Death in Shetland Waters

by Marsali Taylor

  Agnetha drank the rest of her coffee, and took my mug from me. ‘I’ll go and get on my thermals for night watch.’ She paused, and I thought she was going to say something like, ‘If you see Mike, can you tell him I was looking for him?’ Then she sighed, closed her mouth again, and headed below.

  I wouldn’t be able to tell him, if I saw him. There was nothing I could do to help them with the mess they were in. But the watch wore on, and I didn’t see him. That wasn’t surprising in itself; he often did come out to chat with the trainees for a bit, then go back below. It worried me that Agnetha had looked below and not found him there either. The thought of Olav lay heavy on my mind.

  Seven bells, followed by silence except for the throb of the engine. Captain Gunnar came up to check our progress, but Mike wasn’t with him. When Agnetha came up, the anxious look had settled into her eyes and I saw her glance around the decks, searching each adult figure. Her manner was too carefully normal. ‘Well, here I am, all set to take over. Three layers of thermals.’

  ‘Even on a bonny summer night like this,’ I agreed. I felt her anxiety tug at my heart too. If she’d really been looking for Mike, she’d have found him. He might have been having a shower the first time she’d looked, but not the second, or the third. He wouldn’t be in the banjer with the trainees at this time, when half those below were sleeping, ready to get up at four, and the other half were scrambling into their full overalls. There was no reason for him to spend more than five minutes in the galley or the boat stores area. A cold shiver ran down my spine at the thought of the tunnels below decks. He might be in the carpenter store, fixing something, but Agnetha would have thought of that.

  She’d have looked everywhere before drawing attention to herself by asking me. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t ask Captain Gunnar. Her hand was tense on the rail, the knuckles bunched.

  I told her the course, and showed the log book, then watched as my trainees lined up, yawning, already starting to pull off hats and gloves, unwind scarves, to be quicker in bed. Opposite them, the red watch was straggling into their places. Sean was among them, alert as if he’d never been asleep. I saw him give a quick glance upwards; he was watching me as closely as I was watching him. He was on duty now, while I was a free agent, yet I didn’t know what I could do. I couldn’t go to the captain and say Mike was missing; he’d just think I was creating more drama. And suppose Mike was just absent on his own concerns? My mind baulked at the idea of two girlfriends aboard, but it would be hugely embarrassing for everyone if he was found in someone else’s bed.

  I didn’t want to cause trouble, but I didn’t want to do nothing either. Mike might not be … gone, my mind substituted for the ‘dead’ that sprang to my thoughts, but injured somewhere that was off-limits to the usual safety patrol.

  I watched my trainees file off, said goodnight to Erik, Mona and Petter, and waited until they’d finished in the crew galley before I knocked gently on Anders’ door and slipped into his cabin. There was no need to start up a new lot of speculation.

  He wasn’t asleep, just in bed, propped up on one elbow, reading a magazine. The bedside lamp turned his hair to guinea-gold, and gleamed on his brown shoulder. Cat and Rat were curled up in the crook of his knees; the two heads lifted as I came in, then snuggled back.

  Anders put the magazine away hastily, though not before I’d spotted the spiked writing and sword-brandishing warrior on the cover. His hobby was war games, and I knew that somewhere in the cabin was the roll of green baize with little pockets in which he carried his army, ready for meetings with fellow enthusiasts. I suppressed a smile, closed the door behind me and came in to sit down on the settee by his bed. ‘Anders, jeg er bekymret.’ I’m worried.

  He reached out one bare arm for a T-shirt and pulled it on, then put an arm around my shoulders. I leant against him, and was comforted by the warmth. Cat stretched forward to pat my cheek with one soft paw, then swarmed his way down into my lap. He was warm too. I stroked his side, and felt a rumbling purr. ‘What are you worried about?’

  ‘I think Mike’s gone missing now.’

  ‘Were you looking for him?’

  I suddenly realised I couldn’t tell the whole story. Some instinct of female solidarity held me back from betraying Agnetha, even to somebody I trusted as wholeheartedly as Anders. ‘Someone else was.’

  He gave me a sideways look, but made no comment.

  ‘They’d looked for him, and hadn’t found him.’

