The Silence of the Sea

Chapter 20

Mother and daughters were deep in slumber in the big double bed. They lay cuddled up together, their hair mingling on the pillows so that Ægir couldn’t tell their locks apart. Their cheeks were flushed, not from fever but almost certainly because someone had finally turned up the heating to compensate for the onset of chillier weather. Ægir had no idea who had done so and, to be honest, he didn’t really care. Beside him lay his family, the only thing that mattered. Arna murmured but he couldn’t distinguish the words. Her eyes were quivering under their pale lids and her legs twitched. Then all was quiet again. He hoped she wasn’t having a nightmare. He and Lára had done their best to behave as if nothing was wrong, masking their fear and apprehension, but perhaps their manner had seemed too forced. Neither could bear the thought that the girls might sense the sudden seriousness of their situation. At least not yet. Soon, though, they would be forced to tell them exactly what was going on, to ensure the girls never left their side.

Ægir listened to the sound of footsteps overhead. He stared up at the ceiling as if he expected the man to start sawing through it at any minute, showering them with plaster. Although the cabin door was locked, the security it provided was illusory as a full-grown man could easily force his way in. Besides, they must keep a master key somewhere safe; perhaps on the bridge. If the man wanted to get in, he wouldn’t need to break the door down. But Ægir was not worried about this eventuality; he didn’t believe the man had the slightest interest in them – for the moment.

More than seven hours had passed since he had dragged Lára and the girls down to the cabin where they had locked themselves in. In all that time no one had so much as knocked on the door or called out, as if the crew had forgotten their existence. Which suited them fine. Even though it would mean going hungry, Ægir was almost prepared to lie low in their cabin until they reached port. The water in the bathroom taps would be sufficient for him, but he was less sure about the girls; they probably wouldn’t be willing to go without food for days on end. Besides, he would have to put in an appearance at some point, not to appease his daughters’ complaints so much as to prevent the crew from wondering what was up. If they did, someone was bound to put two and two together and conclude that the family knew more than they were letting on. It would be pathetically easy for that person to finish them off here in the cabin, especially when they were defenceless in sleep.

The footsteps ceased and Ægir felt the adrenaline start to course through his veins. When the man stood still it was even worse than when he was pacing. It suggested that he was plotting. Ægir knew the idea was ludicrous but that didn’t change how he felt. He even held his breath while he waited for the man to start moving again. Nothing happened. Then there was a scraping sound from what he took to be a chair or sofa, and he tried to work out which room was directly overhead. Most likely the saloon, which suggested that there were two men up and about, one on the bridge, the other busy with something in the saloon. Ægir sat up and pushed the duvet aside gently so as not to wake his wife and daughters. It might make sense to go out and talk to the men; then the family wouldn’t have to show their faces again until lunchtime tomorrow. Their absence must appear as natural as possible; for example, he could go up at regular intervals to complain that the girls were seasick. That way he would be able to fetch the necessities – as long as he disciplined himself to appear relaxed, as if nothing had happened, as if it hadn’t occurred to them that one of the men must be linked to the dead woman in the freezer. Although such naivety would seem pretty far-fetched in the light of recent events, it would have to suffice. If he betrayed the slightest fear, there was a danger he would do or say something with irreversible consequences.

He climbed out of bed and balanced for a moment to accustom himself to the motion. About an hour after they had locked themselves in, the engines had abruptly kicked into life again. Perhaps the crew had managed to free the yacht from the container, or the captain had simply decided to chance it before the situation on board deteriorated even further. There was no question now of hanging around in the middle of nowhere, waiting for rescue: with their communications system crippled, they couldn’t even send out a distress signal, and it was so long since they had seen another ship that Ægir believed, admittedly without good grounds, that they might wait there for weeks without being spotted. Then he remembered the emergency button Thráinn had shown him, which was designed to transmit an SOS with their location. Thanks to that, their fate was unlikely to consist of drifting over the ocean for the rest of their days. Perhaps he should simply go up to the bridge and activate the button right now, and take the gamble that the foreign crew who responded to their call would believe him. But supposing they weren’t convinced and refused to take the family on board? In that case it would be better not to chance it. If things got any worse, at least there was security in knowing the button was there.

