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Back Blood in the Water
Chapters (82)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY
  54. FIFTY-ONE
  55. FIFTY-TWO
  56. FIFTY-THREE
  57. FIFTY-FOUR
  58. FIFTY-FIVE
  59. FIFTY-SIX
  60. FIFTY-SEVEN
  61. FIFTY-EIGHT
  62. FIFTY-NINE
  63. SIXTY
  64. SIXTY-ONE
  65. SIXTY-TWO
  66. SIXTY-THREE
  67. SIXTY-FOUR
  68. SIXTY-FIVE
  69. SIXTY-SIX
  70. SIXTY-SEVEN
  71. SIXTY-EIGHT
  72. SIXTY-NINE
  73. SEVENTY
  74. SEVENTY-ONE
  75. SEVENTY-TWO
  76. SEVENTY-THREE
  77. SEVENTY-FOUR
  78. SEVENTY-FIVE
  79. SEVENTY-SIX
  80. Praise for Blood in the Water
  81. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  82. Newsletter Sign-up

As Chaplain writhed on the deck, Cicero squatted next to him. “Listen carefully, Nate,” he said. “You’re only going to get one chance at this. Only three people knew that Cormack was at the Mariner last night. One of them was Cookie, the bartender. Good man. He’s dead now. The others were you, and your pal Buddy Cavanaugh. It seems Buddy was smart enough to disappear. No one can find him. That leaves me with you. I’m going to need to know everything, understand?”

Nate Chaplain’s convulsions had subsided, but he was still gasping for breath. A thick white line of saliva ran from his lips to the wood below him, and he struggled to talk. “I don’t know anything, I swear!” he screamed.

“That’s too bad,” said Cicero. “It’s going to make it less pleasant.”

“No! Wait! Please! I’ll tell you anything!”

“Did you talk to Soh?”

“No, I didn’t! I swear it!”

“Where is Buddy?”

“He has an apartment. It’s in the projects.”

“We know that. He’s not there. Where is he?”

“I don’t know. I swear to God!” Chaplain was sobbing now, pulling desperately at the ropes. But Cap hadn’t lied; he knew his knots.

Cicero nodded to Cap, and the large man with the gnarled hands moved up into the pilot house and started the engine. He pointed the boat into the wind and eased her forward. Then he locked the wheel so the boat would stay straight and came back to the stern. He and Peter picked Chaplain up under the armpits and dragged him to the open stern.

“Oh God! Please no! For the love of Christ!” Chaplain screamed as they threw him in.

The boat pulled away until the slack in the rope was expended and Chaplain’s body was dragged through the frigid water by the feet. His hands were tied, so there was no way for him to keep his head above the water. Above them, seagulls circled.

“How long?” Cap asked.

“One minute,” Cicero responded.

Cap looked at his watch as the second hand spun. Then he and Peter grabbed the rope that was tied to the cleat at the stern and began hauling Chaplain back on board.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The Holiday Inn in South Boston had seen better days. As Diamond lay in bed, listening to Buddy’s even breathing, she looked around the room. The walls were taupe and matched the rug, except where the stains on the carpet provided some contrast. The headboard was screwed to the wall, and the flimsy bedframe squeaked, which she was sure had raised eyebrows among the passing cleaning staff in the halls in the mid-afternoon. At least the sheets seemed clean, if somewhat stiff and scratchy from repeated harsh washing to scrub each successive guest’s secret sins away.