16
She was sitting in a booth alone.
The seat was covered with blue leather, and her blond hair was very bright against the blue. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, patiently erect. She did not see him when he entered the restaurant, so that he had a moment to observe her unawares.
He looked at her, and for the first time in a year, he did not think she resembled Mary; he found joy in thinking only, She is my daughter, she is Penny. She saw him then, and the smile appeared on her mouth, and again it was not Mary’s smile; it was Penny’s, it was his daughter’s. He rushed to her and clasped her into his arms, and she said, “Oh, Daddy, Daddy, I thought you weren’t coming.”
“Are you all right. Honey, did they hurt—?”
“I’m fine. Daddy, you’re shaking. I’m all right.”
He held her close, feeling weak all at once, unable to speak. He sat abruptly, still holding her, and when he spoke, all he could say again was, “Are you all right?”
“Yes. They were nice to me.”
“Who, honey?”
“The men.”
“Which men?”
“All three of them. The two who took me from the house, and the one who brought me here today.”
“Start from the beginning, honey.”
“Two men came to the house. Last night, while you were at the party.”
“What were their names?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did they look like?”
“One was young with black hair and sideburns. The other one was blond.”
Roger. The black-haired one was Roger. But the blond? Rambley, of course. Freddie Barton had been at Enid’s party last night. Then who had made the phone calls? One of Roger’s cronies? It was possible.
“Where’d they take you, honey?”
“Down to the beach. They had a boat there, Dad.”
“Was it John Cloud’s boat? Was the name on it ‘Evelyn’?”
“I don’t know. It was dark. We didn’t go far, just down the beach a ways. They were having a lot of trouble. Neither of them seemed to know very much about boats. The dark one said they needed the Indian, and the blond one said he bet the Indian was gone for good. Anyway, they docked the boat, and then we got into a car and drove to the ferry.” She paused. “Is this Providence? They said we were going to Providence.”
“Yes, this is Providence.”
“They were talking about the Indian all the way here.”
“What did they say?”
“The dark one said they should never have trusted him with all that money. Suppose the Indian was gone for good? What about the money? They were very disturbed about the money.”
“What else?”
“They were also disturbed about who would take the boat out. The blond one said that would be taken care of.”
“You said there was a third man, honey. You said he brought you to the restaurant.”
“Yes. They took me to a house last night, gave me something to eat, and then locked me in. This afternoon, the third man came to get me. He drove me here and said I should wait for you, that you’d come to pick me up. He was blond, too.”
Barton? How was Barton involved in this? Or was the third man the Mr. Carpenter whom no one seemed to know?
“What else did they say, honey? On the way to Providence?”
“Something about a ship, Daddy, and about the stuff being aboard.”
“What stuff?”
“I don’t know. They just said ‘stuff.’ Whatever it was, there was twenty pounds of it.”
“Twenty pounds of what?”
“The stuff.”
A ship, Zach thought. A ship with twenty pounds of “stuff” on it. Was the forty-five-thousand dollars going to buy that “stuff”? What kind of “stuff” brought forty-five-thousand dollars for twenty pounds? Gold dust? Diamonds?
A ship.
And Mary had drowned in Menemsha Bight.
Water.
And the Fielding house.
A ship. And a fishing boat.
Whatever Mary had seen last year, it was going to happen again this year.
And this year, Zach wanted to see it.
“Come on, baby,” he said. “We’re going to find an airport.”
The chartered plane put down at the Edgartown Airport at 10:27. Zach paid the pilot and then found a phone booth. He took Penny into the booth with him, and rapidly dialed Enid Murphy’s number.
“Hello?” the voice said. It was the same voice he had heard earlier, the voice with the German accent.
“Let me speak to Miss Murphy,” he said.
“Just a minute.”
He waited. When she came onto the phone, he said. “Who was that?”
“My cleaning woman. Why?”
“Never mind. Did you get it?”
“Yes. Where are you?”
“At the Edgartown Airport.”
“Have you got a car?”
“I’m renting a Jeep as soon as I hang up,” Zach said.
“All right. Can you meet me at the basin on Menemsha Pond?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Enid said. “Zach?”
“Mmm?”
“Please hurry.”
“I will.”
“Nothing else?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“You could say … you could say a lot of things.”
“I’m working on them,” Zach said. “I’ll see you soon. You haven’t discussed this with anyone, have you?”
“No.”
