Page 6 of Dead in the Water (Lily Larkin Mysteries #4)

Chapter Six

The sergeant’s reply to Flynn’s message the previous evening had merely said they could discuss the prospect of him extending his stay in the morning.

Of course, the discovery of the body in the harbour meant a change in priorities.

With the busy morning, Flynn hadn’t even given it a thought, but it came to him when he took the sergeant a coffee at lunchtime.

“Thought you might be ready for a caffeine fix,” he said, setting it on his desk.

“Thanks. Are they here yet?”

With his mind elsewhere, Flynn squinted in confusion. “Who?”

“The friends of the deceased. They were supposed to come over at noon.”

“They’re not here yet.”

Sergeant Proctor checked his watch. “No time for lunch before they get here. We’ll get sandwiches once we’ve spoken to them.”

“Okay. Are you going to speak to them in here?”

“No. In the interview room. I’ll talk to each of the couples, then the other guy. I’m fairly sure we got all the information we need from them at the scene, but it can’t hurt to chat through things again, when they’ve had a bit of time to digest everything.”

Slowly, Flynn shook his head. “Presuming he fell straight after speaking to his son, it wouldn’t even have been that late. If someone had heard something and gone out to check, things might have been different.”

“I’m sure they’ll all be kicking themselves that they didn’t stay up longer. Too late for ‘what ifs’ now, though.”

“Yeah.” Flynn backed up to the door, deciding the conversation about making his position permanent would wait until tomorrow. “I’ll let you know when they arrive.”

“Thanks. I’d like you there when I speak to them.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Jeff can man the phone and the front desk. I’m sure we’re going to have lots of curious residents as word gets out.”

“Okay,” Flynn said slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He rubbed at his forehead. “I just thought you’d want Jeff with you.”

“You’re better at this sort of thing.”

Flynn opened his mouth, then closed it again.

The sergeant leaned onto his desk. “Is there a problem?”

“No. I just don’t want to cause any issues with PC Hill…”

“It’s fine. He’s happy manning reception. And he agreed you’re better at interviewing people. It makes sense to work to our strengths.”

“Great. Thanks.” Noise from the front of the building had him tilting his head. “That sounds like them now.”

Joyce Hughes fidgeted in her seat in the interview room. A constant stream of tears ran down her cheeks and the sound of tissue scraping every time she pulled another from the box was beginning to annoy Flynn.

“I just feel so terrible,” she said, after walking them through the events of the previous day. “If we’d have waited up for him, he’d still be alive. Why did we choose last night to go to bed early?” She directed the question at her husband, Keith, beside her.

“We weren’t to know,” he mumbled. “We were tired, so we went to bed. He’s a grown man. Of course, it didn’t occur to us to wait up for him.”

“But if we’d stayed up for another drink, Joseph might still be alive.”

The sergeant sat up straighter. “I’m afraid there’s no turning back the clock now. No sense in beating yourself up over what might have been.” He glanced down at his notes. “When you went to bed, your friends were still up. Is that correct?”

“Yes.” Joyce nodded. “We had a drink together back on the boat. Kerry and Vic were still in the galley when we went to bed, but I heard them going to bed soon after.” She swung around in her seat to face her husband.

“If only I hadn’t put my earplugs in. I’m a light sleeper usually,” she said, flicking her gaze to the sergeant.

“I had earplugs in and my eye mask on. Keith snores, you see.”

“You mentioned that,” the sergeant said, eyes on the notes they’d made at the scene.

“We both said when we woke up that we slept really well,” she went on, babbling away. “It must be the sea air, but we both slept deeply. Why did it have to be that night that we slept so well?”

“That last whiskey knocked me out.” Keith sighed heavily. “I wish I’d skipped it now.”

“I feel awful about all that business over selling the boat,” Joyce said and reached for yet another tissue.

“What business was that?” Flynn asked.

“Joseph wanted to sell his share of the boat,” Keith said. “We’d found a buyer – Russell, who’s travelling with us – but they couldn’t agree on a price.”

Joyce blew her nose noisily. “It caused some friction on the trip.”

“Nothing major,” Keith said. “There were a couple of uncomfortable conversations, but there wasn’t a lot we could do if they couldn’t agree on a price.”

“So Mr Whittaker changed his mind about selling?” Sergeant Proctor asked.

“No. I think he was just going to wait and see if Russell would increase the offer, or look for someone else to sell to. Like I say, it wasn’t a huge deal. Just a shame that it hadn’t been the relaxed trip we expected.”

“Joseph changed his mind about the holiday, so we were cutting the trip short and sailing back to St Ives,” Joyce added. “I just wish our last days together hadn’t involved that stress. We used to get on so well.”

“I imagine there’s always some friction when friends own a yacht together,” the sergeant said as he stood. “There’s really no sense in beating yourselves up. Thanks for speaking to us again.”

“What happens now?” Keith asked, standing.

“I spoke to Joseph’s son,” the sergeant said with a hand on the doorknob. “He wants to come over here and go through his father’s things on the boat. He’d also like to escort the body back to the mainland, so I’m waiting to hear when he can make it over.”