  The arm round my shoulders gave me an affectionate shake. ‘Cass, you do not listen to gossip. The whole ship knows, except perhaps the captain, for I think he would have put a stop to it, since Mike is a married man. And Nils is his brother-in-law, and at his throat for the way he is treating his sister.’

  I gaped at him, feeling very stupid. Anders shook his head at me and continued. ‘So … Agnetha was looking for him, and could not find him, and she asked you.’

  ‘I’d seen him earlier, around nine o’clock, but not since.’

  Anders considered this. ‘He would not be missed, of course, until breakfast. So, what do you want to do? You’re unpopular enough with the captain already.’

  I sighed and nodded. ‘But suppose he decided to … oh, I don’t know, follow up some clue or something. Look by himself for the man in the black jacket. I’m worried he may be lying injured somewhere. I feel we ought to look.’

  ‘No.’ Anders’ voice was unexpectedly firm. ‘No, we should not.’ He let go of me and turned so that we were face-to-face. ‘Cass, you believe – no, we believe – that there is a dangerous man on board. He is probably armed, since the man who chases him is also armed.’

  ‘Man who chases him?’ I echoed.

  ‘Your cousin.’ Anders gave my shoulders a gentle shake. ‘Wake up, Cass! You are not usually so slow on the uptake. Of course it’s likely that the two things are linked. A dangerous man stowing away on the ship, and another man who carries a gun. Either one is helping the other, or following him. Since he is your cousin, I will let him be on the side of the angels.’

  When he put it like that, it was blindingly obvious, and I felt stupid for not having seen it before, although I wished I could share his belief in which side Sean was on.

  ‘So you wish to search the places he might be hiding. No.’ He looked me straight in the eyes. ‘I’m serious, Cass. If he has really harmed Mike, he has less and less to lose. I will not help you search the ship, and if you try alone, I’ll go to the captain.’

  I could see he meant it. His mouth was set in a determined line, and his eyes were steel-grey. I felt as startled as if Cat had turned and bitten me. ‘But—’

  ‘No.’

  I took a deep breath and persisted. ‘But if Mike is injured somewhere, and we leave him, it could be too late. The man in the dark jacket wouldn’t be hanging around someone he thought he’d dealt with.’

  ‘No, but it is very likely he would have dealt with him somewhere he was hanging around. Somewhere Mike had cornered him.’ His hand cupped my cheek for a moment. ‘Cass, it is good that you feel you should do something, but now is a time for wisdom.’ His voice teased. ‘What have you always said about the girl who goes into the lonely old house?’

  ‘But if there is even a chance that we could help him?’

  ‘Then go to the captain, and have a proper search put underway.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Cass. Listen. You are not alone here, investigating. This ship has a hierarchy. If you are worried enough, go to the captain, and risk causing a huge fuss. Otherwise, leave it alone.’ He spread his hands. ‘Promise me you will do one of these two things.’

  I wasn’t happy, but I knew determination when I saw it. I knew sense too. The girl who went into the lonely old house and climbed the stairs usually came to a well-deserved sticky end. I sighed, and nodded. His point gained; Anders knew better than to say any more. I rose. ‘Goodnight, then. Come on, Cat. Bedtime.’

  I went out on deck to brush my teeth. T
he ship’s lights cast a silver glow over the aft deck, slanting down over the faces of the helm and standby, and sharpening Nils’s beaky nose … Suddenly, I saw the resemblance that had eluded me. Mike’s wife, who had come to see us off, had just that nose, those cheekbones, that sullen cast of mouth. If Mike was Nils’s brother-in-law, no wonder there was that sense of bitterness between them. And if Nils had overheard Agnetha this morning, as he passed along the corridor to breakfast, he had good cause to feel bitter.

  I retreated to my cabin, and lay awake for a long time in the dusk of the northern summer night, with the ship rolling below me and the soft pad of feet above my head. It wasn’t until after the first sunlight had touched the water on the eastern horizon that I finally slept.

