Death in Shetland Waters

by Marsali Taylor

  ‘We do understand confidentiality, you know.’

  I nodded. ‘It’s not that. It’s – it’s trust between shipmates.’ I turned to look straight at him. ‘I can’t. Really, I can’t.’

  He didn’t move, but I felt as though he had. There was still a gulf between us. My allegiance should have been to him, or to the forces of law that he represented here, not to the ship. I was in the wrong and I knew it, and until I got myself back in the right, we’d be as separated mentally as we were physically. There was a silence that seemed to drag out for ever. I felt a chill running down me. Was it so easy to lose a relationship? Part of me wanted to turn to him now and tell him everything, but some dogged loyalty kept me silent. Playground mentality, I told myself, not telling the teacher even when she should be told; not wanting to be the copper’s nark.

  Four bells rang out above our heads. Six o’clock. I looked bleakly at Gavin, and he stretched his hand to mine. ‘Either it was you, or it was someone who was prepared to see you take the rap.’

  ‘She’s got the evidence now.’ I thought of the glinting hairs on my cap.

  ‘If it was your jacket and cap. If it was, if usable traces have been left, we’ll know a couple of days after we arrive in Belfast.’ His fingers curled tight around mine. ‘Cass, you’re too important to me to risk. You know now, none better, what a murderer will do if he or she feels threatened. I’ll tell you what I know about Callaghan’s killer. It’s someone who’s quick-thinking, decisive, ready to snatch the opportunity that’s offered. It’s someone who’s prepared to take risks. Organised. Someone with those qualities could have come in and snatched up your jacket while everyone watched the dolphins, then gone out to waylay Callaghan. They were knowledgeable enough to kill him silently, and strong enough to put his body where it was found. They were daring enough to do it, in spite of you being less than a metre away.’ He paused, grey eyes searching mine. ‘But there’s no reason why any of the trainees would do that. He didn’t know them, he wasn’t working closely with them.’

  I nodded.

  ‘So I’m looking at one of your shipmates. Organised, clever, ruthless. Ruthless enough to frame you by using your jacket. Cass, do you really want somebody like that fearing that you might have something on them?’

  ‘I know you’re right,’ I said. ‘I know. But I don’t believe the person I’m thinking of killed Mike. If I was to tell you what I know, it would cause all sorts of complications that couldn’t then be undone. I can’t spoil their reputation, their career, with my suspicions.’

  He sighed and looked around, then rose, pulling me with him, out of the room, across the corridor and through the curtain into my own room. We sat down on the settee together, and he put his arm around my shoulders. ‘Cass, I do understand. You don’t get on with Freya Peterson, and you do get on with your shipmates, one in particular – I’m already beginning to learn about people dynamics on board – and you don’t want to betray your friend.’ He reached into his sporran and drew out a letter, sealed in a clear evidence bag. I recognised Agnetha’s handwriting, saw the words desolate without and turned my head away before I could read any more – you here … my brain finished off.

  ‘It was in a book in Callaghan’s room. So, you see, we know about the affair now. Freya will be talking to Agnetha again as soon as she comes off watch.’ He looked me straight in the eyes, hand gripping my shoulder. ‘You won’t warn her?’

  He was trusting me enough to risk his career. I knew he shouldn’t have shown me the letter. I slid my hand into his, and shook my head. ‘No.’

  If she was innocent, interrogation wouldn’t hurt her. She could say as little or as much as she liked. I reckoned Agnetha was a match for Freya Peterson: two strong-minded career women, determined on their upwards path. If she was guilty – but I wouldn’t think about that.

  ‘Is what you don’t want to say evidence that we could use?’

  Was it? I considered that, and shook my head, eyes on the letter. ‘Not more than you’ve got.’

  I felt like I’d just been to confession; absolved. It was alright again. I curled down into the curve of Gavin’s shoulder and turned my head, my mouth searching upwards for his. We kissed passionately, arms tight around each other, my hand curved around the muscles of his shoulder, and wanted each other. He pulled back from me. ‘I’m still on duty.’ He smiled. ‘How soon do we get to Belfast?’

  ‘Won’t you still be on duty there?’

  ‘It’s not my jurisdiction. I’ll hand Mike’s body over, and update them on my findings, but the Northern Constabulary will take over the investigation, and we can be together.’

