“I don’t like you, Hausner. The next time I speak to the Lord, I’m just liable to congratulate him on his good taste. You’ve got a job at the National Hotel? Fuck you. I never liked that damned hotel either. You’ve got a nice apartment on Malecón? I hope a hurricane comes and wipes it out, you Argentine cocksucker. You don’t care what happens to you? Neither do I, pal. To me you’re just another South American greaseball with a smart mouth. You can’t think of a better story? Then you’re dumber than you look. You used to be a cop yourself? I don’t want to know, you piece of shit. All I want to hear from you is an explanation for how it is that you were helping a murderer escape from this miserable fucking island you call home. Did someone ask you a favor? If they did, I want a name. Someone introduced you? I want a fucking name. You picked her off the sidewalk? Give me the name of the damned street, you asshole. It’s talk or lock, pal. Talk or lock. We went fishing tonight and we caught you, Hausner. And I get to toss you in my ice locker unless you tell me everything I want to know. Talk or lock and I throw away the fucking key until I’m satisfied there’s no information left in your lying body that you haven’t puked onto the goddamn floor. The truth? I don’t give a shit. You want to walk out of here? Give me some plain, straightforward facts.”

I nodded. “Here’s one for you. Penguins live almost exclusively in the Southern Hemisphere. Is that plain enough?”

I pushed the chair back on two legs, which was my first mistake, and smiled, which was my second. The Navy captain was surprisingly quick on his feet. One moment he was staring at me like I was a snake in a bassinet, the next he was yelling as if he’d hammered his own thumb, and before I could wipe the smile from my face, he’d done it for me, kicking the chair away and then grabbing the lapels of my jacket and lifting my head off the floor only so that he could punch it back down again.