Bolton, J. - Now You See Me

‘To the rail,’ I said, glancing down to make sure. ‘Immigrants? Coming up the Thames?’

‘It’s not uncommon,’ he told me. ‘Container ships bring them across the North Sea. They get off a mile or so downriver, usually at Tilbury, and then head up in smaller crafts. Fred’s right though, it is bloody suicidal.’

‘We’ll be lucky to even see them in this weather,’ I said.

‘There they are,’ said Joesbury, reaching out and taking hold of my shoulder. ‘Ten o’clock. About two hundred metres away.’

He passed over the binoculars and guided them in the right direction. After a second or so, I could just about make out a medium-sized inflatable dinghy with a small outboard engine and no lights. Three people on board.

‘This is the Marine Policing Unit, switch off your engine and remain exactly where you are!’ Sergeant Wilson called out over the loudspeaker, making me jump. I handed the binoculars back to Joesbury. I didn’t have a good feeling about this and I really didn’t want to watch someone else go in the water. When Cooper and I had fallen in, the weather had been fine and the surface of the river smooth. In these conditions, it would be close to hopeless.

‘Shit,’ muttered Joesbury.

‘What’s happening?’ I asked.

‘They’re making a run for it,’ he replied.

The launch veered round in the direction of the north bank. We were flying across the water now. The small craft couldn’t hope to match the speed we were travelling at. Above my head I could hear someone on the radio. They’d be requesting back-up on the bank. Even if the dinghy made it the fifty metres or so to the side, there’d be police waiting for them. They were stupid to try to escape. But desperate people do stupid things, desperate people panic. I knew that better than anyone.

The launch veered round again and I half fell against Joesbury. ‘If I tell you to go back inside and get your head down, I expect you to do it,’ he said. ‘These twats could be armed.’

We were getting much closer now and our boat cut its speed. Joesbury lowered his binoculars and replaced them in the cabin just as our searchlight picked out the dinghy. Its occupants stared at us like startled wildlife.

We were less than forty metres away. Joesbury had positioned himself directly in front of me and I had to look round his shoulder. Two of the dinghy’s occupants were men. The other looked smaller and I could see hair blowing around a pale face.

The dinghy swerved to the left and I thought I heard someone crying out. Thirty metres away. When our searchlight found it again, I could see white hands clutching the rope that ran around the rim of the boat.

The dinghy swung round again as Fred repeated his warning. This time the small boat went head-on into a large wave. It seemed to hover on top of it for a second then went racing down the other side, just as a second line of wash hit it. When I saw it again, it looked lower in the water.

The sound of a second large engine told me another boat was heading towards us. Taking my eyes off the dinghy for a second, I spotted the flashing lights of another police launch just a short distance away. It cut its engines about thirty metres downstream of the dinghy. We were just upstream. Surely now they’d give up?

The people in the dinghy weren’t wearing lifejackets, I could see all three of them quite clearly now. They all looked soaked to the skin. The men had dark hair and heavy brows. The girl didn’t look much more than eighteen.

Then one of the men in the dinghy stood and raised his hands above his head, just as wash from both motor launches hit the small boat head on. It rocked one way, then the other, before tipping completely. Immediately, our boat went into reverse, backing away, positioning itself to be able to spot people in the water.

‘See anything?’ Joesbury yelled to me as the searchlights and powerful handheld torches from both police boats swept across the water.

I couldn’t. It was too dark, the water too choppy. Then the dinghy appeared, upside-down in the water, two large hands clinging to the rope that ran around its rim. The other police launch surged forward.

‘There’s another one,’ said Joesbury, just as our searchlight picked out the second of the two men in the water, swimming towards the bank. For a few seconds he made progress and then the tide took hold of him and he began to drift upstream and back towards the centre of the river. We gave chase.

It took just a few seconds to catch up with him, but by the time we did, he was visibly tiring. I glanced back to see that the other police boat had reached the upturned dinghy. The other man was probably safe.

On our boat, Fred and one of his constables were on the starboard deck trying to reach the swimmer. Joesbury unclipped his line and moved round the front of the boat to join them, leaving me alone on the port side. I could hear Fred and his colleague calling to the man in the water, telling him to catch hold of their hands. I turned back and began scanning the river again. There was no sign of the girl and it really wasn’t looking good for her.

Then I saw a white hand, not fifteen metres from the boat, moving quickly towards us. The tide had got her, would be taking her upstream, in just a second she’d be past us.

‘She’s here!’ I yelled. Her head surfaced and went down again. ‘I can see her!’

On the other side of the boat, I could hear cursing. Joesbury’s voice. Then more shouted instructions. The boat went into reverse and then moved sideways, further from the girl.

‘Sir! Sergeant Wilson! I can see her!’

Up in the cockpit, the driver seemed to glance at me, but keeping close enough to the man in the water needed his full attention.

The girl appeared again. She was trying to swim but she’d be tiring already. She’d have been cold and wet even before she went in. By now, her core organs would be drawing blood away from her arms and legs, making it harder for her to keep moving; she’d be dangerously close to giving up.

There was nothing I could do but keep her in sight. And hope she stayed on the surface for a minute or two longer. She went under again. Her small hand seemed to clutch at the air before it disappeared.

She was small and thin. She probably hadn’t eaten for a while. She’d be weak. And panic would make her too quick to suck in air. Even when her head was below the surface. One big gulp of river water and she’d go down.

There was nothing I could do. Even if I could bring myself to go into the river again, I’d never reach her and get her back to the boat.

Right next to where I’d been standing was a coiled metal wire, probably used for towing other craft or hauling heavy objects out of the water. On the loose end was a large steel clip. Without any real idea of what I was planning, I unclipped my lifeline from the boat rail and fastened it to the wire. Then I tugged the wire quickly so that around three metres of it was free. The rest should unravel.

Still with no plan whatsoever, I swung first one leg, then the other over the rail. A thin wooden ledge ran around the hull of the boat. Just wide enough for me to stand on.

The girl was level with me. I looked into eyes that seemed black as the water. I’d like to say I dived. To be honest, I think the boat swerved and I fell.

Got you , whispered the water rushing past my ears. For a split second I felt panic reaching up for me, like a huge, barnacleencrusted hand from the river-bed. Then I was on the surface again.

Don’t think about the river, think about the girl. Where is she?

I’d fallen in ahead of her, she should have hit me full on by now. No sign. A small cry behind me. I kicked myself round. There she was, being carried by the tide, already in front of the boat. I probably had seconds before the wire anchoring me to the boat would reach its full length. I took a deep breath and started swimming.