Ægir scribbled a quick note to Lára, explaining where he was going and stressing that neither she nor the girls should come looking for him. Then he slipped on his shoes and quietly left the cabin. As he was closing the door, he wondered if he ought to wake his wife. She and the girls had been sleeping for over two hours and might find it hard to drop off tonight if they slept for much longer now. Their eyelids had begun to droop during the second film and Ægir alone had managed to stay awake. He would have liked to have followed suit but felt compelled to stay on guard in case one of the crew tried to enter the cabin. How he was to make it through the night was another matter; clearly, he couldn’t stay awake for days on end and even if he did, he would be of little use exhausted if it came to a fight. Lára would have to share the watches with him, so it would be better to allow her some more sleep now. The incident with Karítas’s perfume bottle had shaken her badly. When she had gone to fetch it in order to convince him that the smell was the same as the one in the freezer, the bottle had gone. What’s more, it was nowhere to be found in their cabin or bathroom, and Lára had started imagining all kinds of conspiracies. Ægir, on the other hand, had signally failed to work up any concern. He had other, more pressing matters on his mind than missing perfume bottles. As he closed the door, he took care not to click the lock too loudly.

On his way upstairs he found himself keenly aware of every step. Until now his body had moved about the ship on autopilot, but now he sensed the gleaming wood under his soles and was acutely conscious of lifting his feet. For the first time he noticed the handrail, cold and hard under his palm. The sounds that carried from above also seemed more distinct than before, though none were particularly loud or penetrating: a squeak, a low humming which, though his ears had not picked it up until now, had no doubt been there since the beginning of the voyage; the scraping of a chair. This sudden hypersensitivity must result from a primitive urge to protect his family, for he quickly realised that his taut nerves were not for himself; all that mattered now was to bring his wife and daughters safely home. The realisation gave him courage and he walked up the stairs full of a new self-confidence. The man who was not afraid for himself had a definite advantage.

He decided to check the pilot house first. There he would at least learn what progress they were making and what the weather forecast had in store. Despite hoping fervently that the crew would have found some means of repairing the telecommunications system, he knew this was unlikely. It was a safe bet that whoever had thrown the body overboard had also sabotaged the equipment. It would have been too great a coincidence otherwise. And that was a bad sign. How was the perpetrator intending to enforce their silence after they reached land? There was only one sure method that Ægir could think of.

Thráinn turned out to be alone on the bridge. He sat in the pilot’s chair, staring into space as if in a trance. Ægir had to cough to attract his attention. The older man looked round, his eyes bloodshot. There was no sign that he had gone for a rest after lunch, which meant that he must have been awake for thirty-six hours straight. ‘Hello. I’d begun to think you lot weren’t going to show your faces again.’ Thráinn stretched and rubbed his jaw as if to loosen it up for conversation.

‘Lára and the girls are a bit under the weather. Seasick again.’

‘Right.’ Thráinn was not deceived. ‘Let’s hope they feel better soon.’

Ægir saw there was no point in trying to convince him; he would believe whatever he wanted to. ‘Yes, let’s hope so. I was just fetching them some Coke and a bite to eat in case they get their appetites back, so I decided to look in and see how it’s going. Find out if there’s any good news for a change.’

Thráinn grunted. ‘Good news.’ He shook his head slowly, suppressing a yawn. ‘As you’ve no doubt noticed, we’re under way again – that should count as good news.’

‘Yes. I realised. What happened?’

‘The container sank. Presumably because you loosened the door. It must have shaken open with the movement, letting the air escape. So you fixed it. Bravo.’ From the taciturn Thráinn, this was high praise. ‘Anyway, the main thing isn’t how it happened but the fact that we’re on our way home. I’m going to push her faster than I have up to now, since it’s vital we get to port as soon as possible.’

