I took the little white tickets. Frowned. ‘What about the other cabin?’
‘Other cabin?’ He went back to the hidden keyboard. ‘Nope: just the one, and we’re fully booked. Are you two not …’ He tilted his head to one side.
‘Oh for … Perfect.’ Sod it. Too tired and sore to care. ‘Thanks.’
I slumped along the corridor to the left of the reception desk, found cabin 16A and slid the paper ticket into the hotel-style lock.
The door opened on a small beige cabin with two single beds facing each other; a walled-off section – that would be the toilet – a space for hanging coats; somewhere to make tea and coffee; and a porthole. The lights of Aberdeen harbour slid past, massive orange supply boats, mud tanks, cranes, pipes, containers.
I dumped my wheelie case in the middle of the little room and collapsed onto one of the bunks. Groaned. And then my phone rang. ‘Go away.’
It went through to voicemail.
Everything. Hurt.
I lay on my back staring up at the ceiling tiles. Get up and take a pill … Sod that, it meant moving. I pulled out the phone, ignored the ‘missed call’ icon, and picked a number from the address book instead.
It was answered on the fifth ring. ‘DI Morrow.’ Shifty Dave’s voice was barely audible over the sounds of a crowded pub.
‘Thought you guys had a murder enquiry to run?’
Pause. ‘Ash …’
‘I need a favour.’
Nothing but the burble of bandits and general pub hubbub. Then a clunk, and a sort of roaring whoosh. Drunken singing. A car horn. ‘Look … about last night with Andrew, I—’
‘Does Charlie know?’
‘Of course Charlie doesn’t know! What am I supposed to tell her, “Hey, darling, how was your day? Oh, by the way, I’m a big poof now; what’s for dinner?” How’s that going to go down?’
Like a bouncer in an alleyway. ‘So don’t tell her.’
‘You can’t say anything, OK? If this gets out I’m—’
‘Oh, like I give a toss. My big brother Brett’s getting married next month, to an electrical engineer called Gareth.’ I closed my eyes, ran a hand across them, trying to scrub away the headache. ‘Now shut up – I need a favour.’
‘You’re not going to tell anyone?’
‘I need you to go round to my place and … tidy up a little.’
A pause. On the other end of the phone someone was singing in the background, an ambulance siren getting closer. ‘Why? What did you do?’
‘Had an uninvited visitor.’
‘I see.’ A deep breath. ‘Is he …?’
‘No. He wasn’t looking very well when I left, but he’ll live.’ And they could probably save his leg.
A long, hissing sigh. ‘OK, OK, I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Thanks, Dave.’
‘And you promise you won’t tell anyone?’
‘Bye, Dave.’ I hung up. According to the phone’s screen there were another two missed calls waiting for me. Well they could go on waiting.
The cabin rocked from left to right. Must be leaving the harbour, giving up its protective arms for the North Sea’s cold embrace. Then the room started going forward and backwards as well. Pitch and yaw getting stronger the further out we got, the ship’s engines getting deeper.
Kind of comforting …
I closed my eyes. Let it wash over me. Yawned.
Could drift off for a—
Three loud knocks at the door. ‘Hello? Ash? Constable Henderson? Hello? It’s me, Alice …’ Dr McDonald. Wonderful. ‘Hello? Are you in there?’
I gritted my teeth, rolled off the bunk up to my feet, and stood there like a dose of brewer’s droop – back bent, arms dangling.
‘Hello?’ Knock, knock, knock.
I opened the door.
She was standing in the narrow corridor, both arms wrapped around herself, eyes darting from side to side. ‘They said there’s been a mistake with the cabins, the team admin officer only booked the one, and the other cabins are all full, and obviously we can’t share a cabin. It wouldn’t be right: we work together, and you’re a man and I’m a woman and what if something happened, it wouldn’t—’
‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ I slouched back to the rumpled bunk and collapsed face-down onto it. ‘Ow …’ It was like being battered all over again.
‘But we can’t share a cabin it’s ridiculous, I mean it’s—’
‘Trust me,’ words muffled by the pillow, ‘you’re not that irresistible.’
There was a pause, then the creak of someone sitting on the other bed. ‘Can’t you sleep somewhere else?’
‘I think I might be able to control my sexual ardour if … buggering hell.’ Bloody phone was ringing again. I fumbled it out, stuck it against my ear. ‘What?’
An Irish accent, female, clipped. ‘Officer Henderson, have yez forgotten yer manners along with everythin’ else?’
‘Mrs Kerrigan.’ As if today couldn’t have got any worse.
‘They’ve got these seats upstairs you can recline almost all the way, I’m sure they’re comfortable, you could get one of those—’
‘I’ve got a message for yez, Officer Henderson—’
‘Oh, I got your bloody message all right. Well, you know what: I know where you live too.’
‘—and you can probably hire one for a couple of pounds—’
‘Yez’ve got a hard neck, talkin’ to me like—’
‘You tried to have me crippled! You really think I’m going to let that go?’
‘—I can’t sleep in the open, surrounded by strange people, anything could happen, I mean I couldn’t sleep at all, it would be—’
‘Where’s our money, Officer Henderson? We had a deal.’
‘You should’ve thought of that before you sent “Mr Pain” to my house.’ My knuckles ached, the phone’s casing creaked in my fist. ‘Deal’s off. I so much as
