The Atlas Murders (46 page)

“Fair enough wind, I’ll just
let her run on another mile before altering course and setting our sail.”

She went below again and came
back with two mugs of tea.

 “Sorry no cakes, they’re
still packed away in the stores somewhere.”

 “That’s ok; too much sweet
stuff isn’t good for you anyway.”

 She grinned.

 “Aye-aye sir, now starboard
helm and steady on zero nine three.”

“Zero nine three,” he
repeated, and as the yacht swung around he steadied her on course.

 “We’re on zero nine three
now.”

 “Thank you. Now fix the
wheel and come help me set the sails.”

 With sails set, the Witch
was soon lying over to a firm breeze.

“Knock off the engine while I
steady her on course.”

 Kerstin brought her up and
she settled to her easterly course like a swallow gliding across the waves.

 They sailed watch on watch
off for two days making about five knots, and rounded Cape Beata as an orange
sky turned to crimson away to the west. Kerstin altered course and set straight
for Santo Domingo.

 “We should be there before
noon. What have you drummed up for dinner?”

 Henry stood looking at the
faint flashes from the lighthouse as it slipped away to stern.

“Do you think she’ll hold
course if you come and eat with me?”

 “Yes, she’s holding fine.”

He had cooked a fish pie made
from a tuna caught earlier that morning.

“It’s absolutely scrumptious,”
she pronounced, and then the thought struck her and she spluttered a laugh.

 “I now have two scrumptious
things on board. How would I say, one edible and the other not quite.”

 She smiled between mouthfuls
of the pie.

“Only partly edible the
second one, but probably tastier than the first.”

 He leaned over and held a
large spoonful of pie over her plate, “second helping?”

“Please, it really is
delicious. The only thing is, a lot of fish makes me horny. How about you, much
the same I suppose?”

 “Yes,” he laughed, “and I’m
definitely having seconds!”

 She poured cold apple juice
into the chilled glasses.

 “Tell me Henry, and I hope
I’m not prying; were you ever married or in a long-term relationship?”

 Before responding, he
carried on eating as if he hadn’t heard her.

“To say you’re not prying is
an understatement, but I’d like to tell you anyway if it’s not too boring.”

 “Go on, I’m all ears and
full of curiosity like a very curious cat!”

 He started with his early
life after Shirley’s murder and related most of the affairs he’d had.

 “Why didn’t you take up with
Vera, she seemed a type of soul mate?”

 “I think her broken heart
never mended and beneath the facade she never really wanted to commit herself
to love again.”

 “It’s more than surprising
that an eligible chap like you never got into a serious relationship.”

 “I suppose it was a state of
mind more than not meeting the right person. I’ve probably met a lot of very
right women but failed to recognize the signs.”

 Kerstin stood up to get the
coffee from the stove and leaned over his shoulder and kissed him on the cheek.

“When this chapter of your
life is complete you will live life with a happier perspective. Do you know you
talk in your sleep?”

He sat up straight somewhat
startled.

 “No, I never knew that.”

 “I only heard you a couple
of times but you sounded tense and worried. What you were saying was a bit
mumbled but next time I’ll listen a little closer and try to understand what
you’re saying.”

 “I hope I don’t give away
any personal secrets, not that I have many anyway!”

She sat on the couch beside
him and sipped her coffee. Henry laid a hand on her wrist and she turned and
looked into his soulful eyes.

 “Your turn now. Why hasn’t a
beautiful girl, and I don’t say that lightly, been married, or have you loved
and lost?”

 She cuddled up to him.

Did I mention that my mother
is Swedish?” she said, trying to evade his searching questions.

“No.”

“She met my father who’s
English and I was raise in England,” she hesitated, “but do you really want to
bore yourself listening to my life story?

 “Come on now, and don’t
leave out the good bits; I’m sure it’s anything but boring.”

 She laughed

“Of course I won’t, the good
bits are the only ones worth hearing about! You know Henry I have a theory
about love. I believe when you love someone you have to love the whole package.
You just for instance can’t love a beautiful face, two firm boobs and a shapely
figure. That just will not last. The little idiosyncrasies will creep in and
the annoying habits that irritate you they can be numerous. I should know, I’ve
had quite a lot of men, particularly when I was younger. I won’t say I haven’t
had my moments and illusions, but I’ve always come out the end more knowing and
wiser about the human condition than when I began an affair. I suppose like you
I had a derailing process when I was young and impressionable and it took a
toll that with me has no real end. You see, when I was eighteen I had a burst
appendix and I was lucky to live, but the surgeon who operated and saved my
life informed me when I went back for a check-up that my ovaries were so
damaged that it was unlikely I would never have children. I sought further
medical opinion and to my utter devastation, it was confirmed that I could
never be a natural mother.”

 Henry looked at her with a
profound sympathy. A young girl loving and caring. Falling in love but having
to tell the man the truth before they got into a serious relationship. It was
heart-rending to say the least, he thought.

“It must have been extremely
hard on your love life, and difficult to contemplate a long term relationship.”

 “Yes,” she smiled, so what
did I do? I’ll tell you; I became the college whore! I was the easiest lay
around, and I began to get good with all the practice. I had sympathy from my roommate;
she was also a source of comfort during this time of trauma caused by my distorted
view of life. Then her comfort blossomed into a relationship and I responded
and we found solace in one another’s arms. It was a strange time and when I
look back on it now it seems like a dream, but I suppose it served a purpose at
the time - a healing process. After we broke up the thought of a female
relationship never again arose in my mind. I’m really heterosexual and happy with
it. When college term ended, disillusioned and feeling all alone, I signed on a
yacht that summer. We sailed to the Canaries and when it was time to sail home
I decided to stay. So began my life as a sea gypsy.”