Ægir opened his mouth to ask if he was referring to the discovery of the body and its subsequent disappearance, but the answer was glaringly obvious. ‘How far have we got left?’

Thráinn reached for the chart and showed him their most recent position. Iceland was further away than Ægir had hoped; in fact they were more or less equidistant from all the nearest landmasses, which meant they would have nothing to gain by heading anywhere but home. ‘All being well, we’re about forty-eight hours from home.’ Thráinn put down the chart. ‘All being well.’ He regarded Ægir levelly. ‘Actually, I’m glad you came up. I was thinking of looking in on you. We need to have a chat.’

‘Oh?’ The yacht plunged sickeningly and Ægir gripped the handle on the wall.

When the captain finally released Ægir’s gaze, he turned back to stare at the black expanse of glass that extended the width of the bridge. ‘As you’re aware, we’re in a serious situation. There’s something very strange going on and, as matters stand, I can’t trust Halli or Loftur.’

‘So?’ Ægir hoped Thráinn wasn’t going to propose they join forces to overpower the other men and lock them up. He had no way of determining which of the three crew members was guilty. What on earth would he do if there were only the two of them left and it turned out to be Thráinn? Tackle him with Lára’s help? Hardly.

‘I haven’t a clue who moved the body and chucked it overboard – Halli, Loftur, your wife? The girls?’ He silenced Ægir’s protests with a wave of his hand. ‘All I know for sure is that it wasn’t me and it wasn’t you. I didn’t leave the rail the entire time you were underwater, but Halli did, and so did Loftur, who had come to watch. I know nothing about your wife, though I admit it’s far less likely that she was responsible than one of the boys, if only because your daughters seem to follow her everywhere. And they can hardly have done it.’

Ægir chose not to mention that the twins had gone below at around the time the body ended up in the sea. If the captain was planning to take action, the last thing he wanted was to cast suspicion on Lára. He knew it was crazy to imagine she could be involved but his gut instinct was unlikely to satisfy Thráinn. ‘Were Halli and Loftur away long enough to have done it?’

‘Well, Loftur wasn’t around to begin with, so he would have had the opportunity then. And Halli went off for a while but I didn’t take any notice because there was no reason to. If you’d told us straight away that you’d come face to face with the dead woman in the sea, I’d have taken a different view of his absence.’

‘I’ve told you already – I thought I was seeing things.’

‘All right, I know I shouldn’t be bawling you out; I’m just tired. So tired I can’t be bothered to be polite.’ He spoke as if manners were usually his strong point. ‘Never mind that. What I’m trying to say is that I know you can’t be involved because you were diving, so you’re the only person apart from myself that I can trust. Since I can’t stay awake for the next forty-eight hours, I wanted to see if I could persuade you to help me get this ship to port. All you’d have to do is stand watch while I bunk down in here – you could give me a nudge if there were any problems.’

‘I see.’ Relieved as he was that the request had not involved tackling the other two men, Ægir was still uneasy. ‘What about Lára and the girls? Where are they supposed to be in the meantime? I’m not prepared to leave them alone while I stand here gawping out of the window.’

‘No. Fair enough.’ The captain scratched his stubble and yawned again without even trying to suppress it. ‘They could stay in here with us. The mattress is in the back room, so I wouldn’t be in your way.’ He gestured to a door behind him. ‘It may be cramped but there’s no need for them to be uncomfortable. We could easily move a small table and chairs in here.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Ægir surveyed the pilot house. ‘Still, I don’t know.’

‘Well, don’t waste too much time thinking about it. I need a rest and if you’re not manning the bridge, whoever disposed of the body is bound to do it. I don’t know about you but I’m not too thrilled with that prospect.’

Ægir lost his temper. ‘And what about you? How can I be sure you’re innocent? You could have done it yourself for all I know – I couldn’t see if you were at the rail while I was underwater. And what then? If I help you, I’d be siding against the others who may well be innocent. I’d rather stay out of this; concentrate on keeping my family safe and leave you lot to sort it out among yourselves.’

