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Whenever she came to stay, we shared a bed, and Agnesa had a roll-up mattress in the sitting room. Even though she smoked, Polina smelled of lavender and some other scent that I could never place, but it was earthy and raw and dangerous.
‘Make sure you marry a rich boy,’ she told me.
‘I don’t like boys,’ I said.
‘That will change.’
Agnesa must have been listening because she did like boys. Briefly. Sadly.
18
Cyrus
The remains of the rigid-hulled inflatable boat are lying like a deflated whale on the concrete floor of the warehouse. The red and black fabric is torn in places, revealing the skeletal frame beneath the rubberised skin. Nearby, the engine and fuel tank have been placed on a wooden platform. The engine is clamped upright in a support frame, the upper casing removed, the workings exposed.
A technician in white overalls has climbed a ladder to take photographs of the RHIB from above. Another is measuring holes in the torn fabric, while a third is placing small evidence flags to indicate points of interest. She turns and acknowledges us, recognising Carlson. Smiling.
‘This is DC Gayle,’ he says, making the introductions.
‘Call me Claire,’ she says.
No handshakes. A gloved wave, instead. She’s in her late thirties, with short-cropped blonde hair and inquisitive eyes.
‘What are you looking for?’ I ask.
‘Point of impact, velocity, direction, size, yaw axis, supplementary damage . . .’
‘When you say supplementary damage?’
‘The RHIB was hit more than once.’
‘How many times?’ asks Carlson.
‘Three times from different angles.’
She moves around the wreckage, pointing out tears in the fabric.
‘The damage was caused by propellers with four blades.’
‘How can you tell?’ I ask.
‘The leading edge of each blade contacts the water first as the propeller spins. The trailing edge contacts the water last as it rotates. That’s why trawler props tend to be rounded or half-oval shapes. The damage has parallel tracks, indicating twin propellers.’
‘How big was the boat?’ asks Carlson.
‘A twin-screw vessel with counter-rotating propellers twenty-five inches in diameter with a thirty-two-inch pitch – suggests something about sixty feet long.’
‘A fishing trawler.’
‘That would fit,’ she says.
DC Gayle steps away from the RHIB and pulls off her latex gloves.
She continues. ‘A typical four-blade propeller can spin at anywhere from one thousand two hundred to three thousand two hundred RPMs, depending on the engine horsepower. A spinning blade will hit a body about a hundred and sixty times a second, causing horrific injuries. You also have the hydrodynamic effect. Propellers create a suction that can easily pull a full-sized person under a boat. When that happens, the impact to a body, head to toe, takes about a tenth of a second, and is normally fatal.’
‘That fits with some of the injuries we found,’ says Carlson.
Gayle has walked several paces to point out more damage. ‘The original impact destroyed two of the air chambers on the starboard side. The second impact destroyed another air chamber and briefly submerged the RHIB. We have found traces of boat paint on the rubberised fabric and evidence that the bigger vessel’s prop shaft may have been damaged.’
