Alice Nettles, Chief Customs Officer, stood on the quayside looking at it suspiciously. Alice was a tall, gray-haired woman with an imposing manner acquired during her time many years ago as Judge Alice Nettles. But now she wore the official blue robes of a Customs Officer with two gold flashes on the sleeves. People at the Port did not mess with Alice, or at least not more than once. “I'd like a word with your skipper,” Alice told Snorri. This was not a good start to any conversation with Snorri. She glared at Alice and did not deign to reply. “Do you understand what I'm saying?” demanded Alice, who was sure that Snorri did. “I want to speak to your skipper.” “I am the skipper,” Snorri told Alice. “You will speak to me.” “You?” asked Alice, shocked. Surely the girl was no more than fourteen at the most. She was far too young to be skippering a Trader's barge on her own.
