The Silence of the Sea (35 page)

Thóra was disturbed by her gloating. ‘I doubt it, but it bothers me that we can’t get hold of either of them. It’s a bit too much of a coincidence and I’d like to know what’s going on.’ She opened the window. Fresh air flooded into the room and the splitting headache that had afflicted her since her visit to the yacht receded a little. ‘There’s a chance that finding out won’t help us at all, but it’s still frustrating not to know.’

Bella filled her lungs, as grateful as Thóra for the fresh air. ‘But you’re wondering if Aldís killed the people on board.’

Thóra’s headache returned with a vengeance and she felt a sudden longing to go home. ‘I’m not wondering anything of the sort. Just whether either or both of them could conceivably be linked to the disappearance. Not necessarily as the perpetrators. But indirectly.’

Bella went off in search of Bragi after being assured that he would arrange the upgrade, and Thóra was left massaging her temples in an attempt to relieve the pain. Perhaps Aldís had no connection to her employer’s alleged death. She called the dates to mind and worked out from the information provided by Karítas’s mother that her daughter could well have been in Lisbon when the crew arrived. She could have become involved in an altercation with one of the men when they refused to let her on board, perhaps, or because they were confiscating the yacht that she may still have regarded as rightfully hers. It was not difficult to imagine how a row like that could have got out of hand. But what then? Had Ægir, Lára and the twins inadvertently stumbled on the truth, maybe by catching the culprit or culprits in the act of throwing the body overboard at a safe distance from land? Could that have led to their being disposed of in the same way? However hard Thóra tried, she simply couldn’t picture this chain of events. Surely no one would go to such lengths?

‘It’s unlikely to achieve anything but I propose we do it anyway.’ Even seriously sleep deprived, Thráinn still commanded respect. Ægir wondered for a moment what it would be like to be a captain with authority over everyone on board, like the dictator of a mini state.

‘There’s no other explanation. Let’s hunt down this maniac, then get the hell home.’ Halli was breathing fast and couldn’t disguise his relief that they had agreed to act on his suggestion of overpowering the stowaway. It was hardly surprising: as the prime suspect, he had the most to gain from their standing together. Either that or he would be left to confront them alone. However, their newfound solidarity depended on their finding the uninvited guest who Halli insisted must have thrown the body overboard and murdered Loftur. He steadfastly maintained his innocence and, like Thráinn, was very persuasive. Ægir could only hope that he himself sounded even more convincing about his own and Lára’s lack of involvement. He kept quiet about the fact that he had been awake for over an hour while his wife and daughters slept. Otherwise he would find himself in the same predicament as Halli – desperately trying to make Thráinn believe that it was not him.

‘How are we going to do this?’ Ægir shuddered at the thought of walking alone through the corridors, peering into every dark corner, with the risk that the murderer – whether it was Halli, Thráinn or the putative stowaway – might be lurking behind the nearest door. Ægir was inclined to believe that Halli was the guilty party but he could not entirely discount Thráinn since none of them were qualified to calculate Loftur’s time of death or ascertain exactly how he had met his end. Both Thráinn and Halli had been alone for most of the afternoon and there was no way of knowing which of them was telling the truth when they protested their innocence. Thráinn was calm, Halli on edge, and Ægir lacked the experience to determine which was the more normal behaviour for a blameless man. Perhaps there was no such thing as normality in a situation like this. He himself was still in shock from the sight of Loftur’s dead body and kept being assailed with the desire to break into hysterical laughter.

When they had reached the Jacuzzi, steam was rising from under its padded cover and all three had stood there at a loss for a moment until Thráinn decided to lift it off. Neither Ægir nor Halli had taken a step closer or offered the captain any help as he struggled with the heavy, slippery lid. And no one had said a word when it was finally removed and they were confronted by the sight of Loftur, submerged fully dressed in the hot water, his eyes and mouth wide open. Countless silvery bubbles clung to his hair like a tiara, rendering his death mask even more grotesque. It would be a while before Ægir could bear to enter a hot tub again after witnessing Loftur’s blank gaze. The memory of how the water had trickled from his nose and mouth after they heaved him out and rolled him over onto his back only made it worse. ‘I’m not sure I want to leave my family alone.’

‘We’re sticking together, the three of us. It’s not up for discussion.’ Despite stifling a yawn, Thráinn still spoke with authority. ‘Your wife and daughters can wait here in the pilot house. It’s lockable from inside and there are windows in all the doors, so they’ll be able to see anyone who wants to come in.’

