Offshore (26 page)

“
So what do you think did happen?”

“
Something more … sinister.”

Another
mouthful of coffee, a tense rub of the brow, a deep sigh of
fatigue.

“
Consider how things have been over the
last few weeks,” he said. “Living cheek by jowl, overworked and
overtired. Throw in the booze and dope and you’ve got a powder keg
ready to go up, and where there’s been any trouble, there’s been
one person either the instigator or somewhere in the thick of it.
Desmond Reynolds.” Another scoof of coffee. “In a way
it
is
my fault. I’ve known since day one that there’s illegal
drink and drugs on board and I’ve turned a blind eye even though it
makes me an accessory, but what else could I do? Stepped in and
confiscated it? I can tell you now why I didn’t – because
I
would’ve been the
first one over the rail.”

“
What I think you should or shouldn’t have done doesn’t make
a whit of difference,” she said, giving his fingers a light
squeeze. Had she forgotten she still had hold of his hand? “Go on
with your theory.”

“
I think one of the others had had enough of Reynolds taking
the piss, snapped and killed him,” he said. “Afterwards they cut
him and set the fire to make it look like suicide to cover their
tracks.”

The hold
on his hand became a painful crush as she leaned forward, her voice
lowered, even though they were alone in the room.

“
By one of the others, you mean Jock McAllister don’t
you?”

“
He would be my prime candidate, yes. He certainly has a
temper and they’ve already had a scrap over nothing. It was Jock
who threw the first punch. You saw the results.”

“
I know, but suspecting him of murder. It’s absurd, just as
it is to suspect any of the others, especially someone like Duncan
or Dr Brewer? I can’t believe you could think any one of them even
capable.”

Brewer,
no, but why did she pick Cameron and not Shaw or McDougal? Why was
he so special? Was something going on between them that she wanted
to protect him, seeing as they were already on first name terms and
all? Something in Eddie’s gut shifted. Could this be what jealousy
felt like?

“
Everyone is capable, Lyd,” he said. “It’s just a matter of
being driven to it. I said it was just an idea, I have no proof of
anything. I could be totally wrong.”

“
Then let somebody else sort it out. But they can’t do that,
of course, until you report it.”

Eddie
rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and puffed out a weary
breath. “I’ll get onto Longdrift first thing in the morning.
They’ll call the police and they’ll come out and investigate. Until
they do though, I’m going to be keeping a very close eye on
everyone. I don’t want to take the chance of anything like this
happening again.”

“
And how are you going to do that? You can’t be in more than
one place at a time and this place is huge?”

“
CCTV will help. Half of them are redundant because we
haven’t needed them. I’ll switch ‘em all on now. I’ll have every
corner covered. A mouse won’t be able to fart without me knowing
about it.”

Lydia
sat up in her chair, eyeing him across the table. “Does that
include sickbay?”

“
Of course.”

She
shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

“
Why not?”

“
I don’t want you spying on me.”

“
I won’t be spying on you. I’ll be keeping an eye on you to
make sure you’re safe.”

“
It won’t be just me though. What about patient
confidentiality?”

“
What about it?”

Would you be comfortable with somebody nebbing in with a
camera while you had a medical consultation, particularly one of a
delicate nature? I might not have MD after my name, but see this
badge...” She tapped her shoulder flash and its embroidered
Caduceus, two fierce looking serpents entwined around a winged
staff, the international symbol for medic. “This makes me as good
as a doctor while I’m here, and as such I have a duty of care to do
my best by anyone who comes to me in my professional capacity, for
whatever their reason, and even odious creeps like Daz Reynolds
should expect to be guaranteed confidentiality.”

“
If I say you get one, you get one, and
there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.”

“
Oh, really?”
She leaned into him, eyes
contracted to furious slits. “Well let me tell you this
Mister
Capstan, if you so
much as think of putting one of your beady eye spies in my sickbay,
I promise you now, I will tear it down, clart it in Fiery Jack, and
shove it so far up your arse you’ll be able to see what you had for
breakfast, from the inside. Got it?”

She did not wait for his reply, already halfway to the
exit. Only the tabletop
heard him.

“
Got it.”

Chapter 29

First thing came and went, as did the rest of the morning.
Eddie pored
over the fire incident report and the photographs of
Reynolds’ body.

He
visited the wreck of the welding hut again, looking for more clues.
It didn’t help him much. In the afternoon he muddled through chores
to distract his mind. No help there either.

Eddie
spent a night tormented by dreams of torched bodies, grinning
blackened skulls and gulls with poached egg eyes hanging from their
beaks, waking with a start from his grisly visions with a hammering
heart and soaked in perspiration. He stripped off his T-shirt and
shorts and plunged into the shower, soothing warm water flowing
over him and slowly loosening his tightly wound coil. Dried and
dressed, he sat at his desk, opened his pad, picked up his pen, and
began to write.

Five
thousand words later, his fingers ached to the point of cramp and
he could do no more. Everything he had seen, smelled, tasted,
touched and thought about Reynolds’ death went down on the
paper.

The pen
acted as a conduit, draining tension out of him and pouring it into
his fictional character, alcoholic private detective Patrick
‘Paddy’ Knox to deal with.

In
contrast to Capstan’s disturbed night, Euterich slept like a stone,
his dreams only of Lydia Ellis.

The
previous evening after dinner Eddie Capstan had asked her to
accompany him to Reynolds’ cabin. “I want to have a quick look
round before I make my final report,” he said. “Just to make sure I
haven’t missed anything, then you can clear out his stuff. Get one
of the others to give you a hand”

“
Do you think we should,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s a
bit soon? He’s hardly –”

She
nearly said cold, but stopped herself.

