“I see,” replied Tusker. “We’ll get ourselves settled then and talk later.” Sebastian gave a single nod and went back to his work. Tusker walked back out to the van, where Ian had unloaded most of their gear. Srivathnan was having a smoke. He’d drive back to Galle that night. Tusker couldn’t imagine doing that trip in reverse again so soon, but the quiet driver wanted to get home.

Tusker picked up his duffel bag and slung his buoyancy harness over one shoulder. It was still damp from the previous week’s diving. Was Sebastian running this whole place by himself, with guests and dive courses to teach? he thought. As if in answer to his question, he heard an engine approach up the dusty entrance road. It was a battered blue Land Rover with a tire on its bonnet, probably from the 1970s. It came to a stop, the engine taking its time to shut off.

The driver’s-side door opened and a young woman stepped down. She flashed a brilliant white smile at Tusker. She was Sri Lankan but not dressed in the conservative saree of so many he’d seen on the streets in Galle. Rather, she wore a pair of olive-colored cotton shorts that showed off long sinewy thighs, with a khaki ribbed tank top under an unbuttoned linen shirt. On her wrist he noticed a beat-up Seiko diving watch hanging loosely on a metal band. Her hair was shiny black, knotted in a braid that hung over her right shoulder. She had a pair of Ray-Ban aviators perched atop her head. He suddenly realized he was staring at her.

“Mister… Tusk?” she asked, grinning as if she knew the effect she had on him. Her accent had the lilt of most South Asians but Tusker detected something else, as if she’d grown up or studied elsewhere. Something to ask later perhaps. She lifted a cardboard box full of plastic water bottles off the passenger seat and kicked the door of the Land Rover shut with her heel.

“Yes, Julian Tusk,” he finally replied, “but most people call me Tusker.” How ridiculous, he thought.

She laughed a full, deep laugh, almost a man’s laugh. “Why? Do you have big teeth, Mr. Tusk, or a big nose?”

“I’m just big,” Tusker winked back. “And you are… ?”

“I’m Samanthi, Sebastian’s daughter. I assume you’ve met Thathi, er… my father, already,” she continued. “And Tusker, you can call me Sam.” The smile again.

She remembered something and her face fell. “Dinesh from MOCHA told us you were arriving this afternoon. I’m really sorry about the circumstances. We really were fond of Upali and his team here. What a tragedy.”

“Thanks, yeah,” Tusker replied, following Sam as she carried the box to the Deep Blue’s kitchen. “We came straightaway when we got the news. Any new developments you’ve heard today?”