Author's note: I went to Iceland and Greenland last year. This story has been waiting on my list of ideas ever since.

It was nearly midnight when they flew in over the sea towards Nuuk, but it was as light as an English afternoon. As the plane circled over the fjord, Barbara was stuck by the sapphire beauty of the water. The land looked dry and barren. The smooth grey rocks were pitted with pockets of white ice. New apartments, painted in bright Nordic colours sat on one side of a bay. Big windows glinted gold in the low setting sun, highlighting the reds, greens and blues of the tall blocks. On the other side of the bay, row upon neat row of small boats formed an enormous marina.

"How many people live here?"

"About 55,000," Tommy replied.

"There are more boats than people."

"Well they are fishermen. It's their biggest industry." Tommy leant across her to look out of the small plane window. His hair brushed her face. A citrusy woodiness filled her senses. She tried hard not to sigh. He moved back too soon. "What did you say the name of the policeman meeting us is?"

"Kulloq Knudsen and somebody Petersen is flying over tomorrow from Copenhagen."

"Somebody?"

"Guthrie told me the name three times but I couldn't understand him. I didn't dare ask a fourth time."

Tommy smiled at her. "I see."

The plane landed smoothly and sped along the runway. Barbara waited for it to slow. "Why is it going so fast?"

"In case birds fly across and they have to take off again. Apparently it happens a lot."

"Great."

The plane taxied to the small, modern airport building, a non-descript concrete block. A large man was holding up a sign that read 'Havers'. It felt odd, but good, to be the main character and have Tommy trailing her for once.

She approached the burly man. His suntanned, leathery skin made him look much older than she suspected he was. With a square face, black eyes, and a gappy grin beneath a thick moustache, he was not what Barbara had expected. He looked more Asian than European. He extended a huge hand, more like a paw, and shook her hand.

"I am Kulloq," he said with a slightly Germanic accent.

"Barbara, and this is Tommy."

Tommy extended his hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"I'll take you to your hotel. It is best to talk there."

Barbara nodded. "Yes, fine. Are you from Nook?"

"Nuuk. No, I come from a long way north, a village called Pituffik. I came here for high school and university, then never left."

They walked to the vehicle, a bright blue Jeep Wrangler. Barbara was offered the seat next to the driver. She glanced at Tommy, but he seemed unperturbed. Kulloq drove scarily fast over a well-made but narrow, winding road. "That's the University. And that's the old cemetery."

Barbara looked out at the cemetery. High on a bluff overlooking the fjord, rows of tall white metal crosses lined up like soldiers in formation. The graves were shrouded in brightly coloured flowers. It was surreal, yet oddly moving. "It's attractive. All those flowers."

"They're artificial. We can't really grow proper flowers here. We like our ancestors to have a nice environment to dwell in."

The trip into town was short. It was the smallest capital city Barbara had ever seen. It was barely a town. One main road stretched a quarter of a mile with a cross street that led down to the pioneer area. One modern office block of about seven stories dominated town, but it looked small by English standards. Underneath was the main shopping centre. Opposite was a five storey hotel, but instead of parking, Kulloq proudly took them on a short tour.

"This is the hospital," he said driving past a series of buttercup yellow buildings. "Buildings are colour coded so you can find them in the blizzards. Medical buildings are always yellow. In recent years though colour coding has stopped because people have satnavs."

"Fascinating," Tommy said from the back. Barbara just wanted to get to the hotel and have a shower.

The tour was quick. The docks housed fisheries, mostly painted blue. Old houses were painted in the traditional rusted red, and utilities were green. Now the system had broken down. Houses were all colours, and the depressing rows of government flats, built by the Danes in the 1950s, were white and grey decorated only with bold murals of sad Inuit faces. They reminded Barbara of the depressing council estates at home, and she wondered if they shared the same issues. Newer apartment blocks had colour and light, and different shapes breaking up the streetscape.

"And this is our cultural centre." The building was a sweeping curve of blonde timber and looked at odds with the blockish nature of other structures. "It's a small city."

"It's very interesting," Barbara replied searching for a neutral and relatively enthusiastic term.

"I'll show you our pioneer area then."

Barbara smiled. She would prefer a shower and food. Kulloq pointed out the sights. A quaint red church sat beneath a small rocky hill with a statue of Hans Egede, the Danish missionary merchant who founded it in the 1728. Barbara could tell Tommy was in his element, admiring the buildings and learning the history. He looked over and frowned. She realised she had cocked her head and was smiling at him like a doting grandmother admiring her first grandchild. She coughed, then looked away, hoping he would not notice her red face.

Finally, Kulloq drove them to their hotel. "What if I let you sleep, and we meet for breakfast at eight?"

"What time is it now?"

"About half past one."

"Do they have room service? I'm starving."

Kulloq frowned. "I can ask. They might have some fish." He lifted her bag out of the Jeep then hurried over to the counter.

Barbara looked over at Tommy. He was smirking at her. "What?"

"I have a vision of Kulloq throwing fish to you like a trained seal. Who is hungry at this hour?"

"Me!" She turned and followed Kulloq.

Barbara woke at seven as her phone chirped. At first she thought it was the alarm, until she recognised the barking ringtone. "Yes, Sir?"

"Ah, Havers," Hillier said far too cheerfully. "What have you learned?"

"How far Nuuk is from anywhere. We are being briefed this morning. Anything over there?"