‘How will it help to see who’s outside if the man’s intent on breaking in? If he even exists.’ Ægir’s mind was racing; he knew this was his only chance to detect any flaws in the plan that might cost his wife and daughters their lives. His love for them was the only thing that mattered. To hell with the money, to hell with it; to hell with everything except them.

‘It wouldn’t be that easy to break in. The plastic in the windows is specially toughened to withstand gales and waves far more powerful than any human being. But if it comes to that, they wouldn’t be defenceless.’

‘Oh?’ Ægir’s voice sounded almost shrill and he paused to get a grip on himself. Laughter welled up inside him again over the absurdity of it all. Lára had never had any reason to resort to a weapon in self-defence. Normal life seemed more remote than ever: shopping for food, replacing the washer on the bathroom tap, having their parents round to dinner, changing the batteries in the smoke alarm. It all seemed so ridiculous now that it made his chest ache. He was on the brink of losing control. ‘What, are you planning to give Lára the axe?’ He gestured to the weapon that was hanging on the wall of the bridge but his hand shook so badly that he quickly lowered his arm. It wouldn’t do for the other two to see what a state he was in.

‘No.’ Thráinn was as imperturbable as Ægir was agitated. ‘I’m going to lend her a revolver.’

Unable to help himself, Ægir finally began to giggle. Soon it had spiralled into helpless laughter that reminded him of his short-lived experiments with smoking grass in the sixth form. Pointless, self-propagating mirth. The other two men stared at him until he couldn’t laugh any more and broke into noisy hiccups. ‘She doesn’t know how to use a gun.’ Another brief gust of wild hilarity followed.

‘It’s not exactly difficult.’ Thráinn looked concerned, doubtless more over Ægir’s state of mind than Lára’s ability to use a firearm. ‘She just has to point and pull the trigger.’

‘Is that a good idea?’ Halli blurted out the words before he realised how they could be interpreted – that he would rather she were unarmed and therefore easier to overpower. ‘I mean, she might be a danger to herself or shoot the girls by mistake.’

‘I reckon she’s too sensible for that. I’d sooner trust her with the gun than you two.’ As Thráinn studied them both he seemed to be drawing no distinction between them.

It dawned on Ægir how pathetic they must appear. It was some comfort to think that Halli, constantly licking his lips and shivering, cut no better a figure than he did himself. The captain was right; Lára couldn’t fare any worse than them. ‘Shall I fetch her and the girls?’

‘Yes. We’ll wait here.’ Thráinn pointed to a seat and ordered Halli to sit down. Then he turned the pilot’s chair round to keep him in view. ‘Get a move on. Don’t dawdle.’

On the way to the cabin Ægir wiped his eyes, which were still wet from laughing. He took several deep breaths and hoped he would recover his self-control. It was essential to keep calm while talking to Lára because if he showed the slightest hint of nerves, he would infect the twins, and no doubt her as well, with his anxiety. It was the first time since finding Loftur that he had admitted to himself how he felt. He was not just shaken or alarmed; he was terrified.

Before entering the cabin, he cleared his throat and rubbed his face in the hope of obliterating the marks of fear. Then, smiling weakly, he opened the door. His wife and daughters were awake and sitting up in bed, though still under the duvet. Three identical pairs of eyes stared at him and in each he read that he had failed to conceal his fear. ‘What? What’s the matter?’ Lára flung off the duvet and got out of bed.

‘Nothing. But something’s come up and we need to go to the bridge. It’s nothing to worry about, though. We’re going to search the ship and we want you to wait in the pilot house in the meantime. You too, girls.’ He signalled to Lára that he needed to speak to her alone. ‘Collect up your books and cards, then come along. Your mother and I will be outside in the corridor.’ The girls looked surprised but said nothing.

Lára hurriedly slipped on her shoes and threw a cardigan over her shoulders. ‘You needn’t hurry. We’re happy to wait,’ she said to the girls. She looked anything but happy, however, and as soon as the door swung to behind them, she made her feelings known. ‘Please don’t tell me if something bad has happened. Please, just let me believe that everything’s all right and that we can count the hours till we’re home. Please.’ Her eyes were beseeching and she hugged the cardigan to her as if she could hide inside it.

