Read Online Whisky From Small Glasses by Denzil Meyrick - Free Book Online Page B

here.’ Daley pointed his finger at the swirling image, without touching the screen. He was glad he had spent time the previous evening poring over Google maps of the crime scene and the area in general. ‘What does this indicate to you?’
    Flynn rubbed his beard. ‘If you’re asking me for an opinion, Inspector, I’ll give it freely, but it’s only an opinion, mind. Based on what I know of these waters, and the help I get fae this kit, you canna ever be certain what happens at sea . . .’
    ‘I understand that you can only give an indication, Mr Flynn. No one’s going to question your judgement if it’s proved wrong. I really need some idea of how, when and from which direction the body came to end up where it did, and at the time it did.’ Daley nodded at the harbour master, who straightened up from leaning over the screen, crossed his arms and pursed his lips. Whatever he was about to say, Daley realised that he didn’t really want to say it.
    ‘Well, in my opinion, if the timescale you’ve given me for this poor lassie entering the water is correct, there is no way possible she could’ve been washed into that bay by the force of wind or tide. In fact, the opposite. If she drowned in the sound here’ – he pointed again at the screen – ‘she wid likely be somewhere out in the Atlantic by now, or maybe washed upon the North Antrim coast, aye, or even Donegal. But Machrie Bay – nah, no chance.’
    ‘The post mortem indicated that the body had been gnawed by shellfish, probably prawns – surely they’re only present in deeper water?’
    ‘Aye, you’re right there, Inspector. There’s no such things as prawns in Machrie Bay. Into the Sound, aye: crab, lobster, prawns and langoustines – but definitely not in the bay. Anyway, we’re not talking about a big stretch of water, are we, Mr Daley? If there had been a body floating aboot in it, someone wid have spotted it before. Wid ye not think?’
    Daley looked at the computer image. The bay was small. ‘So, taking this into account, our victim would had to have been put where she was found? You’re saying, sir, that she was dumped in, or spent time out at sea, then was moved into Machrie Bay? Either that, or could she have been dragged into the bay inadvertently by some vessel, Mr Flynn?’
    ‘Aye, it’s possible, but mind you, the bay itself is quite shallow. The only craft you get in there are small: lobster boats, pleasure craft and the like. I canna see a vessel like that hauling a body intae the bay without noticing.’ He shrugged his shoulders.
    ‘Are there many lobster boats there?’
    ‘Ach, nooadays only six or so. Used tae be a lot mair, aye, an’ scallop boats too, but that trade’s dead now after the ban. The scallops got infected by sewage. Well, they said they were. If you ask me there was nathin’ wrong wi’ them. That was my trade, Inspector, scallop fisherman.’
    Fraser was frowning, ‘I know the fishermen out there, sir, and they don’t miss much.’
    Daley ran his hand through his close-cropped dark hair. It looked very much as though the body had been dumpedin the bay, rather than being washed up there; then there was the restraint mark around the ankle of the victim. ‘I take it you have a record of which vessels moor here, Mr Flynn?’
    ‘Of course, Inspector.’ Flynn appeared suddenly on the defensive. ‘I make sure my books are meticulous.’ He looked at Daley and Fraser in turn; the latter had his eyebrow raised at this sudden rush of self-justification. ‘Sorry, chaps.’ He laughed, eyes downcast. ‘A bit of a touchy subject, actually. That’s what did for my predecessor, y’see. The place was a shambles when I arrived here.’
    Daley looked around, unintentionally making his thoughts clear.
    ‘I know it’s untidy, Mr Daley, but I know where everything is.’ He reached under a pile of papers on the bureau and pulled out a heavy leatherbound ledger that looked as antiquated as the furniture.