"Know what your problem is?" said the chief as he put my letter down on his desk and peered at me over his glasses. "You're crazy."
"I was hoping you weren't going to say that."
"What am I supposed to say for Chrissake? You see a boat that looks like another and they both disappear. You ask around and discover that a certain man's private life and his business aren't all they were cracked pup to be-as if that's a rarity. You get in a bar fight up in Gloucester-which, by the way, you are too old to be doing-and later get hit on the head and tossed in the drink. A hundred miles away, I might add, and two weeks after you presumably saw Windhover's reincarnation down on the Cape. Now Doc. What am I supposed to say?"
I felt like a naughty kid in the principal's office. I stared idly out Brian's window and watched a gray squirrel hop along a giant oak limb, fluffing its tail and chattering. The word was getting around fast; even the squirrels knew I was crazy. A blue jay shrieked, and the squirrel chattered and flipped its tail in little quick jerks.
Brian Hannon picked up the phone and summoned an aide. He told the aide to run down some background information on James Schilling and Daniel Murdock.
"You did it. Why did you, if I'm imagining the whole thing?"
"I don't want you to suppose anything from it. Remember this: you still haven't a thing concrete to go on. It's one pipe dream strung to another, all the way along. But I can get the information, and will, if there is any to be got. I can do it without pangs of conscience because doing so will indirectly protect you, which is what I'm paid to do. We'll get back to you in a few days. You can be reached at home?"
"No. We're taking off from the Cape tomorrow early. I'll be spending two days or so getting Ella Hatton ready."
"Who's she?"
"My boat."
"Oh I see. Getting her ready to take her out of the water?"
"No. Getting her ready for a cruise around Cape Cod Bay. I don't want anyone except you and the family, and Jim DeGroot, to know where I am or how long I'll be gone. If you need me, call Mary and leave a message."
"and what do you intend to do on this cruise?"
"I'm going to find the boat: Penelope, Windhove r… Whatever the hell her name is, I'm going to find her if I have to pick up Cape Cod by Provincetown and Buzzards Bay and turn it upside down and shake it."
"That's a dumb idea."
"I didn't expect you'd think it was a great idea. Mary is not too wild about it either."
I rose to go, but he detained me. He opened a small metal filing case behind him and drew out my card. It was my application to own and carry a handgun. These are very difficult to get in Massachusetts. If you are caught toting a handgun and are not so licensed, you are sentenced to a year in the can. No ifs, ands, or buts. Chief Brian Hannon, after some debate, had granted me the Permit to Carry two years ago when I took up target shooting. He examined some slips of paper behind the card.
"Hmmm. Two additions since your original purchase. Ruger Bull-Barrel auto target pistol, caliber 22. Browning 9 millimeter auto. Tell me, Doc, you're not thinking of taking these along with you on your cruise are you'? And if you do, do you really think you might need them?"
I paused at the doorway and turned.
"As Fats Waller used to say: 'One never knows, do one?' "
"I still can't believe we went, Charlie," said Mary as she slid into the front seat. It was just before midnight and we were leaving the Surf Theater in Wocasset.
"How did you like them?"
"I can't believe they're legal. Honest to God I had no idea-"
"But how did you like them?"
"I think they're disgusting. I mean even the titles."
"I don't know, I thought the titles were rather clever, especially A Hard Man Is Good to Find."
"Hmmm. What was the other one called?"
" Genitals Prefer Blondes."
"Well it was disgusting."
"Well then I'm sorry I took you."
"You didn't like them, did you?"
"I think a little dirt every now and then is nice. You sure you didn't like them even a little bit?"
She protested that she didn't. The movies exploited both men and women she said, and debased sex. And furthermore, if she'd any idea that they were that explicit and graphic she never would have consented to go in the first place. And she would never go again. I kept my mouth shut.
We had arrived back at The Breakers the day before. All through the drive we discussed-argued actually-the merits and disadvantages of my secret Bay cruise aboard the Ella Hatton. I was propounding the former, she the latter. I finally managed to convince her that I would be safe because I would remain inconspicuously in the background: in small bays and inlets, in snug harbors and along beaches.
We swung into the wide gravel drive, exited the car and started up the back steps. The surf was loud. Mary had been strangely silent during the ride back to the cottage, as if she I were concentrating on something.
As soon as I shut the door behind us, she jumped me.