“I think I will head down to McNeill’s for a bit,” I told Shay as we walked along to our hotel. “Want to come along?”
He pulled a face. “To a noisy little pub full of tipsy gawkers and off-duty cops? No thanks. A shower and a nice meal in will do me just fine.” I’d have been extremely surprised if he’d said yes. Shay didn’t enjoy being in packed out small spaces much, especially if nearly everyone in them was a stranger to him.
As we walked into our hotel, a young man sprang up from the chair in the lobby where he’d been waiting for us. It was Alejandro, the athletic Spanish student from the Kværnen.
“Mr Keane!” He hurried over and thrust an envelope at Shay, “For you, please.”
Shay took it from him and removed a creamy, gilt-edged correspondence card. Good grief! It even had an embossed monogram on it.
“Nice calligraphy. What does it say?” Mads Nielsen had written it, however stylishly, in Danish.
“Herre Nielsen requests the pleasure of my company for cocktails and dinner at eight.” Shay frowned at the card. “I thought he’d given up on that whole recruiting idea.” I was damned sure he had.
“Still,” my cousin allowed thoughtfully, “it might be interesting. I wouldn’t mind having a look around that boat of his either. A round-the-clock engineering team? I wonder what sort of equipment she’s carrying. They’ll be mapping the seafloor wherever they go, of course.”
Would they? The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. Seeing my expression, Shay just shook his head at me sadly.
“Oh, come on, Con, the dad’s a shipping magnate. He’d want his own boat to do at least that much. All their vessels will be uploading constant updates on shifting sand bars and undersea disturbances... but I am curious what else they might be up to. Denmark has some exciting plans in the works for more offshore wind farms in the North Atlantic.” His enthusiasm and curiosity seemed to be growing rapidly. “I wonder if Nielsen International is getting in on that? The Danes are talking about building some big artificial islands out there and producing biofuel for the shipping too. Did you know Denmark plan to end all their oil production by 2050?”
No, I hadn’t known any of that, but I wasn’t surprised that he did. Most of my cousin’s investments were in renewable energy companies.
Well, Shay could certainly look after himself. Besides, however keen Mads Nielsen might be to see if he could get my cousin into bed with him, I was sure the man had too much class to do anything crass. After all, as Shay himself had pointed out, it wasn’t as if Nielsen didn’t have plenty of available options on tap. I didn’t think he had any chance of succeeding either. It looked to me like Shay was planning to spend the whole evening peppering him with questions and checking out the tech. Sex, as usual, would be the last thing on his mind. Besides, on the rare occasions that Shay did choose to indulge in that kind of exercise, it was nearly always with a girl. The vast majority of people were ‘barking up the wrong tree’ with him, as far as he was concerned.
If he wasn’t interested, he wasn’t interested.
Alejandro was waiting expectantly, so Shay pulled out a pen and scribbled something on the back of the card before handing it back and gabbling off a mouthful of rapid Spanish. Alejandro grinned, replied and scurried off hurriedly.
“Let’s see how well Herre Nielsen does at providing a decent vegetarian meal on such short notice.” Shay smirked as we headed upstairs. “Still, I could always raid his stores and mix myself up something if it’s a total disaster.”
“He might just order something in for you.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” he said confidently. “I could order my own plebby take out if I wanted one. Besides, that’s not a classy enough move for his type.”
Either way, it looked as if we both had plans for the evening after all.
Nineteen
I popped in on Shay before leaving. He’d already showered but hadn’t got around to dressing yet and was lounging damply at the desk in a hotel bathrobe. Unlike him, I still had to grab something to eat before going to McNeill’s, but even so, I thought he was pushing it a bit.
“Jordan’s still offline,” Shay informed me as he turned around. “I’ll keep an eye on his mum’s and sisters’ account for now. You never know, he might reach out to them sometime soon. I’ve shut nearly everything else down, though.”
He inspected me approvingly. I’d brought along one pair of black jeans and a nice, plaid wool shirt that he’d got me for Christmas a couple of years back. I loved that shirt, but I didn’t want to even try to guess what he might have paid for it. When it came to clothing, my cousin had great but very expensive taste. He thankfully refrained from commenting on the fact that I’d chosen to wear it tonight. I knew he knew I was half hoping Annie MacLeod might show up at McNeill’s. I might not have bothered shaving again otherwise. There had been an unmistakable little moment of mutual interest there earlier, and I wouldn’t mind a chance to meet up socially and get to know her better.
“Glad to hear it.” Why was he even messing around with his laptop now? There was no point in continuing to check on local webcam footage, or most of his other feelers. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about getting ready?”
“That’ll take all of five minutes. I’ve got plenty of time. Have you decided where you’re going to eat yet?”
“Yeah, I’m just going to pop in at the chippy. I haven’t had a nice bit of chip shop haddock for ages.” To each their own, he barely winced at the thought of it.
“Alright, then. Say hi to Ewan for me. Annie too,
