It flew across the foredeck, upending Penrose senior and scattering the others, before crashing into the starboard rail, ripping out one whole section as it continued its journey aft. Conrad leapt forward, swinging the ax, severing the line.
Chase hauled back on the throttle lever. ‘You stupid sonofabitch!’ he yelled. ‘The one thing you had to do—toss the goddamn keg!’
‘I—’ stammered Manfred.
‘No excuses,’ said Conrad. ‘You screwed up.’
Manfred turned his gaze on him, and for the briefest of moments, deep in his crystalline eyes, Conrad caught a glimmer of what Manfred was capable of.
‘Look at my goddamn boat!’
‘We’ll cover it,’ said George Wallace. ‘Whatever it costs.’
‘Damn right you will,’ said Chase, beginning to soften, the prospect of padding out the costs already dampening his anger.
Mr Penrose was helped to his feet. He hopped around and rubbed his shin and declared himself to be okay. The Senator looked far from okay.
‘Did I stick her right?’ he asked Conrad.
‘You stuck her right.’
‘I’d have had her.’
‘Oh, you’d have had her.’
Manfred Wallace felt the full force of the Senator’s glare. Assuming, as you certainly could, that the Senator had grossly exaggerated the size of the North Carolina bluefin that got away, then he’d just lost the biggest fish of his life, and through no fault of his own.
Only when he caught Rollo looking at him did Conrad realize he was wearing an expression of deep satisfaction. He didn’t care that Rollo had seen him laid bare. He didn’t care that someone could have been far more seriously injured by the keg, or that somewhere out there a four-hundred-pound swordfish was being driven mad with the agony of a bronze dart buried in its back. He didn’t care, because he knew this was as close as he was ever likely to come to witnessing the humiliation of Manfred Wallace.
It was a dismal end to a perfect day for the Wallaces and their guests. As the
The Senator mock-punched him on the jaw and laughed as he recalled the spectacle of Penrose senior going ass-over-elbow. The swordfish might have given him the slip, but he had a far more entertaining tale to tell because of it, and that realization was just beginning to dawn on him.
The late-afternoon buzz at the Montauk Yacht Club swept aside the last vestiges of the incident, the dockside thronging with people eager to view the catches of the returning boats. Their swordfish was hoisted on to the scales at the end of the dock. At four hundred and forty pounds it wasn’t large enough to cause a real stir, but the number of tuna they’d hooked, stacked up on the dock like so much cordwood, was impressive by any standards. It made Chase look good, it made his party look good, and the moment was trapped for posterity by a photographer.
Conrad cleaned and dressed a couple of tuna and packed them in ice for the Wallaces. The rest were sold to the same buyer who took the swordfish off Chase’s hands.
Manfred announced he was off to phone home, to let the drivers know they were back. Conrad slipped away, tailing him towards the clubhouse.
‘There’s the extra hundred for the swordfishing,’ he called.
Manfred stopped and turned. ‘I thought I’d just add it to the cost of the repairs.’
‘I’ll take it now, if that’s okay with you.’
It was twice as much as he’d promised Chase, but he doubted any tips would be forthcoming after what he was about to say. He didn’t care for himself, but there was no reason Rollo should be denied his dues.
Manfred handed him the cash, and Conrad stuffed it into his hip pocket without looking at it.
‘Whose idea was it?’
‘Excuse me?’ said Manfred.
‘Going fishing, your sister still warm in her grave.’
Manfred didn’t respond immediately, unsure if he had heard correctly. ‘How dare you,’ he flared.
Conrad took a step towards him.
‘I know about Lizzie Jencks.’
Manfred recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. His eyes had betrayed him.
‘Lizzie who?’
‘And that’s not all I know.’
‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,’ said Manfred with way too much indignation.
Conrad smiled. ‘I’ll be seeing you.’
He stood his ground, obliging Manfred to walk away first. But he didn’t.
‘Who the hell do you think you are, hurling accusations around?’
