body of a man she had shot in the head. ‘The sea’s inhospitality has grown on me,’ she said, ‘let’s put it that way. It doesn’t pretend to be anything it’s not.’ Again Eoin raised an eyebrow. ‘You sound like a proper old salt. And you’re right, you know. The sea can be a mean old bitch, but she makes no bones about it. A shark is a shark, my old captain used to say.’
