The Sound of Whales by Kerr Thomson Page B

alone and miserable. He was alone and Jonah was dead.
    â€˜Jonah’s alive,’ said a voice.
    He turned and Hayley was beside him, panting slightly, eyes shining.
    â€˜Jonah’s alive,’ she said again. ‘I saw him by the harbour, hiding behind the wall. It was definitely Jonah, there’s no mistaking him, I know it was him, definitely him  . . . ’
    â€˜Whoa!’ Fraser held up his hand. ‘Hayley, take a breath.’
    The girl took a deep lungful and said quietly, ‘It was Jonah.’
    â€˜Are you sure?’
    â€˜I saw him.’
    â€˜But we saw him, dead on the beach.’
    â€˜No, we didn’t. His face was buried in the sand.’
    â€˜But how many Africans are there in Skulavaig?’
    â€˜At least two.’
    â€˜So who is the dead guy?’
    Hayley shrugged. ‘It can’t be coincidence that there are two unexplained black men in Skulavaig at the same time.’
    â€˜I knew Ben wasn’t a murderer.’
    â€˜Well, someone is still dead.’
    In the clamour of voices and laughter and clinking glasses Fraser thought he could hear his heart thump against his ribs. He had helped Jonah, fed him, trusted him. Was Jonah the murderer?
    â€˜We have to go to the police,’ Hayley said.
    â€˜We can’t.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    â€˜Because we might be accomplices to murder.’
    â€˜Hardly.’
    â€˜No? I helped hide a man and gave him food and clothes. Now he may have murdered someone. And I was on Ben’s boat; I knew where he kept that knife and now it’s under my bed.’ Fraser gave a long sigh. ‘I think we’re in trouble.’
    â€˜Less of the we . It’s not my sweatshirt and socks he’s wearing.’
    â€˜No, but you were with him on the beach last night. And you found the body and told no one except me.’
    The colour drained from Hayley’s face. ‘What do we do?’
    â€˜We find Jonah.’
    â€˜And then what?’
    â€˜Get some answers.’
    â€˜Is that before or after he stabs us?’
    â€˜I have the knife.’
    â€˜That’s OK, then. After all, he’s only a large grown man. No match for a girl and a skinny Scottish boy.’
    He thought himself toned not skinny, but this was not the time to argue. ‘Why is Jonah sneaking around the harbour? Why not lie low in his cave?’
    â€˜Maybe he hasn’t finished his murderous rampage yet. Maybe he’s looking for anyone who knows he’s on the island.’
    â€˜This is Nin, not Texas. We don’t do serial killers on Nin.’
    â€˜We have to go to the police.’
    â€˜No, not yet. We’ll end up in jail and Jonah will disappear.’
    â€˜What then? We have to tell someone.’
    â€˜No. We have to sort out this mess ourselves.’
    â€˜And how do we do that?’
    â€˜I told you, we find Jonah.’
    â€˜That’s the worst idea. That’s like those horror movies when someone goes into a dark basement by themself to investigate a strange noise and you’re thinking, No one would do that . That’s you, Fraser. You’re looking for trouble.’
    Trouble is already here , Fraser thought. In the last few years Nin had become an island that people left, but recently five people had arrived: Ben, Hayley, her mom, Jonah and the dead man. All of them brought secrets and mysteries to his small town and all of them seemed connected to each other, through him .
    Fraser felt as if he was standing in the eye of a perfect storm, the furious wind spinning around him, destroying his calm life. And that was fine; calm meant boring. He liked this furious wind that blew in strangers and dangers. The thrill of it made his whole body tingle.
    â€˜Come on,’ he said to Hayley over his shoulder as the ceilidh band retook their positions. He heard the American girl mutter, ‘Not in this lifetime,’ as he dived through the door out into