Chapter 11

“I’ve never been sure that Daddy named her after me or Queen Victoria,” Lady Vickie said. “I’d like to think ... but the doubt is always there.”

“She is pretty,” I stopped with that.

“And I am a Windsor,” she said. Lady Victoria was, like all young female Windsors, at the height of her looks. Her namesake, Queen Victoria was beautiful when young. The cares of the Empire spoiled her looks.

The boat we were speaking about was docked at Hung Hing Rd, Causeway Bay, Hong Kong. Docked ... not anchored or on the ball. Dockage is a very big deal in Hong Kong. Long time members have dockage rights in their will. Extremely rich, extraordinary famous makes no difference. The ability to walk to your boat at the Royal is priceless.

The Victoria was a ketch rigged, full keel pilot house fiberglas 88 feet (27 meters) LOD (length on deck) boat with a nice bowsprit that made her 100 feet (30.5m) LOA (length overall). She had a comfortable 20.5 foot (6.25m) beam and drew 8 feet (2.5m). The professional crew were lodged in “the bilge” while the family ... Victoria ... was stateroom family. White with fabulous polished wood and brass she sparkled. I got “the tour.” Nice boat.

“My turn,” I said. “Alex? May we enlist your help?”

Of course Winnie came with ... he had designs on my person ... I hope.

Some time later, the Mercedes Maybach limo pulled up at the Gate.

“Miss Flintkote, Lord Windsor, Lady Vickie ... if you will wait, I’ll summon the night manager. There’s been an accident,” said the guard.

And the rat wouldn’t say what, who or where said accident took place. I’d know if my sibs were dead ... or seriously injured. When JW broke his arm falling out of the apple tree, I knew. When Cyn waved the red flag of womanhood, I knew.

They both knew when I fell overboard. I have flashbacks of the argument about whether or not they were going to mention it to the captain.

Cyn was con ... JW was pro. I had been particularly vile to her just that morning.

So ... I knew the accident wasn’t to them.

I fretted. The only piece of property I owned in the Yard was the Surprise.

Mr. Chen ... or so his badge said ... came on foot.

No car ... no driver ... low executive on the organizational chart, I thought.

He did introduce himself.

I decided to rough him up a little.

“Mr. Chen. What has happened to my boat?”

Chen immediately turned to the guard. Before he could fire him or worse, I explained about triplets. “Your guard simply told us to wait. The boat is the only thing you have of mine. What happened to it?”

“As near as we can figure it out, they came in from Terminal 8 probably in containerized freight. RIB boats. There had to be a great many of them.”

“Who?”

“Terrorists or pirates. We’re not sure they both have reason to hate the guy.”

“WHAT. DID. THEY. DO. TO. MY. BOAT!?!”

“Oh ... they didn’t DO anything to your boat. The two warships did it.”

“WHAT?”

“Fell on it.”