Matt wished he could add a dangerous note to his voice. The modulator erased all sense of emotion. He regretted that he had already used the tape of Jimmy crying. Heard a second time around, it would not be nearly as effective. Matt struggled with what to do next. The boat had already moved an additional fifty yards away. If it went much farther, he would have to approach the container partway on the surface, a risky move. He knew the instant the ransom went overboard, the helicopters would come roaring.

“Listen to me bluff,” Matt said. “I’m taking a lighted match. I’m touching it to your son’s arm. Listen to him scream.” Matt turned the volume way up and played the tape again, pressing the player against his cell. Jimmy sounded in agony. Matt heard David’s shouts on the line. He put the phone back to his ear.

“You fucking asshole! All right, all right, I’ll do it!”

“Throw the ransom overboard and continue on to Catalina to pick up your son.”

Matt hung up and watched. He still needed his binoculars. He had purposely killed all the lights aboard the rental boat. Of course, the FBI would have night goggles, and would still be able to see everything.

David struggled to lift the container onto the rail. He almost dropped the blasted thing and Matt silently swore at him. In that moment his hatred for David crystallized into a black needle that he wished to stab into the guy’s eye. The power of the emotion shook him to the core. He knew it had been Amy who had betrayed him—that David had known nothing of his involvement with her—but he still wanted the guy dead. The rage was primitive, the stuff of caveman brawls. This was the guy who was fucking his girl. Matt had to console himself with the knowledge that David was a victim as well. The jerk was going to all this trouble to save a child that was not his own.

The container fell into the water and disappeared. Matt was grateful the light had not gone on. But he worried it might remain off, although it had worked well in practice. Without the light it would take him time he did not have to locate the goods. Already the helicopter on the north side had turned and was coming their way at high speed.

Matt took a compass reading on the spot where the money had sunk and did his best to estimate the distance—three hundred yards, more than he would have preferred. Yet the added distance gave him an edge when it came to staying hidden. He seriously doubted anyone in the helicopters had spotted him floating all alone in the water.