“We’ll have to stay longer then,” Joyce said, a hand on her husband’s arm. “We’ll stay and wait for James.” A fresh round of tears made her chest shudder. “Poor James.”

Flynn escorted them back to the reception and invited Russell Hart back to the interview room. The man was a good few years younger than the rest of the group, and sharply dressed in chinos and a short-sleeved shirt.

With his cool demeanour, he told them how he’d been staying at the Star Castle Hotel the previous evening.

As the only member of the party who wasn’t an owner of the yacht, he had the smallest cabin – which was so cramped that he avoided sleeping on the boat if there was another option.

He’d heard nothing about Mr Whittaker’s death until the others had informed him after the body had been found.

“We heard there’s been some dispute about you buying Mr Whittaker’s share of the boat?” Flynn asked, when Russell rounded up his account of the last twenty-four hours.

“Yes. We couldn’t agree on a price, though.

He thought I was lowballing him, but the boat’s in need of some repairs and maintenance.

Also, while buying in with other owners is appealing in some regards, it’s problematic in others.

I like the other owners and it’s great to have like-minded people to travel with, but there’s always some tension that comes with it too. The price needed to reflect that.”

“How did you leave things?”

“He said he wouldn’t sell unless I increased the offer.

I told him I wasn’t interested in buying at the price he wanted.

We left it at that. To be honest, I thought that with a bit of time he’d change his mind, especially as I knew he wouldn’t get a better offer.

Vic and Kerry were especially put out at having to cut the trip short.

They thought Joseph should let us continue on the boat without him, but he was adamant about going back to St Ives until everything was sorted out. ”

Flynn and the sergeant nodded along with his account, which matched what they’d heard from the Hugheses. After another five minutes, they’d been through everything with Russell and thanked him for coming in.

Flynn’s stomach growled while Kerry and Vic Cooper went through their recollection of events. The thought of sandwiches made his mouth water, and he sipped his coffee to keep the hunger at bay.

“You both went to bed at the same time?” he asked Kerry eventually.

“Yes. I was exhausted. We both were.” Unlike Joyce, she never once looked at her husband for confirmation or reassurance. She sat ramrod straight and the tissue box was in the same state as it had been when she walked in.

“I took a sleeping pill,” her husband said, running a hand over his bald head and drawing attention to his sunspots. “So I was out like a light.”

For the first time since entering the room, Kerry’s eyes slid to her husband. Then a small smile lifted her thin lips. “I’d been on the G&Ts in the pub, and then had a whiskey back on the boat, so I was dead to the world from the moment my head hit the pillows.”

If she registered her slightly unfortunate word choice, she didn’t show it.

“What a way to go,” she said blithely. “Awful for his son, of course, but I can’t help but think he’s with his wife now. He wasn’t the same after Lisa passed away. I’m not a religious person or anything, but it’s comforting to think of them together again.”

Flynn tapped his pen against his notepad. “We heard you weren’t happy about shortening your holiday when Joseph wanted to go back to St Ives.”

“Of course we weren’t happy!” Kerry shook her head. “It was selfish of him. Just because he didn’t want to continue, there was no need to spoil things for the rest of us. He could have flown home and we’d have sorted out selling his share of the boat later.”

“Kerry,” her husband said, shooting her a warning glance. “The man’s dead. Have some respect.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was fond of Joseph, but I don’t see the need to make a saint of him. He had his faults. Let’s not pretend he didn’t just because he’s dead.”

Vic heaved in a breath and eyed the sergeant. “Joyce mentioned we’d need to stay on the island until James arrives.”

“He wants to view his father’s body and go through his possessions on the boat,” the sergeant said.

“That makes sense,” Vic said. “I suppose we might continue our trip as planned.”

Kerry shifted in her seat. “Do you think so?” she asked her husband. “Wouldn’t it feel wrong to go off on holiday now?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head. “We’ll also have to figure out what happens with the boat. I imagine James owns Joseph’s share now. Maybe he’ll sell to Russell.”

“He seems keen to come out here anyway,” the sergeant said. “If it’s fine with you, I think the best thing would be for you to wait for him.”

“We’ll see if we can get rooms at the hotel again,” Kerry said to her husband. “I don’t want to be around the harbour thinking about Joseph in the water every time I pass.”

“We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions,” the sergeant said, bringing the conversation to a close. “Thanks for your help.”

Flynn escorted them out, then headed back to the sergeant who’d returned to his office.

“All seems straightforward,” Flynn said.

“Yeah.” The sergeant straightened papers on his desk. “We’ll need to wait for the post-mortem, but I imagine Doctor Redwood’s initial assessment of accidental drowning will be confirmed.”

Flynn was at the door, intent on doing a lunch run, when he stopped. “I forgot to mention that Lily messaged me. She saw Joseph Whittaker yesterday evening when she was closing up the shop. It must have been when he’d left the pub to go for a walk.”

Sergeant Proctor’s face broke into a broad grin. “Do you reckon anything will ever happen around here without her being involved somehow?”

“He just called into her shop,” Flynn said amused.

“Make sure the timeline fits with what we know so far.”

“Will do.”

“Lunch first, though!” he called after him.