“I didn’t see it. Bernie was with him on the tops’l yard when he fell. He says Drew just got careless. I’ve seen it before. Fools like him skylarking in the sheets. Bernie says he was trying to walk the yard when the ship lurched ’cause of that burst from the shoal. He lost his footing. Bernie tried to grab him as he hung on to the yard, but the wetness made him slip off.”

“Drew walking the yard in a rainstorm?” Jacob laughed. “Not likely.”

“And where was Royce during all this?” Bristol asked.

Dime shook his head. “I dunno, didn’t see him till later when he turned up at the masthead.”

“Bernie was playing cards with him last night, wasn’t he? I heard Drew walked away with a big pot.”

“Now you’re saying Bernie killed him?” a third fellow, with a red kerchief, asked. Hadrian had never seen him before but guessed he must be the captain of the mizzenmast, as the top captains, along with the boatswains, seemed to dine together at the same table.

“No, but I’m saying the cook was there and he and Royce are mates, aren’t they? I think—” Jacob stopped short when he spotted Hadrian. “Bloody good thing you’re a better cook than your mate is a topman or Mr. Temple’s liable to chuck you both in the deep.”

Hadrian said nothing. He looked around for Royce but did not find him, which was not too surprising, as he guessed his friend would not want to be anywhere near food.

“Might want to let your mate know I’ve asked Bristol here to have a word with Mr. Beryl about him.”

“Beryl?” Bristol responded, puzzled. “I was gonna talk to Wesley.”

“Bugger that,” Jacob said. “Wesley’s useless. He’s a bleeding joke, ain’t he?”

“I can’t go over his head to Beryl,” Bristol said defensively. “Wesley was watch officer when it happened.”

“Are you barmy? What’re you scared of? Think Wesley’s gonna have at ya for going to Beryl? All Wesley will do is report you. That’s all he ever does. He’s a boy and hasn’t grown a spine yet in that midshipman’s uniform of his. Only reason he’s on the Storm is ’cause his daddy is Lord Belstrad.”

“We need to serve the midshipmen next,” Poe reminded Hadrian, urgently tugging at his sleeve. “They mess in the wardroom aft.”

Hadrian dropped off the messkid, hanging it from a hook the way he had seen Poe do, and gave Jacob one last glance only to find the fore captain grinning malevolently.