What She Found (Tracy Crosswhite #9)(31)

“Possible but doubtful. There’s a lot of superstition regarding changing the name of a boat.”

“I’m assuming the Canadian registrar would have a paper trail of some kind if the boat changed owners?”

“They could, but again, not every boat has to be registered.

They have regulations and exemptions that set that all out and, again, there can be more than one boat with that name.”

“How might I find the boat, if it did come down from Canada and it was registered?”

Welsh gave her question some thought. “First, you’re not likely talking about a speedboat, especially not in November. Probably not a sailboat either.”

“Why not?”

“The wind can howl through the Inside Passage, and the waters can get rough,” he said, referring to the passage that boats took from Seattle northwest along Canada’s coast to Skagway, Alaska, to avoid the Pacific Ocean. “Especially that time of year. The boat would have to be big enough to handle the waves and the currents and to store enough gas to get from one marina to the next. I’d look for a commercial boat—a crab or salmon boat, something seventy to seventy-five feet or more.”

“When a ship goes though the Ballard Locks, is there a paper trail documenting it?” she said, referring to the locks ships passed through to get from the saltwater Pacific Ocean to the freshwater Lake Union and Lake Washington. “Does someone at the locks document each boat coming and going?”

“Not to my knowledge, not now, anyway. I don’t know about back then specifically, but if they don’t keep a record now, it seems unlikely they did in either 1995 or 1996—but I don’t know for certain; I’m just surmising. Think of the locks like a stop sign before people pass through east or west.”

“Who would I ask at the Ballard Locks?”

“Ask the lockmaster. That’s the person who raises and lowers the water to allow boats to pass.”

“What about when a boat arrives here at the marina and wants to moor? Do you keep records?”

Welsh made a face. “We have computer records now, certainly, for tax reasons. Back then? I don’t know for certain but again, for tax purposes, I would think that was standard procedure.” He paused.

“But?” Tracy asked.

“But I can also tell you that boats looking for moorage for only a night often pay in cash, and there’s no guarantee the harbormaster would have recorded each boat if it didn’t plan to stay more than a night. You like to believe people are honest, but money does funny things.”

Tracy knew this too well. She pointed to the initials on the note beneath “Diamond Marina.”

“Would you have records here that indicate who was the harbormaster at that time?”

“Not here. I can call the marina owner’s office and ask the accountant to go through her records, if she has them from that long ago, and see if she can come up with a name starting with those initials.”

“I’d appreciate it,” Tracy said. “I’d also appreciate it if she could find any moorage records for the Egregious for a particular day and night.”

Welsh had a pen in hand and was taking notes. “Again, I can try. What days?”

The two bodies had floated up to the marina the morning of November 20, 1995. “Say for November 18 and 19, 1995.” She gave it additional thought. “Actually, if the accountant has records, I’d be interested in any dates in 1995 that the Egregious moored here at the marina.”

Welsh made a face. “I can’t, for the life of me, think of a reason the marina would have kept records going back that far—the IRS

only requires five years—but I can find out. If the records exist, that could take some man-hours to go through them.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Let me ask you this: Are you aware of any boat currently in the marina that was here back then?”

Welsh shook his head. “I’d have to ask around, Detective, see if anyone knows more than I do. Can I ask what this is about?”

“November 20, 1995, two bodies were found floating in the water at the marina. Two men drowned. I’m trying to determine how they might have ended up in Lake Union. Any ideas?”

Welsh again gave this some thought. “They could have fallen overboard. That would seem to be the most likely. But if they could swim . . . the lake isn’t that big, but people do drown here. You said it was November?”

“Yes.”

“Water can get down to thirty-seven, thirty-five degrees in the winter. It doesn’t take long for someone to drown when the water is that cold, especially if they can’t swim. Even if they can, if the wind is howling and creating waves . . . hypothermia only takes about fifteen minutes. Or if the men were impaired in any way . . . I’d check the weather records for back then.”

Tracy removed a business card from her briefcase and handed it across the desk to Welsh. “I’m most interested in finding D. S. If

your accountant can find records of the Egregious mooring back in 1995, those would also be helpful.”

Welsh placed the card on the desk. “I’ll call her right now.”

Tracy left the marina and drove to the Ballard Locks, which were close. She met the lockmaster, Kevin Lohman, who told her the locks were the busiest in the United States with more than 645,000