 “Do you ever make it home to
visit your family?”

 She put an arm around his
shoulder and gave him a peck on the cheek. “You know you are like a concerned
father. I do get home at least once a year and often spend up to two months
with my parents.”

 “What do they say about your
choice of career?”

 “They’ve long given up
asking me to stay at home, get a responsible job and live like a normal person,”

She threw back her hair and
turning to Henry, her face close up to his, she said, “do you think I’m a
normal person?”

 He kissed her on the nose.

 “You come across as the most
stable, happy and normal person I’ve met in my life. I can say that even though
I’ve only known you a short time. I’ve been living and working with people for
forty years and can only now see what a false dreary and pathetic life most of
them lead. They do the same things day-in-day-out and only break the monotony
with an annual vacation among a crowd of their own kind on crowded beaches and
noisy hotel apartments. This helps keep them sane; along with planning their
next excursion to Costa del Nowhere!”

 She stood up and switched on
a light and started taking the dinner plates to wash.

 “I won’t say I didn’t meet
some men who wanted to stay in a lasting relationship, even after hearing of my
dysfunctional ovaries, but I didn’t find them suitable. The latest affair was
Scott, the man who helped you purchase the yacht. We were close for a six month
period as we sailed on a chartered yacht around the islands. It turned out
Scott was a secret drinker and we nearly had a bad accident one night when he
was on watch. He fell asleep and we ran aground on a sand bank. We were lucky
to re-float her without any serious damage. You see Henry, she was a 750,000 dollar
yacht, and the owners weren’t too pleased, so Scott was paid off in our next
port of call. I tried to help him get off the bottle. Then he told me about his
experience in the 1979 Fastnet yacht race; they were battered by force ten
winds and eventually the yacht sank and they were adrift in the life raft for
24 hours before being picked up by an Irish trawler. He lost his nerve after
this and took to the bottle. He didn’t sail for some years. Then I met him and
tried to get him back on track and persuaded him to join the yacht with me, he
did but secretly went back on the drink. Then after the incident of the
grounding he hasn’t been back to sea again. He’s happier ashore and is eking
out a living selling and chartering boats, but even if he’d stayed sober and
had a decent job, I would never have stayed with him. All things considered, he
just wasn’t my type, so I was glad to call it a day.”

She stopped still and held a
plate in her hand tilting her head to listen.

“I think the wind has dropped
we’re not making any headway.”

 Henry went up on deck and
looked up at the sails hanging loose; the sea was flat calm. A lighthouse was
flashing astern and he saw a moon pushing over the lip of ocean, her orange
dome casting a river of pale gold. He felt a thrill at the beauty of such a
scene. Yes, he thought, a painted ship upon a painted ocean.

 Kerstin came to stand
alongside him; her closeness was almost intoxicating as she held his hand. “It’s
so beautiful, I feel privileged to be witness to such a wonderful scene.”

 Henry squeezed her hand.

 “I’m so happy it feels
immoral. It’s like no one should be as happy as this.”

 She rested her head against
him.

 “You deserve all the
happiness you can get and I’m so pleased for you because you’re making me happy.”

 The wind picked up at around
zero two hundred on Henry’s watch, and she lay over to starboard gliding swan-like
through the sparkling water. They were at the entrance to Santo Domingo before
noon and sailed up the Ozama River, tying up at the quay near the center of the
old city.

 “I’m official guide. I’ve
been around this city on a few occasions, so allow me.”

Henry followed her below and
giving her a playful slap on her voluptuous rear he said, “I’m in your capable
hands; we’ll lunch ashore if it’s ok with you?”

She was changing out of her
shorts and t-shirt. “Perfectly my dear, I know a very nice place not too far
from here.”

 As they steered a brisk
course, walking up to the town, Kerstin related some of the colorful history of
Santo Domingo.

 “This is the oldest city in
the new western world. It was headquarters for Columbus’s men and the settlers
that followed. They settled here and governed the whole island including Haiti
at the time. Now, here we are in Columbus Square so we’ll have lunch in one of
the eateries lining the square.”

It was idyllic sitting under
the sunshade eating fresh shellfish, washing it down with chilled beer. Henry
took in the splendor of the old Spanish style buildings, and the people of all colors
and creed; some shopping and others sitting relaxed under the colorful
sunshades eating or sipping drinks. The tourists were easily recognizable with
their sunshades and cameras. The local men were dressed in immaculate light colored
clothing, the women in large hats and loose, light cheerfully colored dresses.

Henry looked at her child-like,
not wanting anything to disturb this tranquil transom of time. After a while,
they finished their beers and were ready to explore further.

 “We’ll leave the business of
our search until tomorrow if you agree?”

 “Fine with me, I have a lot
to show you and the day is still young.”

 They moved on through
Columbus Square and visited the cathedral. The exterior was impressive but the
interior was absolutely magnificent. They walked in silence into the building,
down the nave and up to the altar. They both instinctively knelt down and
prayed and a peace that was tangible seemed to envelope them in a comforting
embrace. Kerstin turned to find Henry facing her; his clear blue eyes delved
her very soul and her eyes reflected the somber azure hues.

Getting to their feet, she
held his hand and they walked around gazing at statues hanging on the walls. The
stations of Christ’s crucifixion were laid out in story type pictures. The big colored
lead glass windows depicting scenes from the bible threw kaleidoscope color
along the floor and pews. Henry turned back at the door to look down the nave
and view the great altar again. He spoke silently to Shirley and Katherine.
Please help me. I know you are looking down, your love is all around this holy
place.