  ‘Good.’ I withdrew my hands from his, and checked my watch. ‘Dinner time. I’d better tidy up.’

  ‘Dinner at the captain’s table.’ Now he was teasing me. ‘No evening dress?’

  ‘Evening dress aboard this ship is all the thermals and outerwear you’ve got,’ I retorted. ‘Which I’ve given to Sergeant Peterson.’ I glanced out through the porthole. The sun was still dazzling on the grey sea, and the long rollers had subsided as the wind had fallen. It shouldn’t be too cold. I laid an extra jumper ready to put on between leaving the warmth of the officers’ mess and heading up on deck, and I’d have my fleece-lined mid-layer jacket on top. That should do me.

  It was a glorious evening. The full moon came up fine on our port bow, the pale-gold of polished brass, dodging behind the clouds to dazzle out in an orange spotlight on the water, bright as tongues of fire, or sailing from behind them to make a dancing pathway stretching from us to the horizon. We were clear of lobster-pot territory now, but although the wind was from a better quarter, it was too soft to make it worth setting sail. We motored on into the dusk, with only the occasional glint of light from a passing ship to break the velvety blue dimness of the sea horizon.

  This would be an extra long watch, for we needed to get the ship back to Blighty time, and Captain Gunnar had decreed that the blue watch would stand an extra hour, till one, then the ship’s clock would go back to midnight, and the red watch would do their usual midnight till four, BST. The dimness closed to navy, then black, the moon’s light shrouded by the clouds, the ship’s rigging lit only by the deck lights. It was lucky that the nav was easy, for I was stumblingly tired by the end of the watch.

  All the officers of the blue and red watches were spread around the aft deck, just above the companionway down – a steep flight of a dozen steps with a varnished handrail on each side – with Captain Gunnar slightly further over, in the centre of his bridge, ready to declare it midnight again. I’d handed over to Agnetha and said a general goodnight. I was starting down the stairs, one hand on the midships handrail, when something caught at my ankle, yanked at it, and before I knew it I was falling.

  It’s at times like these you realise what a puny thing the human body is. I slammed against the handrail with a wallop, and attempted to grab at it, but my grasp was weaker than the force of my eight stone being pulled by gravity. My shoulder banged painfully against the handrail and I tried again to grab, but now I was in freefall, catapulting towards the solid deck ten feet below.

  It was my other foot that saved me, catching on the step it had been about to stand on. It dragged for just long enough to pull my falling length back towards the step, instead of forwards, and just at that moment the bow went up over the long Atlantic swell and tipped the ship backwards. I paused in mid-air; truly, I felt myself pausing, for everything seemed to be in slow motion, inevitable as a car skidding. Then the friendly, hard steps came up to meet me, and time speeded up once more. I hit them with a force that slammed the breath out of my lungs. A hard edge bashed my chin. My hands grabbed the steps and I was slithering down, cheek scraped against one step, shoulder thunked again by another, until I ended in an undignified heap at the bottom, somersaulted over myself and lay still. Green stars sparked around me.

  The stairs rang as my fellow officers clattered down to me. ‘Cass, are you OK?’ Erik’s vo
ice.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, loudly, to show I was conscious. I didn’t move yet, but I opened my eyes to look up at the concerned circle standing round me. ‘Give me a minute to check.’ I flexed my fingers experimentally, then moved my arms. Nothing broken. Toes and legs, ditto. I was pretty sure I hadn’t banged my head as I’d come down. Lucky. Louisa Musgrove had come off far worse. Gradually, the stars subsided.

  Someone must have called for Sadie, for she was on deck now, feeling down my spine, pelvis, arms and legs, checking my ears. ‘Bring her into the hospital.’

  I reached for Gavin’s hand and let him support me as I eased myself into a sitting position. My shoulder hurt worst. It had had two bashes. I’d have a bonny bruise in the morning. I ran my other hand over it. It felt as it should, and there was no bone pain.

  My head was spinning. I could hear the trainees on watch chattering, relaying the story round the people who’d missed it: Fell right down the stairs, concussion, just tumbled right down, hit the deck, nearly fell overboard … I’d be lucky if twenty phones weren’t already winging the photos of me sprawled on deck to Norway. I leant on Gavin, staggered through into the hospital cabin and folded myself into the chair. My eyes closed. ‘Don’t go to sleep,’ Sadie said. ‘Cass, don’t go to sleep.’

