Sail of Stone
was going to meet someone.”
    “Who?”
    “He didn’t say, I told you.”
    “Did you ask?”
    “Yes, of course I did. But he just said that he was going to check something and that he would call later.”
    “What was he going to check?”
    “He didn’t say, and no, I didn’t ask. That’s how it is with my dad; he hasn’t ever said much, especially not on the phone.”
    “But it had to do with his disappearance? That is, the question of your grandfather’s disappearance?”
    “Yes, I assumed it did. It’s obvious, isn’t it? What else could it be?”
    “What else did he say?” Winter asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “You must have talked about something else. Other than that he was going to meet someone who might have had a connection to your grandfather.”
    “No. I asked how things were going in general. He said it wasraining.” Winter thought she gave a small smile. “But that’s not really unusual for Scotland, is it?”
    “Was he calling from a cell phone? From the hotel? From a bar or a café?”
    “I don’t actually know. I assumed he was calling from …” She had a notebook in her hand now; it was open. “… from this place, it’s called Glen Islay Bed and Breakfast.” She looked at him. “Ross Avenue, Inverness. The street is called Ross Avenue. I assume he was calling from there.”
    Glen Islay, thought Winter. It sounds like a brand of whisky. I recognize it, but it’s not whisky.
    “Why do you assume your father called from there?” he asked.
    “He might have mentioned it, now that I think about it. And anyway, he doesn’t have a cell phone.”
    So there are still people who aren’t cellified, Winter thought. In my next life I’ll be one of them.
    “I tried to send my cell along with him, but he refused,” said Johanna. “Said that it wouldn’t work and then he’d just get frustrated on his trip.”
    “He had a point there,” said Winter.
    “In any case, he hasn’t made any sort of contact since then,” she said.
    “Is it really that long a time?” Winter asked.
    “How do you mean?”
    “Four days. After all, you did wait four days to become worried. It could—”
    “What do you mean?” she interrupted. “Like I wasn’t worried the whole time. But as I just said, my father is not the type to call every day. But finally I became worried enough on top of my normal worrying that I called Glen Is … Glen Is …” She broke off and started to cry.
    Winter felt immobile, like a stone. I’m an idiot, he thought. And this is something I can’t really handle. It suddenly feels personal. Now I have to find a way out.
    “What is your dad’s name?” he asked gently.
    “Ax … Axel,” she answered. “Axel Osvald.”
    Winter got up, took her cup and his own, put them away to create a distraction, another way of thinking.
    He went back to his chair and sat down.
    “What do you think?” he said. “What could have happened? What are you thinking right now?”
    “I think something has happened to him.”
    “Why do you think that?”
    “There’s no other explanation for why he hasn’t contacted me by now.”
    Winter thought. Thought like a detective. It felt like an effort after all his other thoughts this summer, all his other plans.
    “Did he rent a car?” he asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “But your father has a driver’s license?”
    “Yes.”
    “What kind of work does he do?”
    “He’s … a carpenter.”
    “That took you a moment,” said Winter.
    “Yes. He was a fisherman before, like everyone else in the Osvald family. And like almost everyone else on the island. But he quit.”
    Winter didn’t question this further. He continued:
    “Maybe he found something, met someone, and maybe it was somewhere other than in Inverness and he’ll contact you soon.”
    “Oh, it’s such a relief to hear you say that,” she said with sudden irony.
    “Well, what do you want me to do?” he asked.
    “I don’t know,” she answered. “Forgive me. I
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