Dark Waters: The addictive psychological thriller you won’t be able to put down. Mary-Jane Riley
you’re all right, Mickey, Alex wants to take a look around a boat because—’
‘I might want to hire one out with a couple of girlfriends sometime,’ she interrupted smoothly. She wanted Mickey to show her around not thinking of her as a journalist but as an ordinary punter.
‘Yeah. Course.’ Colin nodded vigorously. ‘That’s right. Can you do the honours, Mickey? And Mickey,’ he pointed at him, ‘tell the lady anything she wants to know, okay?’
‘Sure. Come on. This way.’
‘She wants to see Firefly Sister, I think, lad. Four berths, isn’t that right?’
‘Yes,’ said Alex, thrusting a business card into Colin’s hand before hurrying after Mickey. ‘Give us a call if you think of anything else,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘And thanks, Colin. For everything.’
‘Anytime. You know where I am.’ He gave the inevitable wink again.
Four white and gleaming boats were moored side by side along the river. They stopped by the second one along.
‘This one here is Firefly Sister. If you want to hop aboard?’
Alex didn’t think ‘hop’ was quite the right word. She’d never been one for boats, and despite living near the Broads for most of her life, had never sailed on one. She stepped gingerly onto the cruiser and peered through the open doors into the cabin.
‘This is the rear cabin, with one double and a single,’ said Mickey. ‘Go on through.’
Bending her head, Alex stepped inside the cabin.
The double bed looked comfortable enough, with its flowery duvet cover, white pillows, and neatly folded towels on the end. A mirror was fixed to the wall of a cupboard. The single bed was shaped like a coffin, and the bottom half of it disappeared underneath a cupboard. She didn’t fancy sleeping in that bed. There was a small chest of drawers.
‘If you go through, you’ll find the galley and the toilet and shower as well.’
She saw the small bathroom on her right, then a compact kitchen, another single bed, and the steering wheel. The whole boat did feel light and airy. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘I didn’t realize there would be an ordinary steering wheel. And inside, too.’
‘It’s called the helm.’ Mickey sounded bored.
‘Right. Helm.’
She stood for a minute, thinking about Derek Daley and Roger Fleet coming on board a boat just like this a few short days ago. Who had the double bed? Which of them was consigned to the coffin bed? Or, more likely, the single bed in the living area. Did they have a cup of tea or any food before they died? What were they thinking about on that short trip up the river to Dillingham Broad and then to Poppy Island?
‘Is this like the boat where they – you know?’
Mickey frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
She relaxed her shoulders, wanting to sound casual. She stooped, peering through the window onto the towpath. ‘I heard they found a couple of dead people on a boat today. Was it a boat like this?’
A short silence.
‘What do you want to know for?’
Alex jumped, his breath was in her ear, his body close to hers, the smell of oil and the outdoors swirling around her. She turned around slowly, and he took a step back.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘I mean, it’s a funny thing to ask about, if you’re thinking of having a boating holiday yourself.’
‘I just heard about it and—’
Mickey stepped away from her and leaned against the worktop, crossing his arms. ‘Well, yes, it was a boat just like this. One on the double bed, the other on the single. I heard that Mr Harper is going to have to get new mattresses because they were soaked through with bodily fluids and slime and stuff. It was the warm weather and the flies. The stench was overpowering, I heard. A couple of the coppers threw up. Is that the sort of thing you wanted to know?’ He wasn’t smiling now.
‘Er—’ Alex didn’t know what to say.
‘So. Who are you? You’re not really wanting to hire a boat, are you? But you don’t strike me as a rubbernecker, either.’
So much for being an ordinary punter. She lifted her hands in surrender. ‘Busted,’ she said, lightly, wanting to get him back onside. ‘I’m a journalist.’
Mickey raised an eyebrow. ‘We’re not supposed to talk to any journalists.’
‘I appreciate that, Mickey, but Colin—’
‘Colin, is it? You want to watch him.’
‘I know what you mean.’ God, this was becoming more and more awkward. ‘But he’s been helpful. Seems to think you might be, too.’
‘Give him cash, did you?’
Alex looked at Mickey. She had no more readies to give him.
He shrugged, pushed himself away from the little kitchen worktop. ‘What the hell. What else do you want to know?’
‘These boats don’t have barbecues on board as a matter of course?’
‘No, though people do bring them. I mean, we have all the mod cons like you see – fridge, cooker, hob, but on balmy days people like to cook outside, don’t they? Can be dangerous if you take them inside before they’re fully burnt out. Or at all, really, because you can never tell.’
‘And I gather that’s what seems to have happened here.’
Mickey stared at her. ‘Fumes? From the barbecue?’
‘That’s one theory.’ She sat down on the bench running alongside the table. It was pretty comfortable. ‘What were they like?’
‘The two guys?’
‘Yes. I mean, did they seem like really good friends? Did they talk to each other when you were showing them the boat? Were they nervous?’
Mickey hesitated. ‘How much should I be telling you? Only, I don’t want to lose my job. Good money for doing eff all really, just showing people who should know better how to behave on one of these boats and how to respect the water.’
‘Where are you from?’ Alex was curious to know what a man like Mickey was doing in Suffolk. He had a distinctive accent.
‘London. Lost my job.’ He shrugged. ‘Gambling. House went, and my family. Drifted around, came up this way, you know, for a bit of sea air, and found Colin one day. He was looking for someone to help him over the summer; I used to do some sailing and engineering and stuff in a former life, so he hired me. There might be some winter work, too. In the office as well as showing people the boats. If I stay here that long.’
‘You might move on?’
‘Maybe. Depends what happens. You know.’
‘You won’t lose your job because of me. You heard Colin – you can talk to me.’
‘Trust me I’m a journalist?’
Alex couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Something like that, yes.’
‘I wouldn’t want it to get out that I’d been talking to you, though. I’ve started to get together a good life here. I’ve got some mates. I feel as though I’m starting to turn things around.’
‘There won’t be any comeback on you, I promise. I’m not like that. Really,’ she emphasized, seeing his look of scepticism. ‘I know you’ve got to live round here. I’m fairly local too, so it’s not going to help anyone if I get their backs up, is it?’
‘Maybe.’ He still seemed wary.
‘So? The two