Hercules Lowther, the ship’s figurehead carver, barely glanced at the auger that Watters placed on his counter.
“Could you identify these chips of wood?” Watters asked.
“That’s pine,” Lowther said. “Softwood,” he sniffed it, then ran it through his fingers. “Canadian pine, I’d say, and from the deck of a ship judging from the smell of tar. Why do you want to know?”
“From the deck of a ship?” Watters asked. “Are you sure?”
“Sure enough,” Lowther said. “The lower deck, I’d say, as there is very little salt on it.”
“How about this?” Watters produced a sliver of wood he had cut from Teresa’s hull.
Teresa’s“What do you reckon, Peter?” Lowther turned to the apprentice, who listened to everything that Watters said.
Peter Wallace grinned at Watters. “Halloa, Mr Watters. I’m still here!”
“I