  I opened them again. ‘I don’t think I hit my head on the way down.’ I managed a laugh. ‘Everything else.’

  She shone a light into my eyes. ‘Pupils even, but keep an eye on them.’ That seemed to be at Gavin. ‘Pulse.’

  ‘Tumultuous,’ I murmured. I was beginning to feel light-headedly cheerful. ‘I thought I’d had it there.’

  ‘How on earth did you come to fall?’ Sadie asked.

  ‘Tripped. An extra hour of watch did for me.’ I flicked a glance at Gavin. His mouth was grim. I could see he didn’t believe me, but he wasn’t going to question me in front of Sadie.

  ‘No serious damage. You were lucky.’

  ‘Luck of the Lynches,’ I agreed. Luckier than she knew.

  ‘I should maybe keep you in here, in case of delayed concussion. But—’ She looked a question at Gavin.

  ‘We’ll stick together,’ Gavin said.

  My heart gave a hopeful leap. Being together was worth falling down stairs for.

  Sadie looked relieved. ‘Listen for unusual breathing. Check her pupils.’

  ‘I’m going to have some beautiful bruises tomorrow.’

  ‘And scrapes.’ She opened her cupboard and brought out a bottle of antiseptic and a wad of cotton wool. ‘This may well sting. Sorry.’

  It did sting. It burnt like fire on my cheek and chin. I gritted my teeth and endured, remembering a childhood of grazed knees: ‘Non, Maman!’ Her beautiful face, very calm above me. ‘Il faut.’ No more argument, even from my mutinous six-year-old self. When Maman said ‘Il faut’ like that, then it had to be done. My hands next, well grazed on both palms, with a bonny slice cut across my knuckles that was oozing improbably vermilion blood. Funny how humankind had got to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, but not managed to invent an antiseptic that didn’t sting. ‘Thanks,’ I said, once it was over. ‘I’ll do now.’

  ‘Tough, you sailing types.’ She shook her head, laughing. ‘It was a spectacular fall.’

  ‘Probably on Facebook already,’ I agreed. ‘Thanks, Sadie.’

  ‘No worries.’

  We left her putting away the bottle and headed for my cabin.

  Peace. Quiet. I lay back on my bed and felt the rise and fall of the ship soothe me. Gavin closed the door behind us, then sat down on the settee, facing me, one arm over my midriff. ‘Well?’

  ‘I was tripped.’

  ‘I’d already deduced that.’

  I started to shake my head, and was stopped by another burst of green stars. ‘No, accidents do happen on board ship, even to the most sure-footed of us. But this wasn’t one. Someone caught at my ankle as I lifted my other foot, and I went over.’

  ‘How do you mean, caught at your ankle? Bent down and grabbed it?’

  ‘Not with fingers. Hard, like the edge of a shoe. The foot nearest the rail, the centre of the ship. Hooked their foot round my ankle, maybe? I’m not sure. I just felt the tug, then I was falling.’

  His arm tightened across my waist, and I thought of my little passenger, and hoped the fall hadn’t hurt it. ‘Who was there? Above you?’ I could see him already thinking back, visualising.

  ‘All of us. We’d just changed watch and declared midnight. Erik, Petter and Mona from my watch. Rolf – I think he tried to grab me as I fell. Agnetha. Her ABs were below, organising the watch, but Jonas was there, her watch leader.’ Suddenly, behind him, I saw my cousin Sean, beside the helm.

  ‘Sadie?’

  ‘I don’t think so … why would she be on deck at that hour?’

  ‘She said it was a spectacular fall, as if she’d seen it.’

  Rolf. Agnetha. Sadie. I hadn’t seen Nils; he’d be sleeping, ready to get up for 4 a.m.

  Gavin leant forward to lay his head against my side, gently, not letting the weight fall on me. His hair tickled my cheek; he smelt of salt air and Imperial Leather soap. ‘My heart stopped as you went over. I was down midships, and trying to get to you, to catch you.’ He lifted his head so that he was looking at me. ‘I knew I wouldn’t manage it. In that instant I thought of all the dead bodies I’d seen, and feared you’d be the next.’

  I brought my hand up to hold his. ‘We Lynches are much harder to kill than that.’

