Page 57 of Slack Tide Kill

Sally grinned, the hook in her chest pulling tight. This was something real, finally. She took out her phone. "And you get the employees."

"On it."

The rain beat down as they placed their first calls.

24 MERMAIDS AND SIRENS

The calls took the best part of an hour and a half, and by the end Sally's hand ached from writing.

She had 54 names.

The Marine Management Organization had been efficient enough; a duty officer pulled the licensed vessel register for Romney Marsh and Dungeness in under 10 minutes, reading out names in a flat Midlands accent while Sally transcribed. 37 registered commercial boats operating out of the area.

The harbor master at Rye had been both more forthcoming and less useful simultaneously. A retired fisherman called Bert Causley, 74, who'd held the post for 20 years and knew every boat and skipper personally. He talked for 40 minutes. Sally filled two pages and circled nothing.

"Lot of these lads are dead," Causley said cheerfully, near the end. "Dungeness takes them young, the sea does. Harsh mistress, that siren song. You want the sons too, do you?"

"Please," Sally said, and ended up writing down 17 more names.

Across the table Liam had less luck with the council. The food hygiene certificate for the Crab Shack had been issued to Reginald Rook personally, with no staff listed. There had been two Environmental Health inspections, in 2009 and 2014. The 2009 inspector's notes mentioned a 'young male assistant, name not recorded.' The 2014 visit found the premises unoccupied.

Companies House provided the full registration history for Reactor Maintenance Logistics Ltd. The company had been formed in 1993, with three directors listed: Reginald Rook, Crawford Meeks and Gerald Spate. Payroll records from HMRC across all 15 Rook companies came back within the hour; most of the companies had never filed a payroll return at all. Reactor Logistics had employed three people beyond the directors in its operational years: a plant hire coordinator, a drainage subcontractor and an administrative assistant. All three names went onto Liam's pad, along with everything else he'd found.

Once it was all written up on the board, there were 77 names.

Sally erased the duplicates and circled what was left. Gerald Spate appeared three times and earned a circle in red.

That trimmed the list to 65 names. Sally tapped her pen against her teeth. All people who might conceivably have been inside the Crab Shack. They could narrow it further using the Fates' profile, but for that they'd need more information.

Gender was easy, but age and career would take some digging. She began by underlining the male lines. The foremost standouts were Spate and some of Reg Rook's older cousins. They'd all be about the right age. They'd all been involved closely with the land. Maybe they all knew where the bodies were buried.

"It's a start," Liam said. "But it's far from complete."

Sally grunted. "We need a bigger net. With a tighter weave."

Sally's eyes drifted up to the clock. Coming up for 9 p.m. She was deeply tired now. The tide had crept up while she was working, held back by the dam of adrenaline, but now it was overflowing. Every muscle ached. Her throat pulsed hot, every swallow a tiny, jagged pill. Her eyes felt like they'd been packed with sand.

"No sign of Mayhew," she reflected.

"Good sign, you think?" Liam asked. He looked as worn as she felt; cheeks gray, the red welt on his neck standing out sharply.

"McMaster would have called if we were off. She would've come and given us the boot. She just had to blow off steam."

Liam snorted. "Same with faulty boilers. Until they explode. Or start venting carbon monoxide."

Sally gazed at the list until her eyes drifted out of focus. Sixty-five names. Was the killer amongst them?

"There's a hotel in Lydd," Sally said. "The Albion."

Liam shuddered. "I can't face the drive now. Bound to be full of press by now anyway."

"Maybe somewhere in Rye, then."

Liam pulled out his phone and searched. Minutes passed and Sally drifted. "OK, there's places on Mermaid Street. Some gorgeous old alley, barely a 10-minute walk."

Sally rubbed her eyes. "Yeah. Two rooms."

"Two rooms, comped by the Agency." His thumbs moved across his screen. "Done. They've got a restaurant too."