Detective Brad Morrissey was about forty, solid and steady, blunt and, apparently, bluntly honest. He had an iron-gray crew cut, jowls and sad eyes, and though Newport, Rhode Island, wasn’t particularly known for being a hot spot of violent crime, Morrissey had the look of a man who’d been around.
“I’m telling you,” Morrissey was telling Sean now, as Zach sat nearby and listened, “we’ve tried. Coast Guard found the boat out there—she was drifting in Narragansett Bay, almost out into Rhode Island Sound, but nothing whatsoever was amiss. We checked the charter office, and Eddie Ray had left the books neat and clean. There was a notation with the passenger’s name and reservation time, and another that he’d paid cash. A single passenger, Mr. John Alden. The boat was towed in, and I inspected her with some techs from the crime lab. We dusted for prints and found dozens of them—mostly partials, and mostly, from what we’ve discovered so far, belonging to Eddie Ray, or other members of your staff and family. We’re still sifting through them, but I’m not hopeful for much. It’s winter. Whoever Mr. John Alden was, he probably wore gloves. The weather’s been pretty warm for December, but even during a mild winter, you know as well I do, it’s cold out there on the water.” Morrissey sat with his hands folded in his lap as he spoke, addressing Sean, but looking at Zach on occasion, as if seeking confirmation.
Zach knew what the police and he himself were up against. Eddie Ray had gone missing from a charter boat. Clean as the boats might be kept, there were probably prints left over from the last several excursions, and many of the prints that were there were also likely to be smudged.
“There was absolutely no sign of a struggle of any kind?” Zach asked.
“No, I swear. I looked the boat over myself,” Morrissey said. “Not a thing overturned, not a thing that appeared to be out of place. It was as if both Eddie and his passenger simply vanished.”
“And there’s been no sign of either one since?” Zach asked.
“No sign at all,” Morrissey replied. “We haven’t had a single call on the hotline—although it doesn’t help that we don’t know what Alden looks like or even if that’s his real name.”
Morrissey was being patient; Zach had to grant him that. He’d clearly been over all this before, but he was willing to sit through the questions again, to explain everything his department had done, no matter how many times he was asked. It was evident he was frustrated himself by the lack of progress in the case, and perhaps that made him more willing to understand incredulity and frustration in others.
He shook his head then, a flash of his frustration showing.
“Not a single sign,” he said again. “It’s like they carried a couple of cinder blocks out there, tied a rope around them and sank themselves. I’ve had police divers down there, and they haven’t found a thing, but it’s a big bay, and they could be anywhere. I wish to God I had more to tell you. I wish I had an answer. But I don’t.”
“And you’ve given up already,” Sean said, anger and bitterness in his tone.
Zach held silent. Morrissey hadn’t given up; he seemed to be the dogged kind of policeman who never gave up, but who didn’t go off in passionate rages, either. Sean, on the other hand, was emotionally involved and couldn’t keep himself from showing it, which was perfectly understandable.
“No, sir, we have not given up,” Morrissey said firmly. “We have followed every lead. The problem is, those leads dried up quickly, and so far we haven’t found any others.”
“I’ll go down and take a look at the boat, Sean,” Zach said, then turned to Morrissey. “I know the boats and the family. If there’s anything amiss, something subtle that someone else might not see, it’s just possible that I will.”
“Fine with me. Cal and his wife were out, and your daughter, too, Mr. O’Riley. They’ve taken a look around, as I’m sure you know. We don’t mind help, and we don’t mind being wrong. But don’t think that we give up easily. We don’t.”
Morrissey, with his short iron-gray hair and weary bulldog face, turned to Zach. “The boat is back at the wharf. There’s still crime tape around it, but I’ll go over with you.”
There was a tap on the door, and Sean barked, “Come in.”
Kat entered the room. “Dad, Caer says it’s time for your medicine. And that she needs to take your blood pressure.” She glanced at Morrissey with a hopeful smile.
“Sorry, nothing new. And I was just getting ready to leave,” he said.
“And I’ll be going with him,” Zach announced, rising.
“Where?” Kat asked.
“To the boat,” Zach told her briefly.
She studied him gravely, and then, to his surprise, she almost smiled. “Take Caer with you.”
“Kat, I’m going out there to—”