Дэвид Уоллес - Island of Fog and Death

Arwensmouth had a tiny police station, normally manned only during the tourist season, but it was hosting the official police investigation into Chen’s death. It was down by the little harbour, and difficult to miss with a marked police car sitting outside. She walked into a tiny, empty reception area. Seeing no-one behind the counter she simply shouted, “Shop!” at the top of her voice. After a minute or so, she heard a toilet flush, and a uniformed constable emerged from a door to her left.

“Good morning, madam,” he said. “How may I be of assistance?”

“Morning,” she answered. “I’m Peri Carlton, from the UN. I wanted to talk to the lead investigator about my colleague, Mr Chen.”

“Ah, Mr Chen, is it. Well, madam, may I offer condolences over your loss.”

“Thank you.”

“And I regret to say that my colleagues are over the water at the moment,” he said with a gesture in the direction of Anifail.

“Do you know when they are expected back?”

“Ah.” He scratched his right ear. “Truth to tell, no, I’m not sure. They went over first thing, see, just to clear up the scene, and I did think they’d be back before slack water. But they’re still over there.”

“They’re clearing up? Have they finished, then?”

“Pretty much, madam. We picked up all the forensics we could at the scene, and the circumstances look clear cut, see. We’re due back in Colwyn today.”

“Can you tell me what conclusions you’ve come to?”

Again, he scratched his ear. “Well, I’m not sure. You’re from the UN, you said. Well, Mr Chen being Chinese, see, we’ve been asked to keep it between us, and London, and that’s all.” He screwed up his face in thought. “But I don’t see that it’ll do any harm, like, you being a colleague.

“We searched the river banks and the seashore both ways, and all round the island. We identified the spot where he went into the water, see. He dropped down the cliff, and when the tide came in it floated him off and round to where we found him. His rucksack was on the cliff path on the island, and a climbing rope was tied off to the fence right by it. The evidence says he went down the cliff, like, and fell off.”

“He was alone?”

“No other fresh footprints but his by the cliff edge. The rest is up to the Coroner, but we reckon it was an accident. I mean, it wasn’t deliberate. Not suicide.”

“Yes, I see, if he intended suicide, why go down part way on a rope, I suppose.”

“That’s right, madam.”

Peri, nodded and was about to turn away, when a thought struck her. “I understand there was a climbing accident a few weeks ago?” she asked.

The constable nodded back. “That is true, madam. Happily, there was just one minor injury, a young lady who had been climbing the cliff.”

“What happened?”

“The cliff face just crumbled away and fell off,” he answered, and looked thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking Mr Chen was looking at where the cliff broke away. It’s possible the same thing happened to him, you see, the cliff crumbled and he lost his hold.”

“Thank you, officer. That’s very helpful. Well, I suppose I’ll probably see your colleagues on the island when I get over there.”

“Indeed, madam. Take care now.”

Though only fifteen minutes had elapsed, she saw that Steve and Troy were waiting by the ferry ramp.

“Did you get what you wanted from the police?” asked Steve.

“Yes, there was a constable in there, and he brought me up to date.” Peri quickly summarised the conversation. She saw both men were frowning. “What’s up?”

Steve gestured toward the island. “We’ve seen no signs of people moving over there. That’s odd, I think. And I’m a little concerned that the cops crossed over at the crack of dawn and didn’t come back when their man expected them.”

“Hm. Well, we need to keep an eye out for them. Did you pick up your things?” She mimed a pistol shot.

“Yep. We brought along my good friends, Mr Sig and Mr Sauer.” He held his jacket open to let her see the butt of a small pistol.

“Hm. Tiny. Sure it isn’t Sweet and Sauer? Looks like a toy to me,” she said, and looking at Troy, she asked, “Is yours that small as well?”

“I’ve never had a complaint,” said Steve.

“It’s not the size that matters,” contributed Troy.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lost count of the number of times a guy has told me size doesn’t matter,” Peri grinned. “Usually when they’re trying to convince themselves of… something.” She nodded towards the ferry. “Shall we board?”

They walked up the ramp and onto the ferry. A man was leaning into the little cabin at the front of the boat, talking to someone inside. He looked round when he heard their footsteps. “Morning!” he called out.

“Morning,” Peri answered. “Three of us to cross over. How much will that be?”

The man shook he head, and said, “No charge for pedestrians, my dear. Only vehicles.” He gave a box labelled ‘Tips’ a significant look.

“Really? Oh, thanks very much,” replied Peri. “How does the ferry stay in business if there’s no charge? There can’t be a lot of road traffic going over there.”

“Council subsidies,” he explained. “The running costs aren’t much, see, and it’s cheaper than putting in a bridge. We’ll be off in a minute.” He leaned into the cabin. “If you’ll permit, Gus, I’ll need in there now.”

“Of course, Bill,” was the reply, and the white-bearded old man she had seen having breakfast stepped out, with his very large dog at his heels. He smiled at Peri and her companions. “Good morning, folks,” he called out. “I’m Gus. Nice to meet you.”

“Peri,” she replied automatically, her eyes fixed on those of the dog, which was staring at her intently, almost hypnotically. Then she shook her head and glanced to one side, lowering her voice. “Steve, is it a good idea to have civilians crossing over?”

“Not until we’ve looked the place over,” he replied. “But do you have the authority to stop him? Because we don’t.”

Meantime, Bill had released the chains that secured the ferry, and was making his way back to the cabin.

A voice called out, “Wait! Wait, please!”

Peri looked round at the loading ramp. She saw a red-haired woman running for the ferry She was about Peri’s own height, wearing a white knee-length top over a white tee-shirt, and dark slacks. She was out of breath and a little red in the face, having run from the parking area.

Bill flipped a chain over a bollard with the expertise of long practice. “Step aboard, my dear, you’ve just made it.” He held out a hand and helped the woman as she jumped aboard.

“Thank you,” she said, breathlessly, and slumped against the railing around the ferry’s deck. She looked around, and saw the other passengers. “Sorry if I’m holding you up. I can’t make head nor tail of the timetable, so I’ve no idea when I’d get across if I missed this sailing.”

“It is no problem at all,” said Gus. He looked round at the others. “That’s right, isn’t it? None of us is that much of a hurry?”

Peri frowned, and murmured, “Another civilian. What do we do, Steve?”

“We can try to keep her with us, just in case,” he murmured back.

Meantime, Gus was saying, “I am Gus, by the way, and my friend here , he is Tash.” He patted the dog.

The woman smiled. “I’m Amanda. Amanda Booker-Smart. Your dog’s name sounds a little, er, feminine for a boy dog. May I pet him?”

Gus grinned at her. “Of course, my dear lady, of course. He won’t bite you .” In a stage whisper, he added, “Just don’t let him know you think his name is a little bit girlie . He doesn’t realise it, you see.”