“And to think, after being lost at sea, it was your old Landy that almost killed us in the end,” she said with a laugh. “The important thing is, we’re home and dry. But I’m dying for a cuppa. Any chance, Uncle?” Her eyes twinkled at the navy man.

“Of course, Samanthi.” He grinned and spun on his heel to head back towards the office. “And you must be the archaeologist Sebastian was telling me about.” He glanced sideways at Tusker as they walked. Tusker nodded and shook his hand. “I don’t know whether you’re brave or stupid to dive the Vampire on scuba.” Though he frowned, his eyes were kind and his manner avuncular. Tusker liked him already.

Captain Fonseka’s office was not air conditioned, but a ceiling fan kept the air moving. The place seemed unchanged since British times, with heavy, dark wood furniture, yellowed photos on the wall, and dark green metal filing cabinets that were rusting at the corners from the humidity. A young woman in a smart skirted uniform entered the office with a tray of tea and Marie biscuits and set it on the desk, then quickly and silently left.

“So you say the anchor line was cut?” Sebastian scowled incredulously.

“Well, it sure looked that way,” Tusker replied. “Naturally, I assumed it was an accident and the line had rubbed through on the gunwale or something, but now I don’t know.”

“I make sure to replace anchor lines regularly, and Roland would know to run it through a cleat,” Sebastian said. He himself was a former navy man and ran a tight ship at the Deep Blue. He shook his head.

“Well, there’s only one person who can tell us what happened, and that’s Roland,” said Sam. “We saw him on our way up here, in Pasikudah. He was with another man, a suddha, sorry, a white man—tall, silver haired—in a swank Land Cruiser. Rausing is his name. Tusker has met him.”

“I managed to take a photo,” Tusker said. He set down his cup and fished his phone from his cargo shorts. “Here it is. Sorry, it’s a bit blurry. We were in a hurry to get out of there.”

He handed the phone across the desk to Captain Fonseka, who pinched the screen to zoom in and studied it for a moment, then handed it back across.

“Yes, that’s Rausing all right, the chap who’s managing the harbor diving project in Batticaloa,” he said matter of factly. “Nice enough gent, if a little odd.” He took a bite of his biscuit, then wiped crumbs from his uniform. “Doesn’t say much. I’ve only met him a few times, at the planning meetings for the project. We’re providing security at the harbor.”