  ‘So someone is finding.’ He leant back, and smiled. ‘Well, are you going to bed?’

  I returned his smile, and tightened my grip on his hand. ‘Are we?’

  ‘I wasn’t wanting to push my luck.’ He gestured at the settee. ‘I’d be fine here.’

  ‘From the official point of view, that would compromise you just as much. You should be sending Sergeant Peterson in, to lose her night’s sleep.’

  ‘Be damned to that.’ He stood up and took his jacket off. ‘If you’re sure you’re not too shaken.’

  ‘All in a day’s work aboard a tall ship,’ I said, and reached forward to kiss him.

  I woke in the night and felt myself bleeding. The child that I’d only known I was carrying for half a day was leaving me, and with the wash of relief I felt a sadness sharp and sudden as standing barefoot on a thistle.

  When I slipped back into bed, Gavin turned towards me without waking, his arm curving over me, his soft breathing undisturbed. His skin was warm against mine, but I had never felt so alone.

  SIX BELLS

  The Irish Sea: Tiree to Belfast

  Wednesday 1st July

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I woke up at my usual half past six, Norwegian time, and was confused for a moment as I heard only three bells sound above me, then I remembered Captain Gunnar nodding at the safety watch to ring eight bells again. Half past five, British time. I was curled into the curve of Gavin’s body, with his arm over my waist. His breathing was soft and even, warm on my shoulder, barely audible over the shoosh of the water on the ship’s side. I snuggled closer, smiling, and his arm tightened around me. Cat was on the other side of me, determinedly holding his place on the berth, paws braced on the wood lip, in spite of the double-person pressure on him to move towards the cold metal porthole shelf. He opened one yellow eye as he felt me stir, greeted me with a yawn, expanded into the extra centimetre of space I’d created and curled his tail back over his nose.

  Falling. I remembered the hard tug at my ankle, then the graceless cartwheeling into the air, the slam as I hit the deck. Several bits of me hurt: my cheek and chin, my shoulder, the cut along my hand. My hip. My stomach. I felt the emptying space inside me, and bit my lip. The child I had wanted to protect was gathered back into nothingness – no, gathered back to God, for us to meet again in our next life. Yet even as I was grieving, relief was pushing its way into my mind, along with a resolve that I’d go on the pill as soon as I possibly could. I wouldn’t yet have to choose betw
een the sea and a child – but the choice to be made lingered still in my mind. I pushed it away, and said a prayer for the little soul that was leaving me. My cheek was warmed by Gavin’s shoulder. I wouldn’t have to tell him now, or force him to make choices. It was all over, and I had to face him with clear eyes when he woke. I moved my fingers down to my stomach in a farewell caress, then set myself to bring the day into focus.

  Who had tripped me? I tried to visualise it again. I’d handed over the watch to Agnetha, and she’d got her new helm settled on course. Sean had been on standby helm, but I thought I’d have noticed him forward among the crew, and he couldn’t have caught at me from the side of the steps with a boathook, say, because Captain Gunnar had been standing there. Mona had stayed down on deck, but Erik and Petter had come up after they’d dismissed the watch. Now I was thinking about it, they had been standing together, directly behind me, and Erik had motioned me in front of him. Either of them could easily have hooked a foot round my ankle.

  I couldn’t rule Agnetha out either. Her watch leader and two ABs would have been down on deck, but she’d been right there, standing by the corner of the stairs. She could have done it. Erik, Petter, Agnetha. Sean. But what did I know that had made me such a danger?

  I thought about that one for a bit. I knew about Agnetha’s pregnancy. I was certain that Erik and I were the only ones who knew about that, unless Sadie had guessed. If I was eliminated … No. I stopped myself there. I’d had a nasty fall, but if somebody really wanted to eliminate me there were surer ways. I’d had a chance of a broken neck, but a broken arm or leg were more likely. No. Somebody just wanted to throw me off my stride, give me something else to think about for a bit. Get me off the ship, maybe? I’d be able to manage with a broken arm, but I’d be no use aboard on crutches. Reduced to galley duty, like Long John Silver … I contemplated that for a moment. If it was Agnetha, she wouldn’t want to kill me, but if I was put out of action she could go ahead and have her abortion, then deny everything. But now Mike was gone, she could do that anyway. I didn’t see how me being out of the way would help her.