patrick and the incredibly skilful and quite delectable Miss Naomi Kobayashi who was now his ‘partner’ but obviously wanted more.

One of the benefits Steele had realised was a more than healthy retainer from the Gurentai which was paid into a Swiss bank account run by a company called Micheloud and Cie. He was a millionaire, if you counted his property as well as cash holdings, but a totally unlikely member of that group. He had to be forced to spend the money by his accountant, which when it was pointed out that he would end up giving it all to the tax man if he didn’t, made some kind of sense. Having spent time watching antiques programmes on TV he’d developed a liking for various types of artefact and spent goodly amounts on antiques for his apartment in Mirfield. It kept the accountant off his back somewhat.

The villa in La Forge was quite modern and Patrick had it decorated in a traditional French style except for one room which was also traditional but Japanese. Naomi was also Japanese! In fact he’d been to that fair country a few times and had enjoyed the experience immensely which was reflected in the choice of some of his antiques at home.

Even modern Japanese houses tend to have one traditional Japanese room, called a washitsu, and this was what Patrick had created, with the help of loads of input from Naomi. The room was sparsely furnished, and had tatami mats on the floor. In a traditional Japanese house, this style may be reflected throughout the home, but in the villa it was wooden floors with expensive Turkish rugs except for this one special room. Tatami are thick straw mats covered with stitched, woven rushes. They are smooth and firm enough to walk on, while making a sleeping surface more comfortable than wood or stone. There was even an alcove for a Japanese hanging and a Shinto shrine. The room always felt calm, an oasis that one could escape to in this busy world.

Patrick had also engaged quite a staff since beginning on his crusades against injustice, which was how he thought about what he did. There were the Fordyces, a couple in late middle age who had sort of adopted Patrick. Stacey, the wife, was his housekeeper and her husband, Bill, a handyman with prodigious skills and endless Yorkshire common sense. They had no problem with looking after Patrick and now Naomi; she was with him more than not, whether they were in France or Mirfield, in West Yorkshire. They had their own apartment at La Forge and Patrick let them use it whenever they wanted although they had stayed home on this trip. The accountant had helped him set up retirement funds for both of them and handled their salaries so they were quite well supported. Patrick considered them more than friends, they were the family he’d lost as a teenager and Stacey mothered him. She also approved of Naomi who got on really well with the older lady.

Then there was the third member of his staff who had begun as a grunting, recalcitrant youth but then as the result of an incident, took a bullet for Patrick and ended in a wheelchair. Patrick still couldn’t assuage himself of the feelings of guilt and had invested a deal of time and money in the lad who turned out to be a wizard with computers and anything else electronic. Needless to say Ethan Small, who was also Stacey’s nephew, was well supported and taken care of as was his single mother. It’s true to say that money doesn’t solve all problems but it goes some way to fettling some of them. Ethan’s physiotherapist Jessica Chase was not a member of the Steele team but was fast becoming part of the family. She and Ethan were definitely an item.

Are you going to get that? Patrick yelled from the bathroom.

The phone was ringing and Naomi had dozed off while Patrick was enjoying an early morning soak. Two minutes later the long-legged, raven haired Japanese girl was in the doorway looking beautiful, naked and worried. Patrick didn’t notice the worry on her face and grabbed for her intending to drag her into the hot water.

Patrick, spluttered Naomi. Stop it!

What’s wrong?

It’s the apartment and Bill, she explained. Stacey is heartbroken. There’s been a break in at the apartment, some stuff has been stolen and Bill has collapsed.

Oh my God! exclaimed Patrick leaping out of the sunken tub and grabbing for a towel.

An hour later the French villa was locked up and Naomi and Patrick were in the car heading north. They’d travelled down in the sports car as they were on their own but Patrick had been urged to buy other vehicles. They were currently tearing up the French, arrow straight, country roads in a new Porsche 91; but at home there was also a Range Rover Sport SUV and a more luxurious Mercedes S-Class. Bill Fordyce had adapted all but the Porsche to take Ethan’s wheelchair but more importantly Patrick’s weaponry.

