Hernandez had a reputation as a flake. On the coldest days, while handing out chocolate to his people, he would shut his right eye, turn his fist into a claw and bellow, “Energy for the gorge, me hearties, energy for the gorge.” He also had a withering sense of humor. One morning, he spotted a woman smoking near his raft. “I’d put that out if I were you.”
“Why’s that?”
“We fill those things with hydrogen. You ever hear of the Hindenburg?”
Hernandez was deadly serious about this job, however. He pored over videos of whitewater accidents and pestered the most experienced guides with technical questions.
“Did Price’s comment piss you off?” Carlyle said.
“Nah. I just told them that story about Elisha Belden to calm them down. I’m sure you used it when you worked here.” Belden, a fur trapper, unable to make it back to his cabin when a snowstorm hit the region in 1937, had his feet turn black from frostbite. A doctor sawed off all his toes, and Belden had to attach snowshoes to his stumps in order to stand upright. From then on, he made his living by going around to taverns, making drunks pay to watch rattlers bite him.
Hernandez’s crew had come alive in Cedar when they saw the Hudson working itself into a frenzy. “I pointed out the undercut ledges all along there and told them they were really dangerous, which they lapped up. Because the Hudson had doubled in size, we’d begun picking up speed. When the river turned right and began to collide with boulders, my crew went nuts, yelling and swearing, the typical macho bullshit.”
Carlyle leaned forward. “How did Price react?”
“As we turned the corner at the top of Entrance, we could see Blue Ledges up ahead and a lot of turbulence. It’s like a minefield, rocks everywhere. Then he did something really weird.”
“Like what?”
“He took off his sunglasses and put them in the mesh pocket of his life vest.” Hernandez swallowed some coffee. “Just as we got into the middle of all that turbulence, Price, the paddle in his left hand, leaned out over the side, just like guides do. When he put all his weight on the thwart—he was really close to the water at that point—the floor strap on his side tore away.”
Everybody was looking at Hernandez, whose hands were shaking.
“I know this is difficult,” Carlyle said, “but tell us everything you remember.”
“He just flew backward out of the boat. Christ, it was awful. He tumbled through Entrance, head over heels, submerged most of the time, ten or fifteen feet behind us. Then I heard him scream. That’s when he must have done it—dislocated his shoulder.”
Bognor said, “There was no way you could help him?”
“I was too busy keeping us upright to throw him a rope. He tumbled down through a rock-lined chute and straight into another hydraulic. He must have been recirced four times at least before he finally flushed out.”
Carlyle said, “Was there any way for him to swim to shore?”
“His right arm wasn’t working. Every time he came up for air, he screamed.”
“How’d you get to him, finally?”
“At Blue Ledge basin, Alex pulled up real close, grabbed his vest, and hauled him in. Then we all hurried into an eddy.”
“What about his arm?”
“I guess this is where I take over,” Nash said. “Since it had come out of the socket, I put him face down across my raft and popped it back in place. It’s a pretty routine technique.”
“Let’s stop here for a minute,” Carlyle said. “Did anyone happen to take a look at the thwart?”
Marshall said, “That’s the first thing we did when we got back to the lodge. I saw right away that a four-by-six piece holding the crosspiece in place had let go.”
“Is the boat outside?”
“It’s with the manufacturer,” Marshall said. “They claimed that it wasn’t under warranty and not their fault.”
“Why’s it still with them?”
“My father’s lawyer is planning to sue.”
Carlyle put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “From what we’ve heard so far, my guess is that our guy probably used a box cutter or an Exacto knife on the boat. Just like he did to Sanders’s foot strap.”
Marshall looked stunned. “What the hell did we do to deserve this?”
“We’ll get to that later. How did Price make out?”
“I bound his arm to his side,” Nash said. “Then I wrapped his bleeding hand in gauze. It looked like hamburger.”
“You’ve done these procedures before?”
“Dozens of times. In the army, out on the river, you name it.”
Marshall said, “What do I do now?”
“First, we run a check on Price,” Carlyle said.
“I don’t think he blames us,” Hernandez said.
“Why not?”
“Before he left he handed me an envelope. There were five bills in it. All hundreds.”
Marshall glared at Carlyle. “I suppose you’re going to let DEC know about these two incidents.”
“Do I have a choice?”
After Marshall and his guides left, Bognor fished in his pockets. “You mind if we go outside? I need a smoke.” When they reached the bottom step of the lodge, he said, “Any idea why Marshall didn’t report those incidents earlier?”
Carlyle leaned against the sheriff’s cruiser. “He probably didn’t know it was sabotage.”
“You think there were other events like these two?”
“Could be, but he may have covered them up. Wouldn’t you, if you were in this business?”
“Can’t we just ask him straight out what else has gone wrong recently?”
“There may be a pattern he’s not aware of. Little things like a bus that won’t start or a frayed rope that fails at a critical time.”
Bognor began coughing.
Carlyle said, “You want to go in and sit down?”
“If I can’t stand up, what good am I to this job?”
“No one’s going to push you out, John. You’ve helped more families around here than all the social workers in the county.”
It was 5:00 p.m. Mist began rising from the river. A string of
