If he is a seafarer, then it is a possibility, is it not?’
Alex could not deny it. ‘I sense he is alive,’ he said abruptly.
‘Why, if you have not seen him? Would you have expected to have seen him during the time that has passed since you last did so?’
‘In the circumstances, no.’
‘What circumstances are these?’
He gave her an exasperated look. ‘It is I who ask the questions.’
‘I have already answered several of yours,’ she said.
‘Then answer me this one,’ said Alex. ‘Give me the name of your stepbrother in London.’
She sighed. ‘I cannot understand your interest if you are but a travelling jack of all trades. I deem, Master Nilsson, that you are not being honest with me.’
‘I admit it, but I still want an answer to my question,’ he said in a steely voice.
‘Can’t it wait until we reach London?’
‘No! I have much to do when I arrive there,’ he said, hanging on to his patience.
‘Then if I must, I must. I just pray to our Lady and all the saints that I can trust you, Master Nilsson. His name is Edward Fustian.’
Fustian! Alex had met the man and considered him a smarmy, arrogant, insular fellow. He had a certain attraction for the ladies, which irritated Alex exceedingly. He had heard it from Ingrid that he beat his wife and treated her like dirt beneath his feet. Yet he had not thought to include him in the names on the list of those he suspected might be guilty of passing on information about cargoes and times of departure of ships sailing from the port of London.
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