Free Dead Calm by Shirley Wells

offices or just places to meet up with friends and family.” Sigurd smiled, a slow, lazy smile. “Also, it wasn’t terribly lucky as it turned out. We’d set up a meeting with someone but unfortunately the meeting couldn’t take place.”
    “Oh dear. Well, at least you can enjoy your cruise.” He waited but nothing more was forthcoming. “God, I hope your business meeting wasn’t with that poor lady who died?”
    The two men exchanged a glance, but neither confirmed or denied his hunch.
    “It was, wasn’t it?” Dylan said. “What a dreadful shock that was. I didn’t know the woman, obviously, but she was in the cabin next to mine. I spoke to her the night she died. I couldn’t believe it when everyone said she was dead.”
    “An unfortunate business indeed,” Mathias said. “She was elderly, and I gather she had a heart condition, but yes, a terrible shock, especially for her family.”
    “So you were supposed to meet with her?”
    “At her request, yes,” Sigurd said.
    It was difficult to tell if they were being cagey or if Dylan’s overactive imagination was working overtime.
    “How awful.” Dylan shook his head in sympathy with them, and with Hanna Larsen’s family. “I trust it wasn’t important. Oh, wait. When I had that brief chat with her, she mentioned something about a meeting. It was to do with some property, wasn’t it?”
    “She was—how do you say?—very stubborn,” Mathias said. “It’s no big secret that our company tried to buy her land. We want to put a road to our factory through her property and made her several generous offers. We think, although now we’ll never know, of course, that she was finally seeing the wisdom of selling. As I said, she was elderly. She also had family in Tromsø. We think she was beginning to realise that, if she sold her property to us, she could end her life in comfort. She asked us to meet her so we assumed that was the case.”
    “Wow. And now you’ll never know what she intended?”
    “I’m afraid not. What did she say to you? Did she give any indication that she was finally going to sell up?” Mathias’s eyes were a deep intelligent blue that looked as if they could read minds.
    “No, nothing. Sorry.”
    Perhaps that meeting had taken place after all. Maybe the old lady had told them that hell would freeze over before she sold them so much as a square inch of her land. Maybe they’d decided to put an end to negotiations for good.
    “So what will happen now?” Dylan asked.
    “Her lawyer will deal with her estate. The proceeds might go to charity, to her family, who knows? When it is settled, perhaps the new owner will sell to us. We really don’t know, Mr. Scott.”
    “Dylan.”
    “Dylan,” Mathias repeated smoothly as he rose to his feet. “And now, if you’ll excuse us, we have things to attend to. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.”
    Smiling, Sigurd also stood up. Much friendlier than his brother, he shook Dylan’s hand. “Yes, have a good holiday, Dylan. I hope you see the northern lights if that’s what you wish.”
    “My wife has set her heart on it,” Dylan said. “I hate to see her disappointed although I’ve heard the forecast isn’t very promising.”
    “Maybe. Maybe not. The northern lights take people by surprise. They like to have fun. Keep watching the sky, Dylan, and enjoy our country.”
    “Thank you.”
    Dylan watched the two men leave. They didn’t look like killers, but prisons all over the planet were crammed with lifers who didn’t look like killers.

Chapter Thirteen
    Just after ten o’clock that evening, Dylan spotted Mike Lloyd striding out onto the deck for a smoke. Dylan slipped on his coat and ventured out to join him. His body was protected, but the wind tore into his face, making his eyes water and his nostrils sting. A sudden gust rocked him on his heels, causing Lloyd to smirk.
    “At least it’s not snowing. Yet,” Lloyd said.
    “It’s cold enough for it. I suppose it always is