and went down to the garden to check the koi.
The gravel around the pond had loosened, and the azaleas drooped defeatedly. But the water level was a good six inches from overflowing, and the fish seemed to be enjoying themselves, careening playfully in the turbulence, pecking at the rain-packed surface of the water, creating kinetic rainbows that sparkled through the gloom. When they saw me, they raced forward and slurped at the moss rock, bumping and grinding in a frenzy of fat, wet polychrome bodies. I took some pellets out of the feed canister and tossed them in.
'Bon appetit, fellows.' I crossed the garden to take a look under the house: muddy but intact, just a bit of erosion. Some of the sandbags had got wet.
I dragged them out of the rain and had started to stack them when I heard Milo call:
'Phone, Alex.'
After scraping my shoes off, I climbed back up to the terrace. He was holding the receiver with one hand, the monograph with the other.
'Some guy who claims he's your broker. Very fast talker.'
I took the phone.
'Hello, Alex? Lou. Anything you want to tell me about the Bitter Canyon bonds, yet?'
I glanced over at Milo. He sat hunched, chin in hand, immersed in a chapter on rites and spells.
'Not yet. Give me a couple - '
'No sweat, Alex. I already unloaded it. After we spoke, I went digging and found a slight trickle oozing out of Beverly Hills. No big block sales, just a few odd lots here and there, but there's definitely been some quiet selling. Might mean nothing, but then again, it might. In any event, I'm out.'
'Lou, I -'
'Don't worry, Alex. I sold at a good premium and made a tasty short-term capital gain. My clients are pleased, and
my charisma remains unscathed. If it crashes, I'll look like Nicodemus; if not, we still did okay. So thank you, Doctor.'
'For what?'
'Information. I know you couldn't say anything, but nuance was enough. The market runs on it.'
'If you say so. Glad to help.'
'Listen, I'm fuelling up The Incentive and heading down your way en route to Cabo San Lucas. Going to be looking for white sea bass and the late albacore run, plus there's a rumour the tutuava have returned. I'll be docked at Marina Del Rey for a couple of days, tying up some loose ends with a client. How about I call you and we take lunch?'
'Sure, Lou,' I said absently. 'That would be great. Listen, can I ask you a technical question - '
'That's what I'm here for.'
'Not about finance. About boats.'
Milo stopped reading.
'If you're looking to buy, I know someone who's got a very clean thirty-foot Boston whaler. Probate situation - '
'Not in the market,' I said, then looked out at the downpour. 'Yet.'
'What then?'
'Lou, if you wanted to hide something on a boat, where would you put it?'
' Depends on the boat. The Incentive's got all sorts of nooks and crannies, all that teak. If there's enough woodwork, you could hollow out a compartment virtually anywhere.'
'No, I mean so even the pros couldn't find it.'
'The pros?'
'The police.'
Milo looked up and stared at me.
'Alex,' said Cestare, 'what the devil are you up to?'
'I'm not up to anything. Consider it a theoretical question.'
He gave a low whistle.
'In some circuitous way this is related to Bitter Canyon, isn't it?'
'It could be.'
Silence.
'How big a thing are you trying to hide?'
'Say, five inches by eight.'
'How thick?'
'An inch.'
'That small, huh? For a minute you had me worried you were getting into something felonious. Cocaine transport, et cetera. But even coke wouldn't be worth smuggling in such a small quantity . . . unless, of course, it were a private stash and you - '
'Lou,' I said patiently, 'I'm not a dope smuggler. Now where would you hide - '
'A five-by-eight-by-one thing? Let's see, have you tried the sea strainer?'
'What's that?'
'In a motorised boat - we are talking about a stinkpot, aren't we?'
I held my hand over the speaker and asked Milo:
'Radovic's boat motorised?'
He nodded.
'Yes.'
'In a motorised boat, seawater is used to keep the engine cool. The sea strainer is basically a duct that runs through the boat, carrying the water to the engine and keeping it free of debris. You've got hatches on both ends. If I really didn't want something to be found, I'd use the one in the hull. You'd have to swim underwater to stash it. Is this thing perishable?'
'Yes.'
'Can you use it in the kitchen? Animal, vegetable, mineral?'
I laughed.
'Anyway,' he said, 'I'd wrap it in something to protect it, unscrew the strainer hatch, stick the thing in, close it up, and forget about it. Sound like what you're after?'
'Could be. Thanks, Lou.'
'Think nothing of it. We're a full-service brokerage house. Oh, one more thing, Alex.'
'What's that?'
'Brandon says hello. You've convinced him he's an executive.'
'Hello back to Brandon.'
I hung up. Milo stood over me.
'So?' he said.
'Do you know a good frogman?'
The wind came in hard, cold gusts separated by ominous moments of frigid silence. The strongest blasts bent the masts of the smaller sailboats, causing them to whipsaw and dance. The air was a gumbo of bilge, gasoline, and sweet coastal air, lightly salted.
'This is supposed to blow over by evening,' said Milo, drawing his yellow slicker tight and hugging himself. His pale face had pinkened in the chill, and his eyes were red and watery. The slicker made him look like a big school kid. 'We can wait. You don't have to do it now.'
The man in the wet suit looked out at the marina. Cinder skies had turned the water a deep, angry grey. Grey flecked with frothy white. Shark-fin waves threw off mottled highlights of pea green as they climbed, peaked, and rolled to sudden collapse. The man watched it for a while, white-lashed eyes compressed to a squint, young, freckled face stolid and still.
'S'okay, Sarge,' he said. 'I've seen worse.' He rubbed his hands together, checked his tanks, inspected the tool bag hanging from his weight bag, and stepped to the flimsy aluminium rail. Another diver climbed out of the cabin and flippered over. His face was equally young: shelf-chin, grey eyes, pug of a nose. 'Ready, Steve?' he asked. The first man grinned and said, 'Let's do it.' They pushed their masks down, climbed over
