Page 24

Your movements are not understood .

You are running into danger .

I hoped that Eddie saw them and understood the message.

I hoped even more that Eddie was safe . There was a killer on Dauntless, after all.

I turned back and looked at the village, and saw a group of people setting out towards the north of the island. Towards Seal Beach, where Eddie had been seen last.

Fuck .

Apparently Josiah Nesmith’s name didn’t carry as much authority as I’d hoped.

I hurried home. Eddie’s tent was still lying in a bundle at the door to the lighthouse, and I figured I should take it inside or something. But I had more pressing concerns.

I unlatched my kitchen door and stepped into the cottage. Hiccup padded after me and collapsed in a heap on the floor, her tongue lolling.

I crossed to the radio. “Dauntless Island to Marine Area Command?”

“Dauntless Island, this is Marine Area Command. Go ahead.”

“I need the ETA of your police vessel, Marine Area Command.”

“Copy that. Marine Area Command to OPV Bluefin , do you copy?”

A third voice cut in over static. “This is OPV Bluefin . Dauntless Island, we’re about two hours out. What’s the situation there?”

Unravelling rapidly , I thought. “Someone moved John Coldwell’s body last night.

It was found under the jetty this morning.

I’ve got over three hundred people on this island who think Eddie Hawthorne killed a man, and a bunch of them are looking for him now.

If they find him, I’m not sure what will happen. ”

“Copy that, Dauntless. We’ll be with you as fast as we can.”

“Copy, thanks. Dauntless out.” I exhaled heavily and set the receiver back down.

I thought of Henry Jessup’s diary, stashed in a Cornflakes box, and wished it had never fallen into Eddie’s hands to begin with. I’d been unsure how I felt about it at first, but I knew now. A man was dead. Josiah Nesmith’s reputation wasn’t worth killing for. No man’s was.

I sighed again and looked out the window toward the lighthouse. If the Bluefin was still two hours out, it wouldn’t even be a speck on the horizon yet.

“Breakfast, hey?” I said, and Hiccup was at my side in an instant, her tail thumping against my knee.

It was another porridge day.

I made some for myself and set some aside to cool for Hiccup. Amy would tell me off for feeding Hiccup people food, but Hiccup didn’t have any complaints. Anyway, oats hardly counted, right?

Feeding her porridge in a people plate was probably wrong too, but who was going to find out?

I checked my watch when me and Hiccup had finished our breakfast.

It was almost eight. Still over an hour until the police arrived, but I was too pent up to just sit around and wait.

I took my coat from the hook behind the door, pulled it on, and stepped outside into the chill air.

Hiccup nosed her way around the yard as I strode for the lighthouse.

I pushed the door open and climbed the stairs to the lantern room.

Once there, I took my binoculars and stepped out onto the catwalk.

I scanned the grey horizon. Visibility was poor.

The clouds were low and the sea was choppy.

The horizon bled into both of them. It was no clear line today—it was a charcoal smudge.

I watched it anyway, filling my lungs with salt air.

I stood there until my fingers turned white with cold, and then went back inside.

I was placing the binoculars back in their case when I heard the faint clang of the door, ninety-six steps down. And then a voice drifted up to the lantern room, strangely distorted by the shape of the lighthouse tower.

“Joe? Are you up there?”

My heart skipped a beat.

Eddie!

“Eddie?” I jogged down the steps, holding the rail and leaning over as I hurried down, turning like the hand of a clock around the dial of the lighthouse’s central mast. The black and white tiles on the ground floor spun in my vision.

A familiar figure in a green beanie and a red jacket stepped into my sight, and I caught myself on the landing of the second floor, leaning over the rail. “Eddie!”

Eddie looked up at me, his face flushed and his grin a little bashful. “Hi, Joe.”

I caught my breath. “What are you doing here, Eddie?”

“What?” Eddie pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

“I mean, it was cold last night. Really fucking cold! So I thought I’d come back for my tent, because my goat might not come back tonight, and then I realised that was an arsehole move, and so I’m here to apologise.

For being an arsehole, mostly. I know you didn’t take the diary.

That was like a midnight cold-as-balls revelation that I had.

Why the fuck would you steal the diary when you know I have a digital copy?

That would be pretty fucking dumb, wouldn’t it? ”

“Did you see the flags?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie said. “They look nice.”

“They’re not nice, Eddie! They’re a message!”

“Oh, right,” Eddie said. “For boats and stuff.”

“For you, you bloody idiot!”

“For me?” Eddie’s jaw dropped. “What sort of message?” He tugged his beanie off and jammed it in his pocket. “I don’t speak flag , Joe!”

I hurried down the rest of the steps and at last joined Eddie at the base of the central mast. “Your movements are not understood. You are running into danger .”

Eddie wrinkled his nose. “What are you talking about?”

I grabbed him by the shoulders. I didn’t know whether I wanted to kiss him or throttle him. “Where were you last night?”

“In like, some bushes?” Eddie shrugged. “Near a beach? It was fucking cold, that’s all I know. There was a goat.”

“Did you hear the bells yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie said. “For Sunday church, right?”

“We don’t have church services here, Eddie! Jesus Christ!” Throttle him. I definitely wanted to throttle him.

“Well how was I supposed to know that?” Eddie demanded. “What were the bells for then?”

“Someone killed John Coldwell, and the entire fucking island thinks it was you!”

The colour drained from Eddie’s face. “What?”

“John Coldwell is dead,” I said. “And everyone thinks you did it.”

“Who—” The word was lost in a huff of breath. Eddie swallowed. “He’s dead ?”

“The police are coming. I know you didn’t hurt him, so we just need you to stay put somewhere safe until the police get here, okay? And we can get everything sorted out then.”

“Joe.” Eddie clutched the sleeve of my coat. “I saw him yesterday. He was fine. I mean, he was horrible, but he was fine. Why would… why would someone kill him? Oh god.” He tightened his grip on my sleeve. “I’m going to be Wicker Manned on this island, aren’t I?”

“That’s not a thing, Eddie.” I released his shoulder and cupped the side of his face. “The police will be here soon. You’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” Eddie said, his eyes wide. “But people think I killed him? Seriously?”

“Because of the diary. And because you were the last person to see him.”

Eddie’s brow creased. “But I wasn’t the last person to see him. When I was leaving the museum I saw?—”

Behind him, the door to the lighthouse opened.

“Hello, Mr. Hawthorne,” Short Clarry said, stepping inside. “Nice to see you again.”

And he pointed a gun at us.