Free A Dead Man in Barcelona by Michael Pearce

wait.’
    He spat contemptuously into the sea. ‘The big boats lie offshore. So when I’m out there I just keep a bit further in. But sometimes they’re so close I can hear them talking.’
    ‘Or talk to them?’
    The man gave him a long look.
    ‘Or talk to them,’ he agreed.
    He bundled the net, neatly coiled now, up in his arms, took it across the quay, and dropped it into a boat. Then he walked off up the hill into the houses.
    Seymour watched him go.
    ‘Lockhart liked fish,’ he said.

Chapter Five
    ‘Inspector –?’
    From inside the guardroom at the entrance to the Navy docks came a stifled gasp.
    ‘Seymour from Scotland Yard.’
    ‘Jesus!’ Again from inside.
    The seaman checking Seymour’s papers suddenly looked rattled.
    ‘Excuse me, sir.’
    He dashed into the guardroom.
    Through the open window Seymour could hear concerned discussion. Then:
    ‘Well, you go out, sonny, and ask him who he wants to see.’
    The seaman reappeared. ‘Sorry, sir, just a minor point. I have to check. Who was it you wanted to see?’
    ‘Admiral Comber.’
    An unmistakable ‘Christ!’ came through the open window.
    ‘Yes, sir. I’ll get someone to take you over.’
    He disappeared back into the guardroom. Seymour, left standing there alone, moved over to be nearer the window.
    ‘You’re for it, now, Ferry!’ said a jaunty young voice.
    ‘Christ, they’ve brought the narks in!’ said another, older, coarser voice.
    ‘I wonder why that could be?’ said the young voice innocently. ‘Something to do with the stores, do you think? You’re looking a bit green, Ferry. Are you feeling all right?’
    ‘Yes, sir. Thank you. Sir.’
    ‘Ground moving in the stores, is it? Rough swell? Don’t worry, Ferry, he’ll just want to look at your records. And see how they match up to the stores on the shelves. That should be no problem, should it? Ferry, you really are looking rather green. Were you thinking of reporting sick, by any chance?’
    ‘As a matter of fact, sir –’
    ‘I’d hang on a bit if I were you,’ continued the voice mercilessly. ‘You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, do you?’
    ‘No, sir.’
    ‘He won’t be bothered by a few discrepancies, anyway.’
    ‘That’s right, mate,’ the coarser voice chipped in encouragingly. ‘Small things are not going to bother him.’
    ‘It’s the big things he’d be looking for,’ said the jaunty one. ‘Just big things. Ferry, you are looking a bit off-colour. I’ll see if I can get something done about the heat in the stores. That is the problem, isn’t it?’
    ‘A bit hot, sir, yes. Just at the moment.’
    ‘Don’t worry, mate. He won’t know if things are shipshape or if they’re not!’
    ‘And they will be shipshape, won’t they?’ continued the merciless one, who seemed to be some sort of superior. ‘By the time he gets there? I think if I were you, Ferry, I’d get along to the stores pretty smartish.’
    ‘Yes, sir, I will, sir. If you don’t mind –’
    ‘Sir, he’s still waiting outside,’ said the seaman who had been checking Seymour’s papers.
    ‘Thank you, Parsons. We’d better get someone to take him over. In fact, I’ll take him over myself.’
    The seaman came out, accompanied by a midshipman who looked about fifteen years old. He put out a hand.
    ‘Hello, Mr Seymour. I’m McPhail. The Duty Officer just at the moment. I’ll take you over to see the comber eel right away.’
    ‘Comber eel?’
    ‘That’s what we call him. The Admiral. But that’s unofficially. Nice to meet you, Inspector. Are you going to help us solve our problems?’
    ‘I doubt it,’ said Seymour.
    The midshipman laughed. ‘Well, we start level, then. Because I don’t think we’re going to solve them, either.’
    The seaman raised the bar which had been across the entrance.
    ‘Sorry about all this,’ said McPhail. ‘It’s not as if someone’s going to come in and pinch a ship.’
    ‘Where are the ships?’
    ‘Mostly out at