Sorry for the delay. I wanted to get the crime right before I published.

Tommy held Barbara's hand as they waited on the promenade deck nearest the gangway. In the back of his mind, he could not shake a nagging dread. It was not a fear he could articulate, just a feeling of impending danger and pain.

"You okay?"

He looked at Barbara. She looked worried. "Fine. You?"

"I would be if I could feel my fingers. You're strangling them. So what's bothering you?"

He never could disguise his feelings from Barbara, and probably less so now. "I don't know. It's just... a feeling."

"Of what?"

"That this is not going to end well. Now that we're together, it seems different."

She squeezed his hand. "It's not. We still have each other's back. We're a double act remember? We just have to know when to be Havers and Lynley and not Barbara and Tommy."

He lifted her hand and kissed it. "Wise words as always, but we have always been both underneath it all. But, if anything does happen, I want you to know that last night was the best night of my life."

"Mine too."

"Not the sex."

"Oh! You certainly know how to flatter a woman."

Tommy turned and frowned. "No, sorry. Making love was sublime, but I meant it was not my... whale talking. It is my heart. It was beautiful because of our spiritual connection. The physical part was just the manifestation of that. But, what a manifestation!"

"Tommy!" Barbara nudged him.

"Just remember always that I love you."

"I love you too, but stop saying it like that. I couldn't bear it. Losing you."

"No, and if I lost you now..." Tommy wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly.

Schweindeiner was nothing like Barbara had pictured him. "He's very fit, but otherwise looks ordinary," she remarked to Tommy as they watched him board. He was tall, but slightly shorter than Tommy. Neat grey hair, a trim physique and a deep suntan made the septuagenarian look years younger, but he did not look inherently evil or even unpleasant.

"Most psychopaths look just like everyone else. It's what we cannot see that is the danger."

They studied him as he calmly climbed from the rib onto the gangway that was rocking violently in the swell from the rib's wake. He was dressed well, in jeans, trendy sports shoes and an expensive looking all-weather coat. Two large plastic chests were carried by one of the crew onto the rear deck. Schweindeiner issued orders as they were strapped into place.

"We need to see inside those boxes."

"No," Tommy said firmly. "We would give the game away. They are padlocked, roped down and will probably be guarded by the crew as well as CCTV cameras. We need to see where they are offloaded and where they take them."

"You're right, but it still annoys me."

"Me too, but we have to be patient."

"Not my greatest strength."

"Mine either."

The entrance to Qeqertarsuaq Bay was a minefield of icebergs. It was not the small, chopped up styrofoam-in-a-pool type of ice Barbara had expected, but large, majestic, brilliant white icebergs that were as large as the ship. "Aren't they only about ten percent above the waterline?"

Tommy nodded. "Approximately."

"Then I hope the Captain knows where their bases are."

"They have sophisticated radar and sonography equipment. We will be perfectly safe."

"They probably told the passengers on the Titanic that too."

Tommy shook his heading mock disbelief. "Actually, these come across Disko Bight from the same glacier they believe the Titanic iceberg calved from."

Barbara raised then lowered her eyebrows. "Not comforting."

Tommy put his arm around her shoulder. "I've always fancied making love on an iceberg."

Barbara recoiled. "Not with me you're not. Those things tip over and besides it'd be me getting ice burns on my back, not you."

"Positions are negotiable. And I was thinking of a bed of furs."

Barbara stared at him. His eyes were smiling, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity. "No. Absolutely no way I am making love on ice. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to change my shoes. We have a terrorist to pursue."

The wharf was too small for the ship to dock, so they went ashore in the ribs. At the end of the jetty, a set of jaw bones from a bow whale formed a welcome arch to the small town. A faded sign read, 'Welcome to Disco Island'. As they passed under the arch, one of the crew echoed the sign and handed them a map. "Turn left at the main road. Have a nice day," she said with the sincerity of a McDonalds' waitress.

The road was little more than a narrow strip of tough bitumen with broad dusty shoulders. Hand-in-hand, they dutifully turned left and played their role as tourists. "You know, in the 70s the population here was nearly wiped out."

Barbara turned to Tommy. "Really? Why?"

"They caught Saturday Night Fever."

"What? Ohhh, that's a terrible joke," she said hitting him on the arm. They both burst out laughing. "I believed you."

"I thought of that when I saw the sign."

"What happened to... Oh, look, aren't they gorgeous?!" Barbara wandered over to a table of puppies. An enterprising local boy, dressed in his tourist uniform of fur-skin pants and jacket, pointed to a sign. 'Pats 50 ore, Fotos 1 Kr."

Tommy handed him five krone and ruffled his hair. The boy held up three wriggling bundles of grey and brindle fluff. "Five weeks old," the boy said, "will be sled dogs."

Tommy took Barbara's photo as she cuddled two dogs while the third tried to climb into the warmth of her jacket. One of the dogs used his paw to pull her hair across her face, just as the camera lens shut. Tommy laughed at the result. Barbara handed Tommy the dogs and grabbed his phone. The puppies crawled all over him, licking and nipping. Barbara smiled as she took several photos of him, grinning and trying to remove paws from his hair.

"Aren't you a feisty one?" he said to one who had grabbed a lock of hair by its teeth and was pulling.

