Tom Ridley

Tom Ridley was seventeen and was fixing an outboard motor on the lower jetty when they found him. He had the look of someone who worked outside in all weather, slightly squinting even when the sun was not in his eyes, and he listened to Sera's questions with the guarded expression of someone who had already worked out where this was going.

"I talked to the police yesterday," he said. "I told them everything I know."

"Which was what?" Sera asked.

"That I fixed the camera last month. Routine maintenance. Anyone could have looked up the maintenance schedule and known I had the access codes."

"But not everyone had coffee with Mr. Calloway," Ned said.

Tom Ridley put down his wrench. He looked at Ned with the expression adults used when a child said something they had not expected, which was a mixture of surprise and slight irritation at being surprised.

"He was just someone who talked to me at the harbour," Tom said. "Older bloke, friendly. We talked about boats. That is what people do here. They talk about boats."

"What did he want to know about boats?" Sera asked.

"General stuff. The harbour. How long boats had been here. Which ones were local, which were visitors." He paused. "He asked about the Marianne once. Said it was a beautiful boat, asked how old it was."

"He asked specifically about the Marianne," Sera said. She kept her voice level. This was important. If Tom Ridley felt accused he would stop talking and she needed him to keep talking.

"Not specifically," Tom said, but his voice had gone slightly careful. "He asked about a few boats. He liked old boats. He said he was a collector."

"A collector," Ned said. "Of boats."

"Some people are," Tom said.

"And you told him about the Marianne," Sera said. "When it came in, how long it was staying, which mooring."

"I told him what anyone could find on the harbour board," Tom said. His jaw was tight. "Which is public information."

"The camera access codes are not public information," Sera said.

The lower jetty was quiet except for the water against the pilings and the distant sound of a boat somewhere in the channel. Tom Ridley looked at the outboard motor and then at Sera and then at the water.

"I did not give anyone my codes," he said. "I want to be very clear about that."

"But someone used them," Sera said. "Or something like them. The camera did not malfunction. It was disabled and then re-enabled. That requires access."

Tom Ridley said nothing for a long time.

"He asked me once," Tom said quietly. "What the codes looked like. Whether they were long or short. I said four digits. He said oh, like mine, and I said yes, four digits, default format. That is all I said. I did not give him the code."

"But he knew it was four digits and default format," Ned said. "Default harbour camera codes. That is probably a short list to try."

Tom Ridley picked up his wrench again. "I did not steal your boat," he said. "I want you to know that."

"I believe you," Sera said. And she did. "But you helped someone who did. Even if you did not know it."

She left him sitting with that and walked back up the jetty with Ned.

She felt bad about it for approximately thirty seconds. Then she thought about the cut mooring rope hanging in the water and the camera gap and her grandfather's handwriting in the logbook and she stopped feeling bad about it.