Over the years Patrick had honed his skills with his sniper rifle, hand gun and knife. He’d learned to shoot as a relative youngster at university in that organisation’s gun club, but also had acquired some self-defence skills in the OTC and at bodyguard training school. Steele had also managed a decent enough Maths degree. However, the acquisition of these skills paled into insignificance in the way he’d acquired sensei status in the art of Aikido. It was a condition of the Gurentai that he should be able to protect himself and they’d insisted he attend the Mirfield Martial Arts Group to learn the art. Although he’d taken to it like a duck to water he still struggled against Naomi and the elderly Takuo Sumisu, the man who’d recruited him, was not even in his sights. That man must be close to seventy years old and yet he was incredibly fit and very skilful. He was the real teacher.

They drove in silence for the first hour, Patrick finding solace from worry in concentration, and Naomi was just quiet as she sometimes was and which Patrick was never allowed to penetrate. They were back in England within two and a half hours and thundering up the M1 another hour further on.

I hope Bill is ok, said Naomi. If anything happens to him Stacey will fall apart.

Yes, but he is a good age! agreed Patrick.

They lapsed into silence once more and, apart from the odd comment, that was the way it stayed until they were in the street parked near the apartment. Patrick’s parking spot was full and he thought that he recognised the vehicle. Naomi and Patrick grabbed their bags and walked quickly to the apartment. When they finally got into the lounge they were greeted by the sight of a broken hearted Stacey Fordyce being comforted by Detective Inspector Kathryn Best with Detective Sergeant Gerald Maltby looking on lamely.

Bill had passed away.

Come on Stacey, Naomi said quietly. Let’s make some tea.

It seemed a banal thing to say but it worked for Stacey. She loved Naomi and her shoulder would be more comforting than the long arm of the law! Patrick had guessed that the news about Bill wasn’t good.

Kathryn, he said giving Maltby an acknowledging nod.

Hello Patrick, the Inspector said. The familiarity came from the fact that they’d had an affair some time ago. I’m sorry about Bill.

Patrick walked across to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a large, single malt whisky. Oban was his favourite and, although he saved it for evenings as a rule, this was for Bill. He downed most of the drink in one swallow then carried the glass across to his leather swivel rocker and sat down.

What’s happened? he demanded.

Sergeant Maltby opened his notebook in the manner that must be part of the police training school curriculum.

At some point last night, we think around half past midnight, someone tripped the alarm in your house. Ethan Small, your geek, must have a repeater to your alarm at his home because he rang Bill Fordyce who then dashed across to your apartment, here, but then it all becomes a little sketchy. Mr Fordyce died before he could tell us anything, confirmed the sergeant.

You need to check to see what’s missing Patrick, said Kathryn Best.

Patrick’s mind was a whirl. Bill had been so steady for him and the artefacts meant nothing in comparison. Still he made his way into the dining room and looked round but nothing would sink in to his mind beyond the fact that Bill Fordyce was dead. The Inspector realised that she wasn’t going to get anywhere that day,

We’ll come back tomorrow Patrick

Patrick went into the kitchen after the police had left to find Stacey and Naomi sat at the kitchen table drinking tea. The older woman got up and gave Patrick a squeeze while Naomi poured him a cup. They sat for a long time talking, crying and drinking, until it was late. Naomi convinced Stacey to stay at the apartment in the spare room that evening.

The following day was dire. It began with Patrick going down to the Annexe where he kept his vehicles, a gym with dojo, and office space where Ethan Small worked. The place had been adjusted to take his wheelchair and the computer suite was tailor made for him. The whole complex looked exactly as it had before and that was an industrial factory unit, one of many in an estate about a quarter of a mile from the apartment. The Gurentai had funded the whole unit, at least in Patrick’s head they had, which allowed him to compartmentalise the fact that he killed people for them on occasions.

Morning Ethan, Patrick said sombrely.

Hi boss, replied the younger man not taking his eyes from the computer screen.

Patrick strolled from the computer office and stood staring at the facilities he’d used so often and that were maintained by Bill. He should work out and on a ‘normal’ day he would but today wasn’t normal. Far from it! Then he was struck by an idea.

Ethan, he began.

Yes boss?

Can you check out the cameras in the apartment please?

I’m on it Patrick, Ethan replied.

You don’t have to stay all day Ethan, Patrick offered.

It’s ok. I’ve arranged for Jess to come for me after lunch, Ethan informed his boss.

Good because I have to go and check the inventory and inform the police of what’s missing. I won’t be back today.

With that Patrick left and returned to the apartment. For insurance purposes he’d taken photographs of all the important pieces he’d collected over the years so checking what was missing wasn’t going to take too long.

