Nine Bridges North

The barge had been tied up at Lock Nine since Tuesday, and nobody had thought it odd until the swans stopped going near it.

Inspector Hal Brennan did not like water. He did not like the way it moved when you were not looking, or the way it smelled in October, or the fact that everything that went into it eventually came out again somewhere else. He stood on the towpath with his collar up and let the young constable go aboard first.