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‘The Arianna II was carrying an AIS transponder, which gave its location every few minutes via satellite. This shows the patterns it was fishin’ each day. Dogger Bank is the UK’s largest sandbank and one of its biggest fishing grounds.’
The map is marked by a series of tight lines, displayed in red, that seem to zigzag across the ocean. Each position is time coded, showing the location of the trawler when the signal was sent to the satellite.
‘Can the transponder be turned off?’ I ask.
‘Aye, it happens. They call it going dark.’ Fishy makes inverted commas in the air with his fingers. ‘Some skippers don’t want other boats knowing where they’re fishing, or they might be doing something illegal. But do it too often, or for too long, and you’ll trigger a coastguard search or have the authorities asking questions.’
‘They’re worried about smuggling.’
‘Or illegal fishing.’
Evie has been running her fingers along the edge of the table. ‘Eight days seems like a long time to be at sea,’ she says.
‘Not really,’ says Fishy. ‘A trawler won’t come home without a catch, unless equipment breaks or they’re running out of fuel.’
I look again at the map. Evie doesn’t remember a fire or explosion, which means the loss of the Arianna II could be unrelated to her past. Maybe she was on a different boat.
‘Did Angus and Cameron ever work for other skippers?’ I ask.
‘Aye, maybe. Angus and Finn had been fishin’ since they were wee lads, but Cam was different. Like it or not, he was heading off to university when the semester started.’
‘Did he have a choice?’ asks Evie.
‘Not the way of things. Willie Radford had three sons and only one boat. Angus was the eldest. He was always going to inherit the Arianna. The other boys had to make their own way.’
I look at Evie, hoping she has another question because I’m out of ideas. Nothing is any clearer. Whatever answers there are seem to be locked inside her head and she won’t give me the key. I know the reason. Self-preservation. Sanity. Survival. Some memories are buried for a reason. How else do we carry the past?
6
Cyrus
‘Where are you going?’ asks Evie when I drop her back at the guest house.
‘To look for someone.’
‘The crew?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can I come?’
‘No.’
She’s about to argue, but I stop her. ‘If you were on board that boat, Evie, I don’t want anyone recognising you.’
‘But I might recognise them,’ she says. ‘I can help.’
‘Not this time.’
There is no point in lying to Evie. The best way to counter her questions is to give answers with more than one possible meaning. Ambiguity and doublespeak can sometimes conceal the truth from her, but I suspect she’s beginning to work this out.
‘If you’re hungry, get something delivered,’ I say. ‘And if you do go out – don’t talk to anyone or ask about the trawler.’
She makes a hmmmph sound and turns on the TV, choosing my room instead of hers.
I have two missed calls. One from Florence and the other from DI Carlson. Florence is the first to answer. I tell her about the explosion and fire on board the Arianna II and how Angus Radford suffered burns to his face and hands.
‘Evie has recognised someone else – Angus Radford’s brother. He died in the fire.’