"Not much. Chat to Nkata after you have your briefing. And try to wrap this up quickly. I want you both back here."

"Yes, Sir. I'll keep you informed." She hung up before he could say anything else.

She rang Tommy. "You awake?"

"I am now. What's up?"

"Nothing. I was... being your alarm clock."

"Very considerate of you." There was a long pause. "Do I have to turn you off, Alarm Clock?"

"Oh, no. Sorry. I'll see you at breakfast."

She lowered the phone and smiled. "Maybe you can turn me on sometime."

Anja Petersen had been on the morning flight from Copenhagen. She was tall, young and had legs that seemed to reach her armpits. In an elegantly cut black suit and red shirt, she looked bright and eager. Worst of all she had no rings on her fingers and a sweet smile, mainly aimed at Tommy. In her baggy jeans and oversized coat, Barbara felt frumpy.

"Good Morning, Inspector Havers, Superintendent Lynley."

Her voice dripped with honey. Barbara's shoulders tightened. "Morning. I'm sorry, I don't know your rank."

The women smiled. "Politikommissær. Roughly equivalent to your Sergeant."

Relieved she outranked her, Barbara smiled. "That sounds a bit Russian."

The woman frowned then smiled. "Oh, no. It's not a political rank."

Kulloq ushered them to a booth at the rear of the restaurant. "I took the liberty of ordering a set breakfast so we could talk."

Barbara nodded. "Fine, thank you, Kulloq."

She quickly outlined their case as the two waitresses brought them thick flat loaves of dark bread, cut meats, and fish, and a variety of cheeses. "So any information on Schweindeiner would be helpful."

Petersen smiled. "It seems he lives aboard the Puffin Express..."

Barbara laughed. "The what? That sounds like a children TV programme. Is it parked next to Thomas the Tank Engine?"

Petersen frowned and looked at Tommy. So did Barbara. He smiled, then laughed. "I presume that's his cruise ship?"

Anja nodded. "Yes. He's being living onboard for the last six months. And that's when the itinerary changed. Of course, in the winter the cruises are very limited anyway, but still..."

"Changed in what way?" Tommy asked. He was leaning across the table towards Anja.

"They now stop on the way up and back in a bay not renowned for anything. Ostensibly it's for whale watching, but there are no records of whales frequenting that bay."

"Sounds suspicious," Barbara said, hoping to draw Anja's eyes from Tommy. "So how do we trace it?"

Anja looked surprised. "Isn't that why you are here? To board the vessel and see."

"Do you have a warrant?"

The Danish policewoman looked at Kulloq, and then back at Barbara. "Noooo," she said slowly, "we thought it would be an undercover assignment. We have booked a cabin on the cruise leaving tonight."

"We? Who is going? You and Kulloq?"

"Us? No, we're not a convincing couple. No offence Kulloq."

"None taken. I hate boats. I get seasick. That's why I left the village. I couldn't be a fisherman."

Barbara had a horrible vision of Mummy Long-Legs expecting to accompany Tommy. She clenched her fists under the table. It made sense, but it hurt like hell. Much more than she had expected. "How many days?" she asked as neutrally as she could.

"Seven nights."

"I see. So you want Superintendent Lynley to accompany you?"

Tommy kicked her under the table, far harder than was necessary to get her attention. She looked over and frowned. He frowned back, then smiled sweetly at Anja. "It's not British jurisdiction."

"No, but it's a good idea. And if Anja is with you." This time his kick was swift and hard. It was designed to hurt and it did. Barbara scowled at him, and he returned it with menace. She was confused. "Can you see any alternatives, Sir?"

"May I have a word in private, Inspector?"

Barbara shrugged. "Excuse us."

Anja smiled. "Of course."

They walked in silence to small room off the main dining area. "Why did you kick me so hard?" She demanded. "I'll have a bruise for weeks."

"Sorry, but I am not spending seven days with that piranhic woman."

"Pirwhat?"

"Piranhic, as in a piranha. Did you see the way she eyed me up and down?"

"She fancies you. And you leant over towards her."

"I did not."

Barbara raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. "Yes. You did."

"As may be, but any desire is not mutual. She's got no torso, just legs and a head."

"Yeah, she reminds me of those wooden chopsticks you get with sushi." Barbara started to laugh. "Since when did you knock back stunning legs and a pretty face?"

"Havers!"

"Oh, cut the innocent act. I've known you for over a decade. She's exactly your type."

"I'm not that man anymore, and I have no intention of getting on that boat with her."

Barbara nodded then looked down before she betrayed her relief. Then she thought about the case. "Well, someone has to. You and Anja... make sense. You'd be believable."

Tommy raked his fingers slowly through his hair. "I can't believe you are condoning that."

Barbara frowned. "It is possible not to sleep with her. Just say no."

"I am perfectly capable of not sleeping with someone! I... No. I go with you, or I fly home."

"Me? No one would believe you and I are... together."

"Why not?"

"Well, for a start... look at you then look at me. Our accents are different, the way we dress... everything."

"Barbara, we have been partners for years. We can pull off being travelling companions."

"No, Hillier would give birth to a thousand glitter-covered chickens."

Tommy started to laugh. "He'd do what? I'd like to see that."

Barbara grinned at him. "Me too. We'd have to share a cabin."

"If we can share a caravan, I think we can manage."

"I get the top bunk."

"I think you'll find... Yes, you may have the top bunk."