Breaker

screwed into the floorboarding at the bow. 'It's been hung from davits off the back of a boat at some point. These rings are for attaching the wires before it's winched up tight against the davit arms. That way it doesn't swing about while the host boat's in motion.' He searched the outside of the hull for any sign of a name, but there was none. He looked up at Galbraith, squinting against the setting sun. 'There's no way this dropped off the back of a cruiser without anyone noticing. Both winching wires would have to snap at the same moment, and the chances of that happening would be minimal, I should think. If only one wire snapped-the stern wire, for example-you'd have a heavy object swinging like a pendulum behind you, and your steering would go haywire. At which point you'd slow right down and find out what the problem was.' He paused. 'In any case, if the wires had sheared they'd still be attached to the rings.'

'Go on.'

'I'd say it's more likely it was launched off a trailer, which means we need to ask questions at Swanage, Kimmeridge Bay, or Lulworth.' He stood up and glanced toward the west. 'Unless it came out of Chapman's Pool, of course, and then we need to ask how it got there in the first place. There's no public access, so you can't just pull a trailer down and launch a dinghy for the fun of it.' He rubbed his jaw. 'It's curious, isn't it?'

'Couldn't you carry it down and pump it up in situ?'

'It depends how strong you are. They weigh a ton, these things.' He stretched his arms like a fisherman sizing a fish. 'They come in huge canvas holdalls, but trust me, you need two people to carry them any distance, and it's a good mile from Hill Bottom to the Chapman's Pool slip.'

'What about the boat sheds? The SOCOs took photographs of the whole bay and there are plenty of dinghies parked on the hard standing beside the sheds. Could it be one of those?'

'Only if it was nicked. The fishermen who use the boat sheds wouldn't abandon a perfectly good dinghy. I haven't had any reports of one being stolen, but that might be because no one's noticed it's missing. I can run some checks tomorrow.'

'Joyriders?' suggested Galbraith.

'I doubt it.' Ingram touched his foot to the hull. 'Not unless they fancied the hardest paddle of their life to get it out into the open sea. It couldn't have floated out on its own. The entrance channel's too narrow, and the thrust of the waves would have forced it back onto the rocks in the bay.' He smiled at Galbraith's lack of comprehension. 'You couldn't take it out without an engine,' he explained, 'and your average joyrider doesn't usually bring his own means of locomotion with him. People don't leave outboards lying around any more than they leave gold ingots. They're expensive items, so you keep them under lock and key. That also rules out your pumping up in situ theory. I can't see anyone lugging a dinghy and an outboard down to Chapman's Pool.'

Galbraith eyed him curiously. 'So?'

'I'm thinking on the hoof here, sir.'

'Never mind. It sounds good. Keep going.'

'If it was stolen out of Chapman's Pool, that makes it a premeditated theft. We're talking someone who was prepared to lug a heavy outboard along a mile-long path in order to nick a boat.' He lifted his eyebrows. 'Why would anyone want to do that? And, having done it, why abandon ship? It's a bit bloody odd, don't you think? How did they get back to shore?'

'Swam?'

'Maybe.' Ingram's eyes narrowed to slits against the brilliant orange sun. He didn't speak for several seconds. 'Or maybe they didn't have to,' he said then. 'Maybe they weren't in it.' He lapsed into a thoughtful silence. 'There's nothing wrong with the stern board, so the outboard should have pulled it under as soon as the sides started to deflate.'

'What does that mean?'

'The outboard wasn't on it when it capsized.'

Galbraith waited for him to go on, and when he didn't, he made impatient winding motions with his hand. 'Come on, Nick. What are you getting at? I know sweet FA about boats.'

The big man laughed. 'Sorry. I was just wondering what a dinghy like this was doing in the middle of nowhere without an outboard.'

'I thought you said it must have had one.'

'I've changed my mind.'

Galbraith gave a groan. 'Do you want to stop talking in riddles, you bastard? I'm wet, I'm freezing to death here, and I could do with a drink.'

Ingram laughed again. 'I was only thinking that the most obvious way to take a stolen rib out of Chapman's Pool would be to tow it out, assuming you'd come in by boat in the first place.'

'In which case, why would you want to steal one?'

Ingram stared down at the collapsed hull. 'Because you'd raped a woman and left her half dead in it?' he suggested. 'And you wanted to get rid of the evidence? I think you should get your scene-of-crime people out here to find out why it deflated. If there's a blade puncture, then I'd guess the intention was to have the boat and its contents founder in the open sea when the tow rope was released.'

'So we're back to Harding?'

The constable shrugged. 'He's your only suspect with a boat in the right place at the right time,' he pointed out.

Tony Bridges listened to Steven Harding's interminable tirade against the police with growing irritation. His friend paced the sitting room in a rage, kicking at anything that got in his way and biting Tony's head off every time he tried to offer advice. Meanwhile, Bibi, a silent and frightened observer to their mounting anger, sat cross-legged on the floor at Tony's feet, hiding her feelings behind a curtain of thick blond hair and wondering whether it would make the situation better or worse if she announced her intention of going home.

Finally, Tony's patience snapped. 'Get a grip before I bloody flatten you,' he roared. 'You're acting like a two-year-old. Okay, so the police arrested you. Big deal! Just be grateful they didn't find anything.'