His taste in antiques was eclectic but the majority of pieces were either Japanese, Victorian wood or silver. The items were housed almost exclusively in the dining room which was furnished in a rather heavy Victorian style, or so Naomi thought although she never shared that with Patrick. He had a photographic inventory set up on his tablet and so it was fairly easy for him to ascertain the pieces missing and establish an approximate value.

Patrick went straight to the cabinet that housed some fine, small pieces and noticed immediately that a Japanese Edo Period silver and guilt hair ornament was missing. It was valued at over £8000 for insurance purposes. There was also a nineteenth century chess set in ivory worth at least £4800 which had been in one of the ‘hidden’ draws in the large Victorian sideboard. Apart from a number of small, much lower value ivory pieces the only other major item that had gone was a Charles II silver spoon valued at £1395 and a 1903 Gem set Cup and Cover costing just under £9000. The total value was just under £30 000 but what annoyed Patrick was that items such as the arts and crafts silver cup were irreplaceable.

The door opened and Naomi Kobayashi strolled in, well she never seemed to do anything quickly, which was an illusion particularly when fighting, wearing a red kimono decorated with golden dragons. It was her robe that she used for relaxing in but it just seemed to emphasise her height and slender figure. The colours matched the jet black shining hair for which Patrick had bought the antique hair decoration that had been taken. He knew she would be upset.

Has it gone Patrick? was her opening gambit, she never shortened his name.

She showed little reaction, only a slight tightening of the lips, but Patrick knew that he wouldn’t like to be in the perpetrator’s shoes if she got her hands on them. There would be no mercy just swift and violent justice.

At that point the buzzer announcing the presence of someone at the street door sounded. Stacey shouted from the kitchen that she would get it as it was the police.

Good morning Patrick, Kathryn Best said walking into the dining room followed by her sidekick, Maltby.

After the initial greetings had been exchanged Patrick gave DI Best a printout of the missing items.

A considerable haul, said the senior officer.

Patrick nodded his agreement but his forehead was wearing a deeply, furrowed frown.

Spill it Paddy! instructed Best.

Have you noticed anything officers? he sounded very formal.

Everything they took was valuable, said Maltby.

Patrick sighed and rose from the highly polished dining chair that must have been almost 200 years old.

Come on Gerald, Patrick patronised the police sergeant. Have they anything in common?

They’re all small, answered Kathryn Best. The ‘perps’ could have escaped carrying nothing bigger than a small rucksack or holdall.

Exactly, confirmed Patrick. But also they really knew a great deal about antiques.

Yes that would seem a reasonable assumption but how can you be so certain? asked Best.

Patrick picked up his tablet and contacted Ethan in the Annexe and asked him to stream the feed from the security camera in the dining room. The burglary had taken place during darkness and so there was no way they would be able to identify the thief from the grainy pictures. However, it was possible to follow the actions of the two people in the room.

Now watch this Kathryn, Patrick instructed.

The two officers, Naomi and Patrick were leant over the small 10.1 inch screen of the tablet. The person who selected the items, because that was what he or she was doing, choosing carefully, opened and closed display cabinets and drawers with great care. The point at which the chess set was taken was the clincher in that they knew what they were doing. Moving across to the large sideboard the thief opened the top draw of the lower half of the unit, reached inside and did something, which caused a panel in the top left hand pillar, which till then had looked solid, to swing open. He or she then reached inside and slid out the wooden case that housed the chess set. The openings were then returned to their original positions.

Very clever, commented Gerald Maltby.

See if you can open that panel Gerald, suggested Patrick.

The sergeant tried to repeat the actions he’d just observed on the tablet screen but, as Patrick expected, failed to open the secret cupboard. He didn’t find the catch inside the top drawer irrespective of how hard he poked about.

Very clever indeed, confirmed the sergeant to the room.

The police left with their list of stolen items but had been unable to give Patrick any kind of assurance that the thieves would be caught and his possessions recovered. Realistically, Patrick really didn’t expect to have much hope of recovery by the police. So he began thinking about what could be done from his own point of view.

Naomi Kobayashi went into the kitchen with Stacey because there was a funeral to plan and she wanted to give the bereaved woman as much support as she possibly could. Patrick set off to the Annexe as he wanted to set things in motion to discover the perpetrators of this crime.

Chapter