  FOUR BELLS

  The North Sea, the Pentland Firth, the Atlantic Orkney to Cape Wrath

  Monday 29th June

  CHAPTER TEN

  I awoke with that sense of something wrong, then the events of yesterday came flooding back: the quarrel in the morning, the tension between Nils and Mike, the missing gun, Agnetha’s anxious face as she’d asked if I’d seen Mike. I swung my legs down, ignoring Cat’s growled protest, caught up my towel and headed for the showers. The hot water woke me up, but there was still that lingering nausea, so I headed up on deck for a breath of air before breakfast.

  Sea still surrounded us, but the turquoise colour was gone; these waves were the cold grey of my home waters. Shetland was just seventy miles away, over my right shoulder, and we’d soon see Fair Isle, then Orkney. The wind had fallen away completely, and we wouldn’t want sails in the Pentland Firth anyway, so I’d need to consult Erik and my ABs on ideas to keep our watch occupied. Scrubbing would be greeted with initial groans, but everyone enjoyed messing about with our wide sea-water hose. The white watch were busy right now, rubber-booted and woolly-hatted, cleaning the decks; my watch could do the houses.

  That settled, I headed for breakfast. Agnetha was there before me, white-faced, her hands twisting the napkin in her lap. She saw me noticing, and stilled them, but her fingers clenched on the white paper until she brought both hands up to lie one each side of her plate. Anders gave her a quick glance, then looked at the table again. Gradually, the others filed in: Jenn, Rolf, Henrik. Nils, fresh from on deck, with his mouth drawn down in sullen satisfaction. Captain Gunnar. Only Mike’s place remained empty. The captain noted it under drawn-down brows, and looked down the table at Rolf. ‘If you please, Rolf, the captain’s compliments to the chief officer, and we are ready for him to join us at breakfast.’

  Rolf nodded and slipped out, while the rest of us waited in silence. We heard a knock on the door, a pause, then the door opening. Rolf’s voice called, ‘Mike?’ There was no answer. The door closed again.

  Rolf returned, a worried line between his brows. ‘He’s not in his cabin, sir.’

  ‘Very well, we will start without him.’ The captain said grace, and we reached out for our breakfast preferences. I had a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach that drained my appetite. I poured half a glass of cherry yoghurt, but the flavouring seemed suddenly artificial. I pushed it away to finish later – Henrik had strong views on waste – and forced my oatmeal down.

  ‘We will arrive at Orkney today,’ Captain Gunnar said, ‘so perhaps, Cass, you could do your talk on the links between Orkney, Shetland and the Viking world.’

  I nodded. ‘Sir.’

  ‘Three o’clock. I look forward to it.’

  I saw Anders’ brows rise. I certainly wasn’t the obvious expert. I’d picked up a bit at Easter, helping guard the Viking sites in Unst, and found more in a guidebook, but it would take only one question from a real expert to floor me. I just hoped there wasn’t one on board.

  I cleaned my teeth, then headed up to the aft deck. Nils handed over with the minimum of words. On the chart plotter, the line pointing from the ship’s bows was still bang in the middle of the opening to the Pentland Firth. Sea crossings were like that: you chose your course, and steered it. I glanced down at Agnetha, standing by the rail midships, face white. She’d chosen her course too. It would be easier for her without Mike, a voice in my head pointed out. I wanted to ignore it, but I could feel the thought ticking on. Without Mike, she could go ahead with the abortion she wanted once we got back to Kristiansand, and continue working her way up the ranks to first officer, chief officer, captain.

  I shoved that thought away and concentrated on what I knew. Mike had been looking at the photos on the ship’s computer. He’d checked out Sean. That meant, I hoped, that he’d believed my version of where the gun had gone. Then what? He’d been on deck, chatting to the trainees, then come up aft with someone in a red jacket. I tried hard to focus on them in my head, but they’d been on the edge of my vision as I’d looked forward at the horizon. They’d come up, gone behind me. I hadn’t noticed them coming down again, but that wasn’t significant. I’d been focused on steering, then once I’d handed the helm back I’d moved forward to the rail. He could have gone down the nav-shack steps behind me and gone to talk to Sean, or to the Russian, if he’d seen him on deck, or gone right below, as I’d first thought, and investigated the tunnels for himself, and met the Russian there.