“Good. I’ll be there. Take care of yourself.”
He hung up and then inquired about the rental of a Jeep. When he got the car, he and Penny hopped in, and they began the drive to Menemsha Pond. The sky overhead was studded with stars. It would be a good day for the regatta tomorrow.
Enid was waiting on a Chris-Craft cruiser. She wore a white raincoat buttoned to the throat, and a green kerchief held her blond hair. Zach doused the Jeep lights as soon as he saw her. He took Penny’s hand and walked to the boat. Enid rushed into his arms, and he held her close, surprised that he did not feel guilty or embarrassed holding a woman in his daughter’s presence.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Enid said. “Please, Zach.”
“Let’s get Penny to bed first,” he said. “She’s had a busy day.” He picked up his daughter and carried her into the cabin, and when they had tucked her in, she asked to kiss Enid good night, too.
They sat on the deck, their backs to the cabin. The pond was still and black. The occasional fish broke the silence of the surface. On shore the crickets chirped incessantly. There was a three-quarter moon hanging in the sky among the sparks of stars. They sat, and the water lapped gently against the sides of the boat, and they spoke in whispers because Penny was asleep.
“Did my call from Providence surprise you?” he asked.
“No. You promised you’d call. But if frightened me.”
Zach was silent for a moment, thinking. “Did you get the binoculars?” he asked.
“Yes. A very good pair. The man I bought them from said they’re old Army glasses. The lenses are coated so that they won’t reflect sunlight.”
“Good. Did anyone question you about renting the boat?”
“No. I told them I wanted to go fishing in the morning.” She paused. “Zach?”
“Mmm?”
“Where are you going in the morning?”
“I don’t know. I figure I’ll lay offshore until Cloud’s boat goes out. Then I’m going to follow it.”
“To where?”
“To wherever a ship might pass.”
“The Gay Head light?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, ocean ships use it as a landfall. On the way to the Cape Cod Canal to Boston.”
“That’s pretty far out. Mary wouldn’t have been that far out. Unless—”
“What?”
“Unless something happened in the Bight. Maybe she saw the boat …” He shrugged, puzzled.
“What do you think is going to happen tomorrow?”
“I think Cloud’s boat is going to transact some business with an incoming ship. I think forty-five-thousand dollars is going to change hands.”
Enid whistled softly.
“I think a similar transaction took place last year, and I think Mary stumbled onto it and was drowned because of it. Freddie Barton may be a part of this, though I can’t figure out how.”
“Freddie?”
“Yes. Is the regatta course marked by buoys?”
“Yes.”
“How does it work?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“The boats all jockey for position near the starting line. The racers are carrying stop watches. Fifteen minutes before the start, the committee boat raises a white cone, and the racers set their stop watches. Ten minutes before the start, a red cone goes up. Then, five minutes before the gun, they raise a blue cone. The boats begin maneuvering toward the starting line. A good sailor will cross the line right when that gun goes off. If he crosses it before the gun, he has to turn back and make another run.”
“But the course is marked with buoys?”
“Yes.”
“What happens if a boat goes outside the buoys?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well … what happens?”
“If she’s in trouble, do you mean?”
“Possibly.”
“The committee boat will probably go after her.”
“Did you watch the regatta last year?”
“Yes.”
“Freddie Barton was in it, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Did he go outside the buoys?”
“No. Not that I can recall. I think he finished fourth. He misjudged the start and had to go back. He lost a lot of time that way.”
“Then the regatta isn’t a part of it,” Zach said.
“What do you mean?”
“Or is it?” Zach said. “Maybe it’s just Barton’s legitimate excuse for being where he’s supposed to be. For being wherever that damn shipment is coming in.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Zach.”
Zach smiled. “I’m not sure I know, either. Come on, you’d better get home.”
“What time are you going out tomorrow?” Enid asked.
“Before sunup.”
“I’m going with you. You know that, don’t you?”
“There may be trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
“All right.”
“So … so I’d like to stay aboard tonight.”
“Enid—”
“Zach, I don’t want to leave you. I want to be with you. I … I want to be very close to you.”
He did not answer for a moment. And then he put his arm around her and drew her to him. He kissed her throat and her ear and her jaw, and then he found her mouth, lost himself in the sweetness of her mouth, and then murmured against her lips, “Darling, darling,” and the word sounded curious to him but he felt strangely alive again, alive for the first time in a very long while.