‘I’m afraid that’s out of the question. If you barricade yourselves in your cabin, the next time you come out there may be one less person. Then two less. Where will you stand then? And your wife and daughters? I’m not sure you’d enjoy that.’ The captain’s expression, which had hardened at these words, mellowed again and the signs of fatigue returned. ‘As captain I could of course order you to keep watch – I assume you realise that? But I expect I’d be more successful if I managed to convince you without resorting to threats.’ Thráinn smiled faintly. ‘Though don’t think I’ll hesitate to use force if pushed.’

The sailing course hadn’t covered the captain’s remit in any detail, so Ægir had no idea what the consequences of disobeying his orders might be. ‘And if I still won’t obey? Will I be made to walk the plank?’

‘No. Nothing that dramatic. I’ll simply tell Halli and Loftur to lock you up. And I don’t mean in the cabin with your family. Your wife and daughters would be free to come and go. And as you know, the company on board is not exactly desirable. This is no joke, my friend.’

Ægir was afraid to speak for fear he would hurl a storm of abuse at the captain and find himself under lock and key as a result. In other words, the captain was saying, either he helped him or they would separate him from Lára and the girls. If the man didn’t get his own way he was actually prepared to expose them to danger. Ægir’s rage subsided. For Thráinn this was only a means to an important end: to make it home safe and sound. ‘I’ll help.’ He didn’t smile or give any other sign that he approved of the plan. ‘I’d better fetch Lára and the girls. They’re asleep below. You’ll have to stay awake in the meantime.’

‘No problem.’ Thráinn made no more effort than Ægir to restore the fragile rapport that had recently been established between them. ‘I’ve stayed awake longer than this in my time.’

Before Ægir could respond, the door opened and Halli appeared in the gap. Neither Thráinn nor Ægir spoke and at first the young man did not seem to sense that anything was amiss. Then he picked up on the atmosphere and his face reddened, either from embarrassment or anger. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was asking Ægir to take over for a while. I need some kip and I reckon you do too.’ Thráinn looked straight at Halli and Ægir couldn’t help admiring his seemingly indomitable spirit. He betrayed no sign of awkwardness or nerves when it came to informing one of his subordinates that he was out in the cold.

‘I see.’ Halli’s red face clashed badly with his dyed hair. He jutted his chin. ‘If you think I had anything to do with it you’re mistaken. Badly mistaken.’

‘No one knows anything for sure, so there’s no point discussing it. Everyone will simply have to obey my orders for the next couple of days; that way we’ll make it home safe and sound. I assume we’re all agreed that that’s our goal?’ said Thráinn.

Halli clenched his teeth, his jaws whitening. ‘Of course.’ Then relaxing slightly, he looked puzzled. ‘Where’s Loftur?’

‘Loftur?’ Thráinn repeated wearily. ‘As you can see, he’s not here. Last time I saw him he was going to fire up the hot tub. I expect that’s where he is now.’

‘Oh?’ Halli dithered in the doorway, unsure whether to stay or go. ‘From what I could see the tub still had its cover on. And he’s not below.’

‘Could he be in the saloon?’ Ægir’s words came out in a rush as they tended to in fraught situations. ‘I heard someone there earlier.’

Halli shook his head. ‘That was me. He hasn’t been in. I checked his cabin but he wasn’t there either.’ He licked his lips repeatedly. ‘Perhaps we missed each other. Or he’s out on deck.’

‘What the hell would he be doing out there?’ Thráinn rose from his chair. Going over to the console, he fiddled for a moment with his back to the two men. Careful not to meet Halli’s eye, Ægir feigned interest in the captain’s back. Thráinn turned again, having finished whatever he was doing. ‘We’d better look for him.’ He glanced at each of them in turn. ‘We’ll stick together.’

Neither objected. In silence they followed the captain out of the pilot house, their clumsy movements betraying the lack of trust between the members of their little party. It did nothing to lessen their paranoia when they finally found Loftur: submerged, fully dressed, under the closed lid of the Jacuzzi.