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easy as it appeared. Adrenaline pumped around his body as he fought to control the bucking boat. He took a deep breath and began to move inside himself. Controlling his breathing, he forced his arms to relax and his concentration on controlling the boat became total. Now there was only him and the boat. His mind became one with this new environment. The boat reached the western edge of the bay and he pulled hard left on the wheel to bring it back around. The boat began to lurch over and he realised just in time that his turn was too sharp. Reacting to the danger, he pulled the wheel back quickly and sighed with relief as the boat began to right itself. Instinctively he let his right hand go out and pull the throttle back.

“Not quite as simple as you thought, eh, bucko!” David said moving to Kane’s shoulder. “Gave yourself a bit of a shock.”

Kane pulled the throttle back further and turned to face the boatyard owner. “I thought I did bloody well, considering it’s my first time out.” The effects of the adrenaline were fading and Kane realised that he was drenched to the skin.

“Don’t ever invite me for a boat ride again.” Bell’s ruddy complexion had disappeared and he was ghostly white. “If you two want to have a pissing contest, leave me out.”

“Sorry,” David said. “I didn’t imagine that your nephew had that much of the devil in him.”

“That was a rush.” Kane eased the boat back towards the slipway.

“Well, gentlemen.” David braced himself against the corner of the cockpit. “I would guess that we were probably travelling at somewhere between thirty-five and forty knots when the throttle was fully open. You may have found it exhilarating but it was positively dawdling against what Kernow will be capable of. Think about it, Kane. When the throttle on the Kernow is fully open you’ll be moving at an average of more than four times the speed you were doing just now. Also, you’ll be travelling at that speed for the duration of an offshore race. In other words, for two hours or more. During that period, you will be spending more time in the air than travelling through the water. And every time you do return to earth there’s an impact which will shake your body to its core. Can you imagine the buffeting your body will take? Your arms will ache and your knees will be locked. And those are only the physical considerations. Offshore racing also requires tremendous powers of concentration. In my opinion, there is no way you can be prepared in time for the first race of the season.” He turned to face Bell. “Perhaps we could use him as our reserve driver?”

“Damn it all, David, don’t you ever give up?” Bell said. He slapped Kane on the shoulder. “I know nothing about powerboat racing. But I’ve spent all my life examining what makes folk tick. I might be wrong but I think you’re seriously underestimating who you’re dealing with. The way my nephew performed out there makes me think that maybe you can turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse. For the very last time, while this team is being sponsored by me, Mark will be number one driver and that’s final.”

David scowled.

Kane’s adrenaline high was subsiding and he was beginning to feel uncomfortable in his sodden clothes. However, he took enormous pleasure from David’s failure to unsettle either him or his mentor. If Bell was paying the bills, then he was also calling the shots. He could take anything they could throw at him. This was simply a gig like every other gig he’d been on since he’d joined Scotland Yard and SO10. When this was over, Davenport would have another job for him – until he either got too old or he cracked. There were plenty of undercover cops who spent their last days basket-weaving. It went with the territory. He eased the speedboat back into its slot close to the edge of the slipway and cut the engine.

David clambered agilely over the side and tied up the boat while Kane helped Bell to climb over the side and then slipped into the cold water himself. When he had finished tying up the boat, the two older men were already making their way back towards the offices. He fell into step behind them like some poor relation at a family wedding.

“Mark, my boy. Been in for a swim?”

The voice awakened Kane from his reverie.

‘Doc’ Watson, a large smile on his lined face, stood inside the main door of the boatyard, a dirty grey kitbag at his feet.

Kane returned his smile and looked down at his sodden clothes. “I think your boss was trying to baptise me. Either that or it’s an initiation rite.”

Watson slapped him on the shoulder. “The boss makes no secret of the fact that he doesn’t want you driving his boat. The next few weeks won’t be a rose garden.”

“Tell me about it. How’s it going with you?”

Watson picked up his kitbag and walked towards the shed at the end of the yard. “Reg and Bill are bloody good mechanics. Probably better than me but I’m holding my own. You’ll be the one with the problem from what I’ve seen. That boat is a monster to drive.”

“So it seems.” They stopped opposite the main office building.

“David’s all right when you get used to him,” Watson said.

Kane moved close to Watson and lowered his voice. “I still think that this gig is a heap of shit but it’s what we get paid for. Look, I got to get out of these wet clothes before I get pneumonia. We’ll compare notes later.”

“Okay.” Watson walked towards the sheds again. “Reg and Bill are expecting me to give them a hand with the engines and this is one job I don’t need to get fired from.”

David and Bell stood in the office removing their boiler suits and gumboots in

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