Ægir felt as if the words were being torn from his throat. He wanted to lie to her and say it had only been an excuse to get her to himself; that if they were quick they could take each other here and now in this overblown burgundy corridor. ‘I really wish I could.’ He told her about Loftur, that it was urgent to find out whether there was an uninvited guest hiding on board, and that while they were searching the boat, she would have to wait alone on the bridge with the girls. He waited for this to sink in before telling her about the gun.

‘Gun? Have you gone out of your mind?’ She slapped him. The blow was not hard or intended to inflict pain but it was the first time physical violence had ever been used between them.

‘Lára!’ Ægir was speechless.

‘What if this stupid search of yours doesn’t reveal anything? Well?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘What am I to do if it’s not you who comes back but Thráinn? Or Halli? Am I supposed to shoot them?’

‘No.’ Ægir hesitated, cursing himself for having told the girls they needn’t hurry.

‘What if Halli claims he became separated from you and wants to come in? Am I supposed to shoot him in front of the girls? Be standing over his bleeding corpse when you and Thráinn come back? Are you all out of your minds?’

‘No.’ Ægir couldn’t meet her eye; couldn’t cope with this. He wished Thráinn was here to convince her and had to restrain himself from tearing open the cabin door and yelling at the girls to get a move on. The captain would make Lára see sense. He took himself in hand. ‘If anything like that happens, you mustn’t let Halli in. And if Thráinn and I don’t reappear soon, you may have to decide what action to take. And if Halli – or Thráinn or this imaginary stowaway – tries to break in, at least you’ll be armed.’ He felt relieved, convinced by his own arguments.

‘But what if Thráinn’s behind all this? Do you really think he’d give me a loaded gun? Do you know the difference between blanks and live ammunition?’ She observed his consternation. ‘I thought not.’

Mercifully, the girls now appeared with their arms full of books and other items that he and Lára had taken down to the cabin when they locked themselves in. They knew something serious was happening and kept quiet. Ægir made a lame joke about their not being short of stuff. They were to go straight up to the bridge and before they knew it they would be captaining the ship and finally things would start going right. Nobody smiled and they made their way in silence up to the pilot house where Thráinn and Halli were waiting. The captain took Lára aside and spoke to her while Ægir showed the girls the yacht’s steering system. He kept glancing over to see what was passing between his wife and the captain, and gulped when he saw Lára receive with trembling hands a parcel which must be the revolver, wrapped in a grey cloth. She stuck it clumsily into her waistband and pulled her top over it with a pained expression. Ægir turned away at once and made some meaningless remark to the girls.

‘Is the ship sinking, Daddy?’ Bylgja put her head on one side as was her habit when she wasn’t wearing her glasses. She was carrying them in her hand in case she wanted to read.

‘No.’ It came out more sharply than Ægir had intended, but the anger in his voice was directed at himself, not her. ‘Good heavens, no. There’s nothing wrong, everything’s going to be fine.’ He was saying the words Lára had wanted to hear.

‘Will we drown if the yacht sinks?’ Evidently he had failed to convince his daughter.

‘She’s not going to sink and even if she did, no one would drown. Do you remember the lifeboats?’ They both nodded doubtfully. ‘Ships carry lifeboats so that no one will drown even if they do go down. But this yacht is unsinkable, so there’s no need to worry.’

‘Then why does it carry lifeboats?’ Arna interjected, without sarcasm. It was an entirely logical question that demanded an answer.

‘Because it’s obligatory, sweetheart. All boats and ships have to carry lifeboats. It’s the law.’

‘How silly.’ Arna ran her finger over the radar screen. Ægir was glad he hadn’t told them what it showed; it was such a stark reminder of their isolation. If they needed help, it appeared there was none to be found nearby.

‘You know what they say, darling: better safe than sorry.’ He noticed that Thráinn was signalling to him. Lára stood a little way off, avoiding his eye. There was a conspicuous bulge at her slender waist. ‘Better safe than sorry.’

‘I swear I didn’t lay a finger on Loftur. Why would I have asked you where he was if I’d just killed him?’ No doubt the question had sounded sensible when Halli formed it in his head but spoken aloud, it was meaningless. Now that it looked as if they were going to come up empty-handed, the young man seemed on the brink of despair. The three of them were down in the engine room, having scoured the other two levels without finding any trace of a stowaway. They had given Halli’s cabin, which adjoined the engine room, a thorough going-over, as well as the small workshop next door. ‘Perhaps the murderer has moved while we’ve been searching.’ Halli was breathing rapidly. ‘I didn’t go anywhere near Loftur. I swear it.’