JILL KNOWS THATif there were cameras on that boat, they are totally fucked. She tries not to imagine the worst, but she does, over and over. She tries to remain calm. But she didn’t sign up for this. She didn’t anticipate such a stupid, catastrophic mistake. She’s terrified of going to prison.
Ted has gone down to the marina to be on hand during the recovery efforts; he thinks it’s what a grieving brother would do. She suspects that he also wants to get away from her, from her near hysteria, from her blame.
She forces herself to answer the flood of calls and texts from various friends, coworkers, and their wide range of acquaintances, distracted always by the terrifying prospect of cameras on the boat. She is careful what she says. If people ask about a funeral, Jill tells them that at this point, no funeral will be scheduled, but a memorial service will be planned further down the road.
And now Lara is on her way over. Jill doesn’t want to see her,but it would look odd if she refused to see Lara, her best friend. Lara knows her well, can read her better than anyone else; she must not detect the depth of her distress. She’ll be here any minute. Jill tries to pull herself together.
Ted is at the marina, drinking bad coffee from a vending machine.
He hasn’t gone into the members’ lounge where the coffee would be much better. He’s not a member, and even though he has been told he would be welcome, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone. Instead, he has been offered a room where he can be by himself while he waits. He realizes it’s the same room they were in the night before, when they were questioned by the man from the Coast Guard who took their statement.
The windows look out onto the harbour, and he can see the lines of moored boats graceful and glinting in the sun. His eyes findFortune Seeker. He can see that she has been cordoned off with yellow tape. There’s no one around her. He thinks about going down there, slipping past the tape and searching the damn boat himself for cameras. His heart races as he considers it. He would be seen. Could he make an excuse? Say he’d lost something yesterday, his watch perhaps? And claim that he didn’t realize that the yellow tape included him, that he didn’t realize he wasn’t allowed back on board to look for it? He glances down at the waterproof watch on his wrist and realizes he was wearing it while they were being interviewed in this very room last night, so that won’t work. Something else then? What would he do if hedidfind cameras? He feels himself break into a sweat.
While he considers a course of action, he sees two men make their way down the dock and board theFortune Seeker, one wearing a black US Coast Guard uniform, the other in plain clothes. Ted recognizes the one in plain clothes– it’s the special agent who was at their house that morning.
Ramirez steps past the yellow caution tape and onto theFortune Seeker.
The vessel appears to have escaped yesterday’s incident at sea unscathed. She’s a lovely boat, and he takes a moment to admire her. He can’t imagine ever owning a boat like this one. After walking about the deck, he goes down below, checking out the galley. All the equipment on board is top-of-the-line gear. She’s a beauty, that’s for sure, all the bells and whistles.
He will examine the boat thoroughly, taking his time. He will be slow and methodical. He will look for signs of foul play– water often washes blood away, but sometimes, if a victim is struck on the head below deck, for example, there might be telltale drops of blood. He’s found it before. He’s even found blood on deck, not visible to the naked eye, but revealed by the chemicals and equipment he has at his disposal. Or something that ought to be there might be missing– a hatchet, or a hammer– a possible murder weapon, tossed over the side with the victim. He’d seen that before too. He will look for anything suspicious. But first, he will look for surveillance cameras on the boat. He is certain that Ted and Jill Westcott have something to hide. Something happened on this boat that they didn’t want anyone to see. He’s sure of it.
Lara thinks Jill looks awful. She can see how colourless Jill is, and the strain around her eyes, even in her movements. You can tell just looking at her that she’s been through something terrible.
They’d hugged in the doorway, Lara telling her how sorry she was. Jill had thanked her, looking distraught, then led her down the long hall to the kitchen. Now Jill moves around, making them coffees, getting out biscuits– the expensive ones from the nearby bakery on Montague Street that they both like. She pulls out a tray to take everything out to the back garden or the front room. That’s what they usually do when she comes over for coffee. They never sit in the kitchen. Lara supposes Jill wants to keep things as normal as possible.
‘How are you doing?’ she asks with concern, watching Jill across the kitchen.
‘I think we’re still in shock,’ Jill says. ‘You never expect anything like this to happen. I mean, one moment, life is going on as usual, and then the next, everything has changed.’ Jill stops putting biscuits on a plate and looks back at Lara.
Jill really does seem badly unnerved by what’s happened, and Lara feels a surge of sympathy for her. She asks, ‘How’s Ted?’
‘He’s a mess, to be honest,’ Jill answers. ‘He didn’t sleep at all last night. He blames himself for not insisting Greg wear a life jacket, but when was anyone ever able to make Greg do anything?’ She goes back to arranging biscuits.
Lara hesitates and says, ‘As harsh as it sounds to say this– and please don’t take it the wrong way– it’s Greg’s own fault for not wearing a life jacket. Ted shouldn’t blame himself.’
‘I know.’ Jill sighs heavily. ‘Thanks, Lara. I told Ted the same thing.’
‘I’m here for you, you know that.’
‘Inside or outside?’ Jill asks.
‘Outside,’ Lara decides. It’s a nice day, and they might as well enjoy Jill’s lovely backyard garden while they still can. The cold weather will be here soon enough.
Jill picks up the tray and carries it through the back doors out to the patio, where she sets it down on the pretty bistro table surrounded by fragrant pink roses. They sit at the table, holding their coffees and facing each other.
‘It must have been terrifying,’ Lara says, hoping to get more details.
‘It was,’ Jill admits. ‘You know I don’t know anything about sailing. I just sit there and admire the view.’ She pauses. ‘But yesterday, it got so rough the farther we went out. And suddenly the wind was so strong, and the waves were so high. It was making me sick, and I was scared. Ted told Greg we wanted to turn back, but he laughed and said we were just starting to have fun.’ Jill looks at her. ‘I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but it was so selfish of him, really. He put us all at risk.’ After a moment she says, ‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life.’
Lara studies her friend with concern. She has gone still, her eyes fixed now on her coffee cup, as if she’s reliving it. Lara says, ‘I don’t like to speak ill of the dead either, but he always struck me as someone who put himself first.’
‘Well, sometimes. But he could be very generous too,’ Jill says. ‘Remember that time he came to the show at the gallery and bought the most expensive painting there, right off the bat? That started other people buying too. That was a great night.’
Lara nods. She remembers. But she wants to hear more aboutwhat happened on the boat without looking too keen to hear the grisly details. ‘How did it happen? I mean, if you feel up to talking about it.’
‘It feels okay to be talking about it to you. I just don’t want to talk to the media.’
‘Of course.’