“
Whatever you say,” she said.

“
I’ll do it,” volunteered Euterich. He had been hovering
close by, feigning curiosity.

Eddie
went in first, put on the light and took a quick look round, saw
nothing out of the ordinary, then called Lydia in. “Oh,” she
declared. “It’s so … clean.” She pushed aside the bathroom
door.

“
In fact, it’s spotless. I thought it would be more
disorganised, cluttered, socks on the floor and such. It’s tidier
than mine. Funny …”

Her
voice trailed off as she looked around, and Euterich felt a lurch
of apprehension.

“
Lydia?” Eddie asked.

“
Sorry. I was just thinking about Lonny’s cabin and how it
was just the same. As neat as a pin. Weird.”

Euterich’s alarm stepped up a notch. He had slipped up. Got
careless. Twice. He should have known. Before switching cabins, he
should have remembered to leave them in the way others expected to
find them, not the way he liked to keep them.

Fool!
Stupid, thoughtless fool!

Eddie
left them to get on with their task.

“
You don’t mind helping?” Lydia asked.

“
Not in the least,” said Euterich. It was the ideal
opportunity for him to spend some time with her; get close to
her.

“
I can’t find his bag,” Lydia said,
searching under the bed. “Where’s his drop bag?”

Another
slip. Euterich had used Reynolds’ bag to dispose of Reynolds’ body.
“Sorry, can’t help I’m afraid,” he said. “I’d lend you mine but I
need it.”

“
Never mind. I have a box in sickbay we can use. Won’t be
long.”

She left
him, and in her absence Euterich went over every inch of the cabin
looking for clues that might point to his and not the real
Reynolds’ former occupation of it. He found none.

He vowed
to be more careful with McAllister’s cabin and muss it up a little.
A thought occurred and he looked up to the smoke
detector.

With
only seconds to spare before Lydia came back, he detached the
plastic bag and elastic band sealing in clean air, and stuffed them
both in his pocket. He would need them later.

It took
very little time to pack away Reynolds’ clothes and other
belongings into the plastic crate, to roll up his sleeping bag, and
enclose his beloved guitar in her case.

As they
worked, Lydia and Euterich chatted.

She did
not give much away about herself, but Euterich spun her fine tales
about his extensive travels to exotic places, impressing her with
stories of the many and varied peoples he encountered, and a whole
catalogue of adventures and misadventures, mingling some of his own
stories with those he dragged out of McAllister’s
memories.

All the
while she listened intently, urging him to tell more when he
stalled. Their discourse continued en route to the shipping
containers to store Reynolds’ stuff, ironically next to Lonny’s,
and well into the evening.

His plan
seemed to be working, and when the time came to say goodnight, they
had spent the best part of four and a half hours together, and he
felt sure she would invite him into her cabin for a ‘nightcap’ to
squarely round off the evening. Maybe offer something a little more
…

Disappointed to the point of grief when she did not, he
retired instead to his own cabin to relive the short but oh so
sweet time of their shared company.

“
Lydia. Lydia. Lydia.” Her name dripped from his tongue like
honey, and he called up an image of her; her dimpled smile, her
bright eyes, her girlish giggle and the way she blushed when he
told her particularly raunchy stories.

He lay
on his bed and thought of Lydia and slipped into sleep, welcoming
the darkness and the freedom his dreams brought.

Freedom
to do whatever he wanted, to whomever, without penalty; freedom for
him and Lydia Ellis to be together.

And
together they were. In bed, on the beach, in the woods, indulging
in session after session of glorious, euphoric, exhilarating sex.
Time after time after time - here, there, everywhere, anywhere -
employing a whole Karma Sutra of positions.

As he
passed into a post fantasy-sex stupor, his real sleep deepened and
he woke next morning refreshed and joyful with
realisation.

No mere
infatuation this; he was in love. It surged in him, making his head
light, setting his heart aglow and driving blood into his
cock.

After a
most satisfactory period of intense masturbation he treated himself
to a roll up made from the cannabis/tobacco mixture liberated from
Lonny Dick.

It
proved to be a little too heavy on the THC for McAllister’s body to
cope with and soon there came upon him a sense of floating elation,
a cheeriness unlike any he had experienced in a long time, and
combined with his strength of feelings for Lydia it took away his
inhibitions, and it made him reckless … yet somehow, he couldn’t
bring himself to care.

He
headed for the galley to find another stimulant with which to
further enhance his blissful jubilation - caffeine.

The
cathartic exercise of writing himself to a standstill had the
desired effect on Eddie too.

He
managed to snatch a few hours sleep and now, despite his stiff neck
and painful fingers, he felt better in himself; looser, clearer in
mind and ready to face what he had to do. First though, he put on
clean socks and made for the galley. As it was Sunday and no work
had been scheduled, the place was empty, everyone exploiting the
free time to catch up on sleep.

All it
seemed, except McAllister.

Up and
about and surprisingly bright eyed and bushy tailed, he pottered
about in the galley, nosing through the cupboards and lockers,
flitting from one to the other with almost manic rapidity, all the
while sucking on a cup of black coffee.

“
What can I get you, guv?” he said, when he saw
Eddie.

“
Just looking for some coffee.”

“
Coming right up. Anything to eat?”

“
Er … no thanks.”

“
You do know breakfast is the most important meal of the
day, don’t you? Got to get some fuel in the engine. How about a
full Scottish? Sausage, bacon, black pudding? Get some meat on your
bones. You’re looking a tad peaky if I might be so
bold.”