for?"
"Whatever it is, there's likely a loop of yellow boat cord attached to it. I'd like your guys to bring it in if they can without touching it. I want to try for fingerprints."
"I'll get them some gloves," he said, his German accent hissing gently on the "s." "That's deep there, over thirty feet, I think."
"Yeah, and the bottom's weedy, so it may be hard pinpointing the place. I've got a few things to do now; then I'll come up to the point in the police boat, bringing the guys who found the kid. They'll know where you should look first."
"That would be good. When will you be there?" He hesitated and added a respectful "Chief." All the Germans I've ever met love rank.
"Two hours," I told him. I checked my watch. "Let's say seven-thirty."
His voice became dubious. "We would have light only for an hour. I'll get Roger to bring his underwater light."
"Thanks, Wolf. At least we know we're looking for a fixed object. It won't be drifting away from us."
"That's one good thing," he said. "See you there at seven-thirty."
The phone rang at once, and I answered, "Police chief."
A teenaged boy spoke at once. "Yes, Chief. I'm Cy Levine. My mother said you wanted to speak to me."
"Thanks for being so prompt, Cy. I hear you were going slalom up near Indian Island this afternoon."
The voice was cautious. I remembered that Levine Senior was a lawyer. "I was skiing safely, Chief," he said. "We stayed away from other boats, had an observer and a driver."
"I know, Cy, and I hear you're pretty good. The reason I'm calling is to ask if you saw any boats up near the narrows while you were out."
"Oh." He was relieved and eager to please. "Lemme see. There were a couple of guys fishing. They caught something, then left."
"I know about them. Anybody else?"
Another pause and he said, "There were boats, you know, but if they're not in your way, you don't notice. Like I was working pretty hard at the time." I could feel his ego swelling up, blocking out his memory of anything other then himself flashing over the waves. I burst his bubble to get at the truth. "The reason I'm asking is that those fishermen found a boy drowned and, I believe, he came from a boat. What you remember may be important to me."
He gasped, and his voice went up a fifth. He was a kid again, not a star. "Wow. Drowned. Yeah, well, that's different. Let me see." He thought about it and said, "There was a sailboat up above the narrows. It had a red sail. Not a big boat—holds two, you know."
I scribbled this down and waited. He went on. "Oh, and there was a green aluminum johnboat, the kind they use at the lodge near us to take the garbage over to the dump."
I wrote that down as well and asked, "Where was it?"
"Coming north through the narrows. As if it was coming from the lodge. Heading over toward the dump."
I probed to see if he remembered any garbage bags in it or who was driving, but he didn't. He had seen a biggish inboard/outboard with a canvas cover. He didn't recognize it but remembered it was green. And a canoe. The canoe had only one man in it. It was gray aluminum, and he didn't remember what the man looked like.
"Okay. Now I've got some other things to do. Could you please round up your friends and see what else they can remember? I'll drop by your cottage at dusk, in the boat, to check. If you could have them both there, I'd appreciate it. It's important."
"Yeah. Sure will." His voice sank again to its teenage masculinity. "Is this, like a homicide, Chief?"
"We treat them all that way, Cy," I said ambiguously. "So it's important. Thanks for calling. See you at dusk."
The next call I made was to Freda. It rang five times before she picked it up and answered, "Hello there."
"Hi, it's your landlord," I said, and she laughed.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about the deerfly situation. Here I am, a defenseless woman in a bikini, trying to get some sun, and they're gnawing on me."
"Understandable. You looked very bitable the last time I saw
"Whatever it is, there's likely a loop of yellow boat cord attached to it. I'd like your guys to bring it in if they can without touching it. I want to try for fingerprints."
"I'll get them some gloves," he said, his German accent hissing gently on the "s." "That's deep there, over thirty feet, I think."
"Yeah, and the bottom's weedy, so it may be hard pinpointing the place. I've got a few things to do now; then I'll come up to the point in the police boat, bringing the guys who found the kid. They'll know where you should look first."
"That would be good. When will you be there?" He hesitated and added a respectful "Chief." All the Germans I've ever met love rank.
"Two hours," I told him. I checked my watch. "Let's say seven-thirty."
His voice became dubious. "We would have light only for an hour. I'll get Roger to bring his underwater light."
"Thanks, Wolf. At least we know we're looking for a fixed object. It won't be drifting away from us."
"That's one good thing," he said. "See you there at seven-thirty."
The phone rang at once, and I answered, "Police chief."
A teenaged boy spoke at once. "Yes, Chief. I'm Cy Levine. My mother said you wanted to speak to me."
"Thanks for being so prompt, Cy. I hear you were going slalom up near Indian Island this afternoon."
The voice was cautious. I remembered that Levine Senior was a lawyer. "I was skiing safely, Chief," he said. "We stayed away from other boats, had an observer and a driver."
"I know, Cy, and I hear you're pretty good. The reason I'm calling is to ask if you saw any boats up near the narrows while you were out."
"Oh." He was relieved and eager to please. "Lemme see. There were a couple of guys fishing. They caught something, then left."
"I know about them. Anybody else?"
Another pause and he said, "There were boats, you know, but if they're not in your way, you don't notice. Like I was working pretty hard at the time." I could feel his ego swelling up, blocking out his memory of anything other then himself flashing over the waves. I burst his bubble to get at the truth. "The reason I'm asking is that those fishermen found a boy drowned and, I believe, he came from a boat. What you remember may be important to me."
He gasped, and his voice went up a fifth. He was a kid again, not a star. "Wow. Drowned. Yeah, well, that's different. Let me see." He thought about it and said, "There was a sailboat up above the narrows. It had a red sail. Not a big boat—holds two, you know."
I scribbled this down and waited. He went on. "Oh, and there was a green aluminum johnboat, the kind they use at the lodge near us to take the garbage over to the dump."
I wrote that down as well and asked, "Where was it?"
"Coming north through the narrows. As if it was coming from the lodge. Heading over toward the dump."
I probed to see if he remembered any garbage bags in it or who was driving, but he didn't. He had seen a biggish inboard/outboard with a canvas cover. He didn't recognize it but remembered it was green. And a canoe. The canoe had only one man in it. It was gray aluminum, and he didn't remember what the man looked like.
"Okay. Now I've got some other things to do. Could you please round up your friends and see what else they can remember? I'll drop by your cottage at dusk, in the boat, to check. If you could have them both there, I'd appreciate it. It's important."
"Yeah. Sure will." His voice sank again to its teenage masculinity. "Is this, like a homicide, Chief?"
"We treat them all that way, Cy," I said ambiguously. "So it's important. Thanks for calling. See you at dusk."
The next call I made was to Freda. It rang five times before she picked it up and answered, "Hello there."
"Hi, it's your landlord," I said, and she laughed.
"I've been meaning to talk to you about the deerfly situation. Here I am, a defenseless woman in a bikini, trying to get some sun, and they're gnawing on me."
"Understandable. You looked very bitable the last time I saw
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