Tobiasson-Svartman thought that Jakobsson knew. Then he understood that it was an innocent question.
'There's nothing there. You can't even get ashore. But I enjoy rowing.'
'It's not something I try to do, not with my hand.'
Tobiasson-Svartman drained his cup of coffee then stood up, went back on deck and climbed down into his launch.
Sub-Lieutenant Welander gave him a clumsy salute. His launch had already cast off.
The rating Tobiasson-Svartman had struck in the face the day before had a swollen lip, but there was no snot hanging from his nostril. He had changed places and now had the oar furthest from the stern thwart It would be harder for Tobiasson-Svartman to reach him there, should he have another fit of rage.
CHAPTER 46
Late that afternoon the Svea appeared on the horizon.
They stopped their work immediately. Tobiasson-Svartman had written up his notes by as early as six o'clock.
He made his way over the gangway that had been set up between the two vessels. Anders Höckert welcomed him aboard. While they were on their way to Captain Rake, he politely asked after Lieutenant Sundfeldt and Artillery Captain von Sidenbahn.
'Von Sidenbahn has done his stint and is back ashore,' Höckert said. 'That's where he prefers to be. He was damned annoyed, having to live on a moving floor. Sundfeldt is asleep – he was on bridge watch yesterday evening. He has an amazing ability to sleep, that man. Some of those who choose a seafaring life dream about being rocked to a sound night's sleep by their ship. I have a theory that says they are really longing for their mothers. So how's the work going?'
'Well.'
Höckert paused and eyed him up and down.
'Well? Neither more nor less? Just "well"?'
'Some things go brilliantly. Other days cause a few problems. Let's say, we're making progress.'
Höckert knocked on the door and opened it before Rake had a chance to respond. Then he stepped aside and vanished down a companionway.
Rake was waiting for him, his jacket unbuttoned.
He held a letter in his hand.
CHAPTER 47
He saw right away that it was from Kristina Tacker.
The handwriting was unmistakable, with marked, fancy flourishes on the capital letters. He would have preferred to leave Rake immediately and return to his cabin to read the letter.
Previously he had been worried because she had not written. Now that had changed and he was anxious to know what the letter said.
Rake picked up the brandy bottle. Tobiasson-Svartman noticed that he was wearing a black armband on his left arm.
Rake saw what he was looking at.
'My mother has died. I'll be going ashore in Kalmar and will hand the ship over to Lieutenant Sundfeldt for a few days while I deal with the funeral.'
'I'm so sorry.'
Rake filled his glass.
'My mother was 102,' Rake said. 'She was born in 1812, so if she had lived in France she might have met Napoleon. Her own mother was born sometime in the 1780s, I forget the exact year. But it was before the French Revolution. When I touched my mother's hand it often occurred to me that I was feeling the skin of somebody who in turn had touched the skin of people born in the eighteenth century. In certain circumstances it's almost incomprehensible how time can shrink.
'But it's hard to mourn a person who is 102 years old. For the last ten years she hasn't known who I was. Sometimes she thought I was her late husband, my own father, that is.
'Extreme age is a spiritual pitched battle fought in the dark. A battle that inevitably ends in defeat. The darkness and degradation of old age is something for which religions have never been able to offer us consolation or a satisfactory explanation.
'But death can come suddenly and unexpectedly even for one so very old. It might seem an odd thing to say, but death always disturbs us no matter when it comes. Although my mother was in spiritual darkness she had a strong will to live. She did not want to die, despite being so old.'
Tobiasson-Svartman made to leave, but Rake was not finished.
'There has been a military confrontation near the Gulf of Riga,' he said. 'Our clever radio operators who listen in to communications between the German and Russian ships and their high commands have been able to confirm the engagement. It happened at the end of last week. One German cruiser was damaged by torpedoes, but was able to limp back to Kiel. Two Russian vessels, a torpedo boat and a troopship, were torpedoed and sank.'
'Is there