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“How did it go?”
Greer tied off the stern, passed Michael his rifle, and climbed onto the pier. Just past seventy, he had aged the way bulls did: one minute they’d be huffing and snorting, looking to gore you; the next you’d find them lying in a field, covered in flies.
“Well,” Michael offered, “she didn’t kill you—that’s a plus.”
Greer didn’t answer. Michael sensed that the man was troubled; the visit had not gone well.
“Lucius, did she say something?”
“Say? You know how this works.”
“Actually, I’ve never really known.”
He shrugged. “It’s a feeling I have. She has. Probably it’s nothing.”
Michael decided not to press. “There was something else I wanted to bring up with you. I had a little run-in with Dunk today.”
Greer was coiling rope. “You know how he gets. This time tomorrow he’ll have forgotten all about it.”
“I don’t think he’s going to let this one go. It was bad.”
Greer looked up.
“It was my fault. I was egging him on.”
“What happened?”
“He came down to the engine room. The usual bullshit about the stills. Rand and a couple of guys practically had to pull him off me.”
Greer’s brow furrowed. “There’s been too much of this.”
“I know. He’s getting to be a problem.” Michael paused, then said, “It may be time.”
Greer was silent, taking this in.
“We’ve talked about it.”
Greer thought for a moment, then nodded. “Under the circumstances, you may be right.”
They went over the names: who they could count on, who they couldn’t, who was somewhere in between and would have to be carefully handled.
“You should lie low for now,” Greer said. “Rand and I will make the arrangements.”
“If you think that’s best.”
The spotlights had come on, drenching the dock with light. Michael would be working most of the night.
“Just get that ship ready,” said Greer.
—
Sara glanced up from her desk; Jenny was standing in the doorway.
“Sara, you need to see something.”
Sara followed her downstairs to the wards. Jenny pulled back the curtain to show her. “The DS found him in an alley.”
It took Sara a moment to recognize her own son-in-law. His face had been beaten to a pulp. Both of his arms were in casts. They moved back outside.
Jenny said, “I only just saw the chart and realized who it was.”
“Where’s Kate?”
“She’s on the evening shift.”
It was nearly four o’clock. Kate would be walking in the door any second.
“Head her off.”
“What do you want me to say?”
Sara took a moment to think. “Send her to the orphanage. Aren’t they due for a visit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Figure it out. Go.”
Sara entered the ward. As she approached, Bill looked up with the eyes of a man who knew his day was about to get worse.
“Okay, what happened?” she asked.
He turned his face away.
“I’m disappointed in you, Bill.”
He spoke through split lips: “I kinda figured.”
“How much do you owe them?”
He told her. Sara dropped into a chair by the bed. “How could you be so goddamned stupid?”
“It wasn’t like I planned this.”
“You know they’ll kill you. Probably I should just let them.”
He surprised her by starting to cry.
“Cripes, don’t do that,” she said.
“I can’t help it.” Snot was running from his thickened nose. “I love Kate, I love the girls. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t help. How much time have they given you to come up with the money?”
“I can earn it all back. Just stake me for one night. I won’t need much, just enough to get started.”
“Does Kate fall for stuff like this?”
“She doesn’t have to know.”
“It was a rhetorical question, Bill. How much time?”
“The usual. Three days.”
“What’s usual about it? On second thought, don’t tell me.” She got to her feet.
“You can’t tell Hollis. He’ll kill me.”
“He might.”
