Shortly before dawn, Austin awakened and got up from the sofa. Pia heard him stir and rose to make him a breakfast. She cooked an industrial-sized potato omelet with smoked fish and pastry on the side. Then she packed him a lunch of cold cuts, cheese and apple and sent him on his way, first eliciting a promise to return.

The town was coming alive as he made his way in the damp morn- ing air to the fish pier. A couple of fishermen on their way to work waved at him from their trucks as he was opening the car door. The keys slipped from his fingers as he waved back-and when he bent to pick them up, his nostrils picked up a chemical smell, and he de- tected a soft splat-splat sound. He got down on his knees and peered under the car, where the odor was even stronger. Fluid dripped where the brake hoses had been cleanly cut. Austin grunted to him- self softly, then he went over to the fish pier and asked around for a aood mechanic. The harbormaster said he would call, and before long a lanky, middle-aged man showed up.

After inspecting the damage, the mechanic stood and handed Austin a section of the hose. “Somebody don't like you.”

“No chance it was an accident?”

The taciturn Faroese pointed to where the road out of town skirted a cliff, and he shook his head. “I figure you'd be flying with the birds up there on the first curve. No problem to fix, though.”

The mechanic repaired the brakes in short order. When Austin went to pay him, he waved away the money. “That's okay, you're a friend ofPia's.”

Austin said, “The people who did this might know I was at Pia's. I wonder if I should talk to the police.”

“No such thing here. Don't worry, the whole town will keep close watch on her.”

Austin thanked him again, and minutes later he was driving out of town. As he surveyed the sea stack in his rear view mirror, he men- tally ticked off the events of his short stay in Skaalshavn. He was leav- ing town with more questions than answers. Look on the bright side, he told himself with a grin. He had made some terrific new friends.

NUMA 4 - White Death

15

PAUL TROUT STEPPED onto the deck of Neals wooden- hulled trawler and appraised the boat with an expert eye. What he found surprised him. Neal was a charming conniver and a drunk, but he was a no-nonsense fisherman who took pride in his boat. The signs offender care were everywhere. Woodwork gleamed with fresh paint. The deck was scrubbed clean of oil stains. Rust was kept under control. The pilothouse had the latest in fish-finding and naviga- tional equipment.