Retribution - A Dish served Cold

Chapter Thirty-Eight

With years of practice, Captain Evans descended a steel ladder onto his harbour launch. Safely on board, he held the craft steady as Malin and his sergeant followed. Once on the deck, he handed over two lifejackets. "You have to wear these. It's regulations. Sit in the stern, and please keep out of my way while we leave the harbour.

Maintaining slow ahead, the medium-sized launch past the moored vessels. The water had been calm in the harbour, but the instant they left the protection of the two long curved stone jetties and entered the open water, the bow rose, dipped and sprayed cold water over the cabin windows.

The powerful engines powered the twin propellers as the hull crested each wave easily. Andy turned the craft and pointed the bows towards the land clear of the harbour entrance. "Chief Inspector, what do you see?"

Malin stood and staggered towards the steering position and stared ahead. "The stone harbour walls with a gap in the middle."

"Exactly, but when the tide floods, it's east going and west going when it ebbs. We are not far from the Dover Calais pinch point, so the tidal stream in the channel can be five to six knots at maximum ebb or flow."

"Are you telling me the speed of the tide was up six knots the other night?"

"If you had let me finish, you might understand. "Our harbour is in a bay, and the effect of the ebb or flow is not as you would expect. In the bay, the water moves in a circular direction; at slack water, hardly any current exists."

Malin appeared lost. "Captain, what are you trying to tell me."

A broad grin spread across his face. "When do they estimate the victims entered the water?"

"According to the Senior Pathologist," said Malin. "They drowned between midnight and two in the morning."

"At two o'clock, the flood tide had an hour to run before slack water. Inspector, your victims entered the sea close to the harbour mouth, and the flood tide swept them into the hanging nets."

"Malin leant against the control panel. "How certain your calculations are correct."

"Chief Inspector, I'm the harbour master. I believe I know what I'm telling you. "You can always get a second opinion."

"Sorry," said Malin. "I accept what you tell me, but that implies someone drove along the quay and dumped those bodies into the sea. That doesn't make sense. They drowned in freshwater. Why didn't whoever leave them to rot elsewhere."

"Inspector, have you noticed anything?"

Intrigued, Malin eyeballed the scene. "Apart from my sergeant turning a shade of grey. You've lost me. What am I supposed to see?"

"Since I put the engines to idle, we haven't moved."

"Malin shrugged. "And that tells us what?"

"Over the starboard side, please, sergeant. That way, the deck stays clean."

The sergeant leaned on the gunwale and vomited his lunch into the sea. He remained where he was, head down and retching.

Captain Evans checked the time, 1500 hours.

The sergeant, his face ghostly white face, asked. "What's that at the end of the nearest jetty? You can see it in the trough of a wave."

"That's the top hinge to a groundwater drain. Constructed over a hundred years ago. Later, town councils built over it to form the jetty. As far as I'm aware, it's redundant."