  I was just contemplating that when Captain Gunnar came up to me. ‘Cass, when was the last time you saw Mike?’

  I hoped he wouldn’t think I was suspiciously ready with my answer. ‘During my watch yesterday, sir. He was down on deck, talking to the trainees. Then he came up the steps.’

  ‘With a trainee? Of which watch?’

  I shook my head. ‘I didn’t notice, sir. He wore a red jacket.’ I tried again to remember, and had to shake my head. ‘I wasn’t looking.’

  ‘There was no reason why you should be. And the time?’

  At least I could answer this. ‘It was while we were looking at the dolphins. The exact time will be in the log – I noted the dolphins. 21.18, I think.’

  He frowned at that, and was silent for a moment. Then he sighed, and nodded. ‘Very well, Cass.’ He looked out and around him, as though he was drawing strength from the sea, and squared his shoulders. ‘We should see Orkney soon. You could let the trainees climb the rigging and look, if you wish.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Land-spotting always raised spirits, and even if most of low Orkney was only a smudge on the horizon, they should see the higher land on Hoy.

  ‘What time do we need to enter the Pentland Firth?’

  He had it all in my detailed passage plan, but he needed to know that I knew. ‘The tide turns with us at High Water Dover plus 1.15, sir.’ High Water Dover was 9.47 today; I’d already done the arithmetic. ‘11.02 BST. It’ll take us four hours to get through, and we’ll be through the passage between Stroma and Swona and past the Merry Men of Mey before the full force of it hits us. 3.5 knots as we’re coming out on the other side.’

  ‘Current ETA?’

  ‘11.00, sir.’

  ‘Good.’ My spirits rose at the word. Captain Gunnar turned away, then paused, and turned back. ‘Your friend who came on one of the fjord trips, he is a policeman, is he not?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Detective Gavin Macrae?’

  I nodded, stifling the hope that leapt in my breast like a dolphin bursting from the water. We were in Scottish waters, Gavin’s patch. If the captain was going to call for official help, it would be natural for him to ask for a name he knew.

  Captain Gunnar turned away and headed back down the nav-shack steps. I waited until the last buckets and scrubbing brushes were stowed, then beckoned Erik up and gave instructions for a climb to see land. There was a jingle and chink of harnesses being put on, then the steady clamber aloft. Johan waved from the second platform, and called downwards, ‘There. Over there.’

  It was funny, seeing land from sea. Even only passing it, I could feel it reaching out to claim me. Half an hour later, there was Fair Isle, a lump on the horizon. I’d sailed by it on Old Year’s Day, returning from Gavin’s loch. T
hen Orkney came suddenly over the horizon, unexpectedly close, long and low, with the humps of Hoy grey behind the long masses of Mainland, Burray and South Ronaldsay. As we came closer, we began to see the land colours through the mist, the green of pasture punctuated by white houses, hazed still with distance. Last night’s clear sky was gone; now there was a grey fleece stretching from the horizon behind us and over the mastheads to blanket the Orkney hills. To port, the Pentland Skerries lay low and ominous, a graveyard of shipping topped by two white towers. Behind them was the lower coast of the north-east tip of Scotland: Duncansby Head, looking like a separate island, Dunnet Head, Scrabster.

  We came into the firth bang on time. As soon as the tide caught us, our speed began to rise: six knots, seven, seven and a half. I went back to talk to the helm, Samir. ‘Keep her as bang on course as you can, now. See these two islands ahead? We want to be well clear of the left hand one, Stroma. There’s a nasty point, the Swilkie. Keep the ship two-thirds of the way across the channel.’

  He nodded. I’d watched him helming yesterday, and had confidence he’d steer a straight course. Anders was on deck at the engine controls, face set, eyes narrowed in concentration. ‘Don’t let the tide take us over eight and a half knots,’ I told him. ‘But keep good steerage way.’

  He nodded.

  Satisfied, I went back to my post. Now, on starboard, the pool between the islands was beginning to open out: Scapa Flow, where the British Navy had anchored during the war; where the Royal Oak had been lost, and the surrendering German officers had scuttled their fleet. I could just distinguish Flotta’s jetty, with a tanker lying at it, and the circular gas and oil tanks behind.