"That's the girl," the boy told him with the undertone of disgust all ten-year-old boys have for the opposite sex. "She's very naughty."

"Then you should name her Havers." Tommy laughed at Barbara's scowl as he put the pups back on the table. "Mange tak."

They continued up the hill towards the small red church. Barbara studied the town map they had been given. "The town looks like it's on a small peninsula. There's supposed to be a mountain." She looked around. "Where's the mountain?"

Tommy laughed then pointed to their left where the base of an enormous mountain rose. "There. Covered in cloud."

Barbara felt silly. "Oh, I didn't notice it there."

"It dominates the area."

"I was concentrating on other things. Anyway, we turn left here, follow the road past the beach of the other bay and the research station is about half a mile near a lake. They can't say anything about us looking. It's on the map as a spot to see."

They turned onto the road which dipped down before rising again. The bitumen faded to hard-packed dirt. "Good. Does it say much about it?"

"No. There are sports fields opposite, and a lookout further along the road. So we can probably spend some time there and not look too suspicious."

"Good." They crested the rise. "Oh. Look at that." Tommy raised his camera and began to shoot.

"Wow." Barbara stared at the bay. It was almost circular. The slate grey water was still, almost like a mirror. Protruding from it were three stacks of blinding white. The icebergs towered above the half a dozen fishing vessels that were searching for their morning catch. The one closest to shore was a cubic monolith that looked as if it had been mathematically sculpted. Behind it, a taller pointed berg reminded Barbara of a bishop's hat. Further out, a low piece of ice stretched forever and seemed to block the entrance to the bay. Beside her, Tommy's phone continued to click. She nudged him. "We have to stop being tourists and focus on the case."

He frowned. "I hadn't forgotten, but this is spectacular."

Barbara studied the map again. "There's another road that goes through the village. It's a shorter way to the research station from the ship. What if Schweindeiner uses that?"

"We were on the last boat ashore. He was still on the ship. Even if he has another rib specially for his use, we will should still be ahead of him."

"Good. Come on. I would rather be down there."

Tommy nodded. They walked silently and without physical contact towards the station past small almost square houses, all brightly coloured, hugged the road creating a kaleidoscope of pinks, mauves, lime, bottle green, yellows and reds, most with cute white verandahs and trim and steeply angled grey roofs. Each house had a ski-doo parked beside it under a neat cover.

"I'm fascinated by the architecture," Tommy said.

"It's like God dropped his jellybeans."

Tommy laughed. "He obviously doesn't hold with the three second rule." He pointed. That must be the station there."

Barbara squinted to see. A small complex of interconnected red buildings with the traditional grey roofs and white trim were clustered together inside a white picket fence in the middle of a large paddock beneath a small cliff that ran down from the mountain base to the sea. A small pretty lake was between the station and the road. The only sign of officialdom was the twin flagpoles flying Greenlandic and Danish flags. "Not overly impressive."

"What were you expecting out here. An Oxford college?"

"No, but that looks… cute, not like the source of some horrific biological weapon. Look there's a 4x4 leaving."

"It's heading to the wharf. Let's just stroll down and see if it comes back."

They walked slowly, holding hands and stopping at the beach as if they were like any of the other passengers what wandered nearby. Small pieces of ice, less than a foot long washed up along the black sand shore. Tommy picked one up and handed it to Barbra.

"It's cold!"

"It's ice. Here hold it up and I will take a photo as if you are holding and icerberg."

Barbara struck a pose. "Hurry up, it's melting and running down my sleeve."

Tommy eventually stopped laughing enough to take a photo before the small block of ice flew past his head. He walked up and gave her a kiss then stuck a piece of ice down her jacket. Barbara flailed around trying to shake it free, cursing him and generations of his ancestors. Before she could retaliate, he noticed the vehicle returning. "It's coming back."

They walked along the beach, more quickly and with Barbara still muttering threats. They turned off the beach near the soccer field, directly across the road from the research station entrance. The white Landcruiser was pulling up near the entrance to white timber garage doors. Schweindeiner hopped out of the cab and helped the driver pull back the tarpaulin.

"It's those boxes," Barbara declared. "We have to get closer."

Tommy raised his camera. "Stand there facing me. It makes a nice photo and we have evidence for later."

Barbara stood and smiled. "Anything else happening?"

"They're taking the boxes inside. All right, swap spots. You photograph me. Here, let's look at these first. It will buy time and look normal."

"I don't feel normal. Hey, that's a good phot of me. I normally look like a miserable cow."

"It's because you were looking at me."

Barbara hit his arm. "You self-centred, poncy…" Her words were lost in his quick kiss.

Tommy laughed then stood for his photo. "A little to the left. No, my left. That's better. The boes are off. Hang on. Make a stupid pose or something." Tommy made a strongman pose. "Yeah, that's pretty stupid. They're bringing out other boxes. There's a seat just up there. We should sit for a while and take in the view."

They climbed a low, rocky hillock to where there was a timber bench. It had an ornate brass memorial plaque but written in Danish, neither of them could read it. They sat and looked out to the left over the station and to the right, over the sea. "This is good. We can stay here for a while," Tommy said.

"Maybe not. Look who is going up to the station."