Page 1 of Nightshade
1
THE MARINE LAYERwas as thick as cotton and had formed a thousand-foot wall that shrouded the entrance to the harbor. TheAdjournedwas late and Stilwell waited for it in his John Deere Gator by the fuel dock behind the Casino. The harbor was almost empty, the red-and-orange mooring balls floating free in lines across the glass surface. Stilwell knew that as soon as the layer burned off, the weekenders would start arriving. The harbormaster’s office had reported that it would be at full capacity for the first big weekend of summer. Stilwell was ready for it.
He heard another cart pull up behind his. An electric. Soon the seat next to Stilwell was taken by Lionel McKey.
“Good morning, Sergeant,” he said. “I thought I might find you here. Waiting for theAdjourned?”
“What can I do for you, Lionel?” Stilwell asked.
“Anything new to say about the mutilations up at the preserve? I’ve got about four hours till my deadline.”
“Mutilation,not mutilations. One mutilation. It’s still under investigation and I’ve got nothing new to report at this time. When I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It’s a promise.”
His answer was punctuated by a foghorn from somewhere inside the layer. Stilwell knew by the tone that it was the Catalina Express about to come through the shroud. He wanted to be over there to watch the arrivals as he did most free mornings, counting the number of tourists who came believing that the Casino was a gambling house only to learn that it was a grand ballroom and movie theater. But meeting theAdjournedwas more important this morning than counting fools.
“So what are you putting in the paper about it?” he asked.
“Well, not much,” McKey said. “I don’t want to look like an idiot, you know.”
“I think that’s wise.”
“Why, because you know something?”
“No, but I mean, use your common sense, Lionel. You really think it was a close encounter of the green kind?”
“No, not really.”
“Well, there you go. What time’s your deadline?”
“Two.”
“If anything changes before then, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll be at theCall.”
“And I’ve got your numbers.”
“Have a good weekend.”
“If I can. It’ll be busy.”
“For sure.”
McKey hopped out of the Gator and went back to his cart. As he drove off, Stilwell saw theCatalina Calllogo of linkedCs painted on the side panel.
A few seconds later the prow of the Express poked through the fog layer and headed toward the ferry landing on the other side of the harbor.
Following in its wake fifty yards behind was theAdjourned. Ithad been a smart move using the bigger vessel as a lead through the layer instead of coming in blind. The Express had the most modern navigational tools at the fingertips of its captain and crew.
TheAdjournedwas a forty-year-old Viking 35. Judge Harrell kept it clean and well maintained. It was white with distinctive blue trim and matching canvas over the salon’s windows. Stilwell watched it cut down the first mooring lane, past the floating dock behind the Black Marlin Club, and come to the last orange ball. Harrell cut the engines and used a gaff to hook the line under the ball. He was wearing a wet suit, which told Stilwell he would not need a dinghy pickup. The judge quickly moored the boat, then climbed over the stern to the fantail and jumped into the cold water.
Stilwell got out of the cart and went to the storage box on the back. He unlocked it and got two green-and-white-striped towels out and draped one of them over the passenger seat. By the time he had it in place, Harrell was climbing up the ladder onto the fuel dock.
Stilwell threw him the other towel.
