Jake counted out the berths as he walked, not actually using his fingers, but moving his lips as he read the numbers. He came to berth 14. Two young men were lounging in the cockpit, drinking beer. Neither fit the description of the suspects. Jake walked down the catwalk alongside the yacht and stood next to the cockpit, maybe eight feet from where the two boys sat. They glanced at him, then went back to their conversation, dismissing any importance he might have.

They think I’m just another tourist, Jake thought with satisfaction. “Ahoy, there,” he said.

One of the boys looked up at him. “Ahoy?” He chuckled. “What can we do for you, Popeye?”

“I’m looking for two twins,” he consulted his notebook, “named Edwin and Elmer Stone?”

“Eben and Enos,” the boy corrected.

“Yeah, them. Are they aboard?”

The boy waved a hand. “You see them?”

“Are they downstairs?”

“Downstairs?”

“Down there,” Jake said, pointing at the cabin. He hated these Boston pups, the arrogant little sons of bitches.

“There’s just us,” the boy said.

“Where can I find, uh…”

“Eben and Enos?”

“Yeah.”

“They went ashore a few minutes ago.”

“Where ashore?”

“They had some stuff to buy, beer and stuff.”

“When are they coming back?”

“Who knows? We don’t sail until tomorrow.”

“They got a phone call up at the dockmaster’s office.”

The boy shrugged. “What can I tell you?”

“They got a cell phone number I can send the call to?”

“Yeah.” The boy made a little face to show he was trying to remember, then he spat out a number. “Try them on that.”

“Got it,” Jake said, scribbling the number in his notebook. “Thanks, guys.” He turned and walked back up the dock.

THE TWO BOYS WAITED until he was twenty feet away before they burst out laughing. One of them took a cell phone from his pocket and tapped in a number.

“Hello?”

“Which one is this?”

“Enos.”

“A cop was just at the boat,” he said. “Like you predicted. Funny guy; he actually said, ‘Ahoy.’”

“Are you sure he was a cop? Was he in uniform?”

“He was wearing a white undershirt and khakis, and shiny black shoes and a web belt with a shiny brass buckle, and he had a white sidewall haircut, and there was a big bulge on his belt. Who else would he be?”

“What did he say?”

“He wanted you and Eben, and I told him you went ashore for beer. He said you had a call at the dockmaster’s office, and I gave him your cell number.”

“Okay.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah, we had a great night with the girls, even if they are underage. Thanks for covering for us; we don’t want to deal with their old man.”

“Do it once for me.”

“You bet.”

BACK AT THE DOCKMASTER’S office, Jake got into his shirt and cap before calling Sergeant Young.

“This is Young.”