“Oh, I can see you like the addition, Captain. But I’m a respectable businessman. I’m quite well-off. I have a nice apartment in Havana. A job at a hotel casino. I’m hardly the type to work for the communists. And the girl? She’s just a chica.”

“Maybe. But she murdered a Cuban policeman. Very nearly murdered one of mine.”

“Perhaps. But did you see me shoot anyone? I didn’t even raise my voice. In my business, girls—girls like Melba—they’re one of the fringe benefits. What they get up to in their spare time is—” I paused for a moment, searching for the best phrase in English. “Hardly my affair.”

“It is when she shoots an American on your boat.”

“I didn’t even know she had a gun. If I’d known that, I would have thrown it over the side. And maybe her, too. And if I had any idea that she was suspected of murdering a policeman, I would never have invited Senõrita Marrero to come away with me.”

“Let me tell you something about your girlfriend, Mr. Hausner.” Mackay stifled a belch, but not nearly enough for my comfort. He took off his glasses and breathed on them, and somehow they didn’t crack. “Her real name is María Antonia Tapanes, and she was a prostitute at a casa in Caimanera, which is how she came to steal a sidearm belonging Petty Officer Marcus. That’s why he recognized her when he saw her on your boat. We strongly suspect she was put up to the assassination of Captain Balart by the rebels. In fact, we’re more or less sure of it.”

“I find that very hard to believe. She never once mentioned politics to me. She seemed more interested in having a good time than in having a revolution.”

The captain opened one of the files in front of him and pushed it toward me.