Town in a Lobster Stew

had been used to build the tower. On her left were the first steps of an iron staircase, painted black and ornately decorated, twisting upward.

Her head craned back. It was like looking at the inside of a spiraling seashell, only this was one she could stand in.

“Up,” Roger instructed.

“But it’s dark up there. We’ll trip on the steps.”

“Up!” Roger ordered again, this time in a threatening tone.

Bob held up a hand. “Wait.” He crossed the tower’s circular floor to the opposite wall and moved toward a panel hidden under the staircase. Roger called out to him, brandishing the gun, but Bob just pointed toward the panel. “Lights,” he said.

Roger seemed to finally understand. He nodded curtly. Bob opened up the panel cover and flipped several switches.

The tower’s inside was suddenly illuminated, glowing with a soft yellow color, looking much as it must have a hundred years earlier, when the lightkeepers in their dark blue wool uniforms climbed these steps with gas lanterns in their hands.

As Bob came around the foot of the steps, he let out a long breath. “There are one hundred and seventy-four steps to the top, just so you know. Six landings — twenty-nine steps in each section.” And he started up.

Candy followed.

She held tightly to the railing as she climbed the thick metal stairs, which were bolted to a winding frame. They reached the first landing and continued on, moving steadily upward. As she climbed, Candy found herself growing a little dizzy, and her thighs started to feel the stress. I bet those old lightkeepers never needed to head to the gym, she thought idly. This was enough of a workout to keep anyone in shape.

At the third landing, they saw a small alcove, where a tall, narrow window looked out over the ocean. On a clear day, she imagined, the view from here would be magnificent. But today she stared out at a patchy seascape of mostly gray colors, although spots of blues and whites peeked through.

“Keep moving,” Roger said, standing several steps behind her.

She nodded and started up again.

She could hear Bob wheezing above her now, and even Roger was breathing heavily. Candy tried as best she could to control her own breathing. She didn’t want to become too winded or light-headed. She might need her wits once they reached the top.

On the fifth landing, Bob stopped to catch his breath, and Candy came up behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He glanced back at her and nodded. “I climb this tower a dozen times a month. I’m used to it.”

“Enough talking,” Roger said, coming up behind them. “Get going.”

At the sixth landing, Candy saw several old waist-high wooden cabinets with locks on them. “This is the service landing,” Bob told her. “This is where the old lightkeepers used to keep their log books, as well as tools and mineral oil when the light was still an actual flame. They used to haul up the five-gallon cans of oil using a pulley system.” He pointed at the ceiling, where Candy saw a large iron hook. “The light’s right above our heads,” Bob said, nodding at the ceiling. With his head he indicated a nearby hatch in the circular wall. “And that’s the way out onto the watch deck.”

Roger climbed the last few steps behind them and motioned toward the hatch. “That’s where we’re going.”

“Outside?” Candy asked, incredulous. “But...”

Roger pushed on the hatch’s handle, but the door didn’t open. He swung the gun toward Bob. “Unlock it.”

Bob stood motionless for a few moments. It was clear he was again running various scenarios through his head. But it was also obvious he had no plan for escape. He shrugged and walked to the hatch, pulling out his keys once more. He unlocked the hatch, pushed on the handle, and opened the door.

“Out,” Roger ordered.

With a last look at Candy, Bob stepped out onto the iron walkway that encircled the top of the tower, just underneath the light.

Roger turned toward Candy. “You too.”

Candy gulped. She had a deep dread of where this was all headed. “What are you planning to do, Roger?”

“I told you. I have to tie up some loose ends. Now move.”

Candy hesitated as Bob had, but then she too stepped toward the hatch, and passed through to the outside.

Forty-One

The first thing she noticed was the wind. It had been relatively calm at ground level, but here, nearly a hundred feet up in the air, the wind was surprisingly brisk. A wave of panic surged through her as she felt herself being pushed sideways by a particularly strong gust, and she reached for the iron railing that surrounded the watch deck.

The fog had broken apart briefly, separating around the tower. Its rounded side fell away beneath her, and she could see all the way to the ground far below. Only the crisscross matrix of the iron deck separated her from certain death.

She gasped as she looked down. From somewhere underneath her, the foghorn sounded its long, low blast.

Bob was standing nearby, clutching at the iron railing, looking ill. Candy joined him. They both turned to watch Roger emerge from the hatch.

He pulled up the collar of his jacket against the wind and turned to face them. “So, here we are,” he said, his voice rising to be heard above the rush of the wind and the thunder of the ocean. “Unfortunately, we’ve reached the end of our little climb. Now there’s only one way down for the two of you.”

“Roger, what are you doing?” Candy asked, nearly frantic.

“You both know what’s next. I can’t leave the two of you alive.”

“But no one will believe we jumped off the tower,” Candy shouted, trying to convince him to change his mind.

Roger flashed an eerie smile, showing off those white teeth, framed by the black goatee. “Of course they will. It all makes sense. Bob killed Sedley and Charlotte. And you found out he did it. He brought you up here, and you two struggled. Unfortunately, you both went over the side. See, I said it was simple. And very clean. All the loose ends are tied up in a neat package.” He lowered the gun at them. “So, there we are. No more need for conversation. You both just need to do what you have to do.”

“There’s no way!” Bob shouted. “We’re not doing it.”

“Oh, but I think you are,” Roger said, and he tightened his finger on the trigger.

But before he could pull it, a musical note sounded from his jacket pocket.

It was his cell phone, Candy realized. Roger looked down, distracted. And in that moment Bob rushed him.

Roger caved under the impact as Bob slammed him back against the tower’s exterior wall. Bob went for the gun, and they struggled for it briefly as it fired into the air. Candy ducked, covering her head with her arms. She backed away, around the curved side of the tower, as Roger threw Bob back toward her. She grabbed the maintenance man’s arm and pulled him with her, around the tower and out of Roger’s line of sight.

“Are you okay?” she shouted at Bob as they stumbled together.

He nodded and pointed back over her shoulder. “That way.”