Captain Cotton Top Ch 01
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Captain's ChoiceEpilogue free porn video
Our son, Bobby, is growing in leaps and bounds right before our eyes. He can roll over now and is showing signs of getting ready to crawl. It doesn't matter if he is on land or on the boat, he is happy. I think we are close to when he will be sleeping through the night and I'm sure that will be a big relief to Ardele. She's taken to motherhood the way she approaches anything she really thinks is important: full blast. If she isn't online searching information, she's buying books. And, there's no doubt now that there will be another Hamelin coming along in the next two years.
Our business isn't anywhere near as full as it was last year, but that is by design. I wanted us to have a chance to get to know and bond with our son and I'm sure it was the right decision.
We finally settled with the insurance company over the loss of Captain's Choice. They didn't want to pay the full amount and their reasoning was that we didn't take adequate precautions to prevent the theft. They offered half payment and we immediately rejected it, supplying documents attesting to the potential resale value of the boat and the security measures at the marina.
I got fed up with arguing about it and called Sam Fowler, explained the situation and gave him his instructions: sic 'em. Sam was on the job immediately and within two weeks, had an agreement for settlement at the full amount.
He reminded them that there was specific wording in the insurance policy as to the value of the boat and that there was no wording to allow them to renegotiate. He suggested a court case would be costly and do them no credit when they lost. Sam was sure that their legal department advised them of the same and they were just trying us on to see if we would cave. We didn't and we got everything including Sam's costs. I didn't mind that a bit.
The final costs of transporting Del's Choice up to our part of the world and bringing it up to the specifications we envisioned came to just under $300,000. We retired the loan we took to pay for the boat and transport and had almost $200,000 left from the insurance claim. It's a nice contingency fund for us, gaining a modest interest in an investment account that Joel recommended.
I called the RCMP CID in Burnaby twice over the summer to see what progress they had made on the theft of Captain's Choice and the death of the two men. It was now over a year since the theft and destruction of our boat. Each time I was transferred to the office of the Combined Forces Special Enforcement Unit, with no explanation what the connection was. They maintained that it was "confidential information related to an ongoing investigation," code words for "go away boy, you're bothering us." We were almost resigned to never knowing why the boat was stolen.
Then, over six months later, in the dead of winter, I happened to drive by the boat yard where I had restored my father's boat and noticed the remainder of a hull that looked slightly familiar. It was on a cradle and there was yellow tape around the area. It was irresistible. I turned around and drove into the yard. As I got closer, the scorched bow revealed the numbers I had seen once before, in Hotham Sound.
The tape proved to be police tape and warned off anyone from getting too close. There was no doubt that it was the remains of Captain's Choice. I walked to the yard manager's office and entered.
"I'm Pat Hamelin," I said to the vaguely familiar older man. "You may remember me from my restoration project five years ago."
"Nope, sorry, can't say I do," he said without much examination. "What can I do for you?"
"That boat over there, the hulk with the police tape around it. That was the boat I restored."
"Oh yeah? Won't be restoring that one again."
"No, I can see that. Why is it here?"
"The cops wanted to go over it. They were looking for something, but didn't say what. I saw what they took away anyhow."
"What was it?"
"Dope, I figure. Looked like a whole bunch of packages in plastic wrap, about the size of a small shoe box. Must have been stashed somewhere below. About forty or fifty of them I'd guess. Everything topside was blown away."
"Are they still looking for something?" I asked.
"Naw, they haven't been around for a couple of months now. They're still sending the cheque for the cradle and space, so I'm not going to shoo them away. Typical, ain't it? Your tax dollars at work."
"Yeah ... I guess. Thanks for the info," I said, walking out and back to my vehicle.
I sat behind the wheel before going anywhere. There were still some unanswered questions. So it was dope, but how did they get it aboard? Del and I were there all the time they were. Where did they stash it? There were only a couple of places that might have kept us from finding it. One would be the chain locker with the anchor cable. We seldom had to go in there. The other might be somewhere in the engine room, but I doubted that. We were down there regularly and there weren't many hiding places that could handle that many packages.
I'd pretty much convinced myself that they must have hidden their stash in the chain locker. The bow had survived the explosion for the most part. The only way they could have brought that many packages on board was in their luggage. I remembered they didn't want any help with taking them on board. In fact they were adamant that the boys leave them alone. That must have been the vehicle, then.
Okay, I've got that part figured out, but why leave the packages on my boat when they left? They must have been pretty confident that it was a safe hiding place. Then, two weeks later, they return and steal the boat because they can't take the chance of being spotted moving the dope. Still weird. Why my boat in the first place? Why the bizarre hiding place? Too many questions and not enough answers.
"That's really strange," Ardele said when I told her of my discovery and my guesses. "I'm with you. Why your boat and why just for a few days?"
I was shaking my head. "The only thought I had was that maybe they were nervous someone was on to them. Maybe the cops, or some other gang. Maybe they panicked after a while and decided to move the stuff."
I sat for a while, just thinking about what I had deduced about the entire event. It was like an itch I couldn't scratch. I really wanted to know just what had caused the whole situation.
"I think I'll give RCMP CID another call and see if I can get an appointment with them. They've blown me off a couple of times, but if they think I know something, maybe they'll give me an idea of just what happened."
"Good luck," Del grinned. "Like a dog with a bone. You just can't let it go, can you?"
I shrugged. "It's worth a try."
I was ushered into the office of the Combined Forces Special Enforcement Unit. Fancy title for what was supposed to be an integrated attack on drugs and organized crime. I had been bounced here from the Criminal Investigation Branch when I tried to get some answers to my questions on Captain's Choice.
"What did you want to discuss, Mr. Hamelin?" Sergeant Vicic asked in a flat tone. He had made it plain he really didn't want to discuss the case, but on the off chance that I knew something useful, he would tolerate me for a few minutes.
"Can you tell me why I was never interviewed by the police about the five men who chartered my boat? I would have thought you wanted to know everything there was to know about them, considering their previous records."
He looked at me with a deadpan expression before answering.
"We didn't think it was necessary. After you reported them to the Campbell River detachment, they put a tail on them. It wasn't until your boat was stolen that we thought they might have left something valuable on board."
"I gather you found it in the bow ... what remained of the chain locker," I suggested.
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