Blood in the Water: A DCI Keane Scottish Crime Thriller by Oliver Davies (read full novel txt) 📗

taste the food properly if I drank that. I set it aside and rinsed my mouth out with water. Mads noticed, of course, as he came back bearing another salad bowl and a mixed bread basket.

“It just won’t do, will it? I was afraid it might not. Never mind, I have a nice, neutral Pinot Noir that will accompany the main course very nicely indeed. The others can polish these bottles off. They have no palate at all, the heathens.” He removed our glasses and the offending bottles, and I heard the satisfying sound of a couple of corks being pulled before he came back with their replacements.

“At least it’s already room temperature,” he apologised as he poured for us both.

Our main course was a superb vegetable lasagne and the second salad went with it perfectly. Lots of crunchy kale and chopped chilli peppers with some surprising bites of avocado in the mix. There was a separate dish of baby beets too. Mads had got it right with the Pinot Noir. He was pouring us a second glass each before we were half done.

“It is so nice to feed someone who truly appreciates good food for a change,” Mads told me. He’d been very good, glancing over at me quite regularly but not staring or making me feel at all uncomfortable. It was like he was admiring an engaging piece of art rather than ogling. I didn’t mind that. “Although I doubt you will ever fill out that lovely shirt, no matter how much I can encourage you to eat. Do you always wear clothes that are a size too big for you?”

“Nearly always, yes. Loose things are far more comfortable.” He let it go at that, sipping reflectively at his wine.

“You mentioned in your note that you were interested in having a look around Kværnen. In fact, I am guessing that that is the reason you decided to accept my invitation. Was there anything, in particular, you were interested in seeing?”

“Actually, yes, there is. I was hoping Mr Daniels or Mr Verity might let me take a peep at all their high-tech gadgets. I assume your father is using her as a research vessel, not just a pleasure boat. I mean, he wouldn’t need round-the-clock technicians otherwise.”

His eyes widened a little at that. My answer had surprised him. What had he thought I’d want to see? More stupidly expensive furniture and fittings?

“And what do you expect to find?”

“Some pretty cool equipment, hopefully. A knockout computer system, for starters, with integrated data logging and a top of the line satellite upload link. And I’d like to see what her echo sounders and seismic setups are like and find out what kind of AUVs she carries.” Surely they’d have a couple of autonomous underwater vehicles to send out. “Then there’s surface water and meteorological monitoring, wave radar, oh and an acoustic doppler current profiler. I wonder how many transducer heads she has in her hull…” I trailed off uncertainly. I didn’t like the intensity with which he was staring at me now. “Sorry, that probably sounded really nosy and geeky. I get a bit carried away sometimes.”

“Not at all. I was merely surprised to discover that you were such a knowledgeable enthusiast. And you have no idea what you look like when you become so animated. It is quite a devastating effect.” He just couldn’t help it, I decided, calmly ignoring the comment. The man would flirt with anything he took a fancy to but in a very non-threatening and rather charming way. “Where did you learn about all those things?” He deliberately returned his attention to his plate.

“I read a lot of scientific articles. And, given the current, deplorable state of things, oceanographic research is one of the subjects I like to keep an eye on.” I cut myself another bite of lasagne and added some salad to the fork. “Denmark’s renewable energy ambitions are very exciting. I wish a lot more countries were that progressive.”

“You have some surprisingly eclectic interests, considering your chosen profession,” Mads told me after a thoughtful little silence. “But I would be happy to take you down there once we have finished this course, if you like? Dessert can wait until later, if that is agreeable to you?”

“Definitely.” Our portions had been sensibly sized, but my stomach wouldn’t welcome any further additions for a while yet after we’d polished this serving off.

Mads led me down the generous curving staircase to the lower deck. His stateroom took up the forward section, and the students shared the two guest cabins aft of it. Even Liam wouldn’t need to duck his head anywhere on this boat, and as I’d expected, the entire interior seemed to be fitted out better than most luxury hotels.

“All the cabins have their own bathrooms and showers.” He opened the stateroom to show me; it was very roomy. The bed alone was enormous, and the shower in the bathroom looked like it had been designed with multiple users in mind. The glass-walled cubicle was a good six feet wide. He realised I wasn’t particularly interested in looking at any of that pretty quickly. Still, at least all the woodwork I’d seen so far had been very nicely finished.

“Of course, father sacrificed any extra guest cabins to kit out his little nerve centre, as you already surmised.” There was a steel door that looked like it belonged on a lift at the end of the accessible passageway. It slid open almost silently when he pressed a button on a panel on the wall.

Daniels looked around, surprised, as we walked in. He was sitting at a wide, curving control console against the portside bulkhead with an array of flat-screen monitors ranged around and above it. I could see another door ahead of us. That probably led to the crew quarters and on to the engine room.

“Herre Nielsen! Good evening, Sir. May I help you with something?”

“You remember Mr Keane, Mr Daniels?” Mads asked.

“Of course. It’s nice