Many hours pass, but the man does not fall asleep. He waits, to see what will occur. Ruby should come out at any moment, he thinks. He imagines her passing by in front of him, unaware that he’s hiding there, waiting to follow her wherever she goes.

And then, when the winter night is at its darkest, the injured man can’t bear the suspense any longer. He creeps from the shadows and places silent fingers on the zip of the boat’s rain cover.

CHAPTER

47

NOW

Joanna

Thursday, December 27

JO BROKE THE speed limit twice on the way to Ripon, which Atkinson had found out was the last recorded location for Sam’s boat. She followed satnav directions to the canal terminus, parked hastily next to the water, and got out. The sky was completely dark, but the canal was illuminated by a handful of streetlights scattered around the almost deserted basin. A single narrowboat floated in darkness, moored a short distance from where the waterway came to a dead end.

As she approached the black-and-red-painted craft, Harper read the name on a plank propped in the window, hand-drawn letters picked out in white on a blue background.

Nessie.

From above her, a harsh, disembodied voice yelled, “Is that boat anything to do with you?” and Joanna looked up to see a person leaning from the window of one of the houses backing onto the canal side where Nessie was moored. “There’s no overnight mooring here. So you better move it, or I’ll get it moved for you.”

“I’m a police officer,” said Harper.

“Oh, good. Are you going to tow it? I’m sick of looking at the scruffy old thing.”

“How long has it been here?”

“More than twenty-four hours now. The Canal Trust man came by, left them a fixed penalty notice, serves them right. Since then I’ve been keeping an eye out.”

“You haven’t seen anyone on board?”

“A man, yesterday. He didn’t say much, refused to move. I’m glad the police are interested, finally. When I rang up, they didn’t seem to care. They said it was a civil matter.”

“Just a man? No one else? What did he look like?”

“White guy. Straggly beard. Looked like they all do. Boat dwellers.”

“Thank you, madam, go inside now. I’ll deal with it.”

Once the person had shut the window and drawn the curtain across, Jo turned back to the boat.

No light burned in any of the windows, but when she put her hand on the chimney, she found that it was very slightly warm. The fire had been lit, perhaps this morning, and allowed to burn out. She knocked on the side. No sounds.