Chapter Two
JIRO STOOD BEHIND the tall cop, fuming, as he listened to the captain of the cruise ship answer his questions.
“The passengers have been warned time and again that if they are late for an embarkation, we will not wait for them. They also know they are free to join us at the next stop if they would like.” Captain Charbel Germain stood with his hands behind his back, only half concentrating on what they were saying.
The rest of his focus was directed out of the large windows toward the activity on the dock below.
He was clean-shaven, younger than Jiro thought a captain of such a large ship would be, but stoney-faced, with hard glittering eyes the color of a glacier below the peak of his snow-white captain’s hat.
Jiro hadn’t liked the look of him the moment they stepped onto the bridge; he knew he would get no sympathy from this man, but it rankled him nonetheless.
“That’s just not bloody well good enough.
” The words exploded from Jiro’s mouth before he could stop them, frustration getting the better of him as he stepped around the inspector to stand face-to-face with the captain.
“An old man is missing out in the freezing snow and ice and all you can do is shrug your shoulders and say, See you at the next port?”
Captain Germain had the sense to let concern furrow his brow as he turned to face Jiro, finally giving him his full attention.
“I’m not saying that I am not worried about your father,” he replied.
“But we have rules in place. I have two-hundred other passengers I have to think about. And unless it is something like a death on board, I’m bound to stick to my schedule. ”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You could change the bloody schedule if you wanted to.
You’re the bloody captain.” Jiro knew this was true, but he also knew he was being harsh.
A missing passenger wasn’t the captain’s problem, not really.
And what he said about having a duty toward the other passengers was also true.
It didn’t mean he had to like it, however.
And it also didn’t mean that the captain wasn’t an egotistical prick.
“This is bullshit,” he repeated, but the heat had gone out of his words, and it was more a case of sheer defeat than thinking he could sway the captain to his cause.
Up until this point, Jiro had been enjoying the cruise immensely.
Even the name of the boat was impressive, Le Commandant Charcot, named after a French polar scientist. His father had chosen this cruise because it was something he’d wanted to do all his life, and he couldn’t hold back his excitement as they’d walked up the gangplank to board the ship on that first day.
“This boat is the world’s first luxury polar exploration vessel.
It’s capable of sailing into the heart of the ice.
It can go where other ships just can’t.” His father had almost done a little skip of joy.
It was the first time in as long as Jiro could remember that the sensible frown that always weighed down his father’s face was replaced by a smile.
Jiro had decided it was a good omen for the trip.
They’d had five days of enjoyment, a sort of détente really, and Jiro had begun to lose his wariness around his father, dropping the emotional shield he’d held in place for so long.
Now, it seemed like he’d been wrong. Dead wrong.
Rather, he should’ve seen his father’s out-of-character upbeat mood as a bad omen, not a good one.
Perhaps he should’ve realized on the day they boarded something else was going on.
“Hmm, I know, Papa, you’ve told me all this before,” Jiro had replied with a good-natured smile.
And didn’t he know it? Once he’d agreed to the cruise, his father had been like a child waiting for Santa to come, bombarding him with phone calls and emails about the various activities they could do and the amazing things they would see.
His father had used the strongest motivator he knew—guilt—to get him to agree, telling him that the trip was to celebrate his upcoming seventieth birthday, as well as a Christmas present to himself, and it was the one thing he wanted to do before he died.
He was desperate for his youngest son to accompany him, but had been a little vague on the reasons why.
When Jiro had asked why his older brother, Taro, wasn’t also invited, he was met with more vague replies.
Taro was too busy expanding another new business enterprise.
Of course, the golden boy was too busy. Papa thought the sun shone out of Taro’s ass, and he’d never been able to see past Taro’s charm defensive and his flashy lifestyle to the dark underbelly beneath.
Jiro knew his older brother wasn’t the perfect son Kenichi thought he was, but his father refused to hear his words of caution, instead trying to push Jiro to take up a position in Taro’s ever-expanding company; to be more like his older brother.
So Jiro had stopped bringing up the subject many years ago, instead choosing to follow his own dreams of working in animal conservation and moving to San Diego to get away from it all.
The unusual contact with his father had been surprising at first—Jiro rarely heard from his father under normal circumstances.
But ever since Jiro had agreed to go on the cruise, it was as if Kenichi was a different man.
Perhaps age was finally getting the better of him.
Perhaps he was finally mellowing after all these years.
But Jiro had decided that he wouldn’t take anything for granted. And it seemed he’d been right not to.
“They have a team of specialists on board,” his papa had continued as they climbed the gangplank.
“Scientists who will give lectures about the areas we sail through. We can learn more about the ocean. More about the environment.” Jiro had to admit he was nearly as excited about that part of the cruise as his father.
He was eager to learn more about this Nordic country too, its habitats and ecosystems, both marine and land-based.
It was one reason Jiro had decided to overcome his skepticism and accompany his father on this trip, to find out more about this fascinating destination.
Perhaps this time his father would be so distracted by the beauty of the place that he’d forget all about the constant reproofs, forget how much Jiro disappointed him on a daily basis.
And for the past five days Kenichi had indeed been a changed man, exclaiming with delight over the dolphins as they frolicked at the bow of the ship and tipping his head back in awe to watch the amazing lights of the aurora borealis washing the night sky with green and blue as they watched from the special viewing platform on the top level of the boat.
That was until last night, when the stern, uncompromising father he knew had returned with a vengeance.
Jiro was still to understand what had caused the transformation; all he knew was that Kenichi had received a phone call while they’d been sitting at dinner.
He’d stood up and left the table to take the call, but the second he returned, Jiro could see the dark mood written all over his face.
He refused to talk about it, and so they had spent the rest of the night eating in silence, until Jiro had excused himself and gone back to his cabin alone.
His father had been no better this morning, a scowl on his face even as Jiro collected him from his cabin to join the tour out to the reindeer farm.
And Jiro had known he would have to endure this tour with a fake smile and gritted teeth.
The inspector moved in closer behind Jiro, jolting him back to the present.
“We understand you have rules you need to follow,” he said, taking over the conversation again.
What was his name? Inspector Viskten, or something like that.
Jiro preferred the young constable. She seemed much more sympathetic to his situation.
And a whole heap better looking too. Not that he’d had much headspace to contemplate more than the fact his father was gone.
But the small, red-blooded male part of him that wasn’t all-consumed with finding his papa still noticed her.
As soon as he’d approached the front desk, even while he was still struggling to breathe, he was aware of her big, brown eyes, almost too large for her face.
Dark auburn hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck, but with a few fetching wisps left to drift free around her heart-shaped face.
A slightly pouty mouth, and a cute way she had of tilting her head slightly to one side as she listened to him while she took notes.
“I presume you have no problem with our team searching the ship, then?” The inspector asked briskly.
“Not at all.” The captain lifted his chin and squared his already square shoulders. “But my crew have already done that, and they have found nothing.”
“Good. I presume you will also allow us entrance to all the restricted areas as well?” Viskten said, already turning on his heel and indicating the constable and himself to precede him out of the room.
“Yes, of course.” The captain replied with more than a hint of irritation.
The cop was clearly getting under his skin, but at least he couldn’t brush him off as easily as he had done to Jiro.
“I need you to disembark the boat no later than five p.m. sharp,” Germain said to their disappearing backs.
“We leave port at five-thirty, and you cannot be on the ship when we do so.”
Jiro got the feeling neither of the cops liked the captain any better than he did as no one bothered to reply as they marched down the steps leading away from the bridge.