“What did you find?” he asked Ara who sat down by the gray driftwood. Henry sat beside him.
“I found one. A young man. Dead.”
“He was a German all right,” Henry said. “He only had on shorts and he had very long hair, blond and sun-streaked, and he was face down in the sand.”
“Where was he shot?”
“At the base of the spine and in the back of the neck,” Ara said. “Rematado. Here are the bullets. I washed them.”
“Yes,” said Thomas Hudson. “I have four like them.”
“They’re 9mm Luger aren’t they?” Henry asked. “It’s the same caliber as our .38’s.”
“These with the black ends are for the machine pistol,” Thomas Hudson said. “Thanks for digging them out, doctor.”
“At your orders,” Ara said. “The neck one had gone clean through and I found it in the sand. Henry cut out the other one.”
“I didn’t mind it,” Henry said. “The wind and the sun had sort of dried him. It was like cutting into a pie. He wasn’t like those in there. Why did they kill him, Tom?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you think?” Ara asked. “Did they come in here to make repairs?”
“No. They’ve lost their boat.”
“Yes,” Ara said. “They took the boats.”
“Why was the sailor killed?” Henry asked. “You forgive me if I don’t sound too intelligent, Tom. But you know how much I want to do what I can and I’m so happy we have contact.”
“We haven’t contact,” Thomas Hudson said. “But Christ we’ve got a lovely scent.”
“Breast high?” Henry asked hopefully.
“Don’t mention that word to me.”
“But Tom, who killed the sailor and why?”
“Family trouble,” Thomas Hudson said. “Did you ever see a man shot in the base of the spine for kindness? Afterwards whoever did it was kind and shot him in the neck.”
“Maybe there were two,” said Ara.
“Did you find the hulls?”
“No,” Ara said. “I looked where they would be. Even if it was a machine pistol it would not have thrown them further than I looked.”
“It could be the same methodical bastard that picked up the other ones.”
“Where would they go?” Ara asked. “Where would they make for with the boats?”
“They have to go south,” Thomas said. “You know damned well they can’t go north.”
“And we?”
“I’m trying to think in their heads,” Thomas Hudson said. “I haven’t many facts to go on.”
“You have the deads and the boats gone,” Henry said. “You can think it out, Tom.”
“And one known weapon and where did they lose their undersea boat and how many are they? Stir that and add we couldn’t raise Guantánamo last night and add how many keys there are south of here plus when we have to fill our tanks. Add Peters and serve.”
“It will be all right, Tom.”
“Sure,” Thomas Hudson said. “All right and all wrong are identical twins in this business.”
“You’re confident we will get them though, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” Thomas Hudson said. “Now go and flag Willie in and let Antonio get started on his conches. We will have chowder. Ara, you load all the water you can in the next three hours. Tell Antonio to go ahead on the motors. I want to get out of here before dark. Was there nothing on the island? No pigs nor any fowl?”
“Nothing,” Ara told him. “They took everything.”
“Well, they will have to eat them. They have no feed for them and no ice. They are Germans so they are capable and they can get turtle in these months. I think we will find them at Lobos. It is logical they should take Lobos. Have Willie fill the ice-well with conches and we will take only enough water to the next key.”
He stopped and reconsidered, “No, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Fill water until sundown and I will take her out at moonrise. We lose three hours but we save six later on.”
“Did you taste the water?” Ara asked.
“Yes,” he said. “It was clean and good. You were quite right.”
“Thank you,” Ara said. “I will go now to call in Willie. He has been diving many.”