“All right,” said Whitman. “But what I still don’t get is why the shark can’t be caught.”

“Maybe it can be,” said Hooper. “But I don’t think by us. At least not with the equipment we have here. I suppose we could try chumming again.”

“Yeah,” said Brody. “Ben Gardner can tell us all about chumming.”

“Do you know anything about some fellow named Quint?” said Whitman.

“I’ve heard the name,” Brody said. “Did you ever look into the guy, Harry?”

“I read what little there was. As far as I know, he’s never done anything illegal.”

“Well,” said Brody, “maybe it’s worth a call.”

“You’re joking,” said Hooper. “You’d really do business with this guy?”

“I’ll tell you what, Hooper. At this point, if someone came in here and said he was Superman and he could piss that shark away from here, I’d say fine and dandy. I’d even hold his dick for him.”

“Yeah, but …”

Brody cut him off. “What do you say, Harry? You think he’s in the phone book?”

“You really are serious,” said Hooper.

“You bet your sweet ass. You got any better ideas?”

“No, it’s just … I don’t know. How do we know the guy isn’t a phony or a drunk or something?”

“We’ll never know till we try.” Brody took a phone book from the top drawer of his desk and opened it to the Qs. He ran his finger down the page. “Here it is. ‘Quint.’ That’s all it says. No first name. But it’s the only one on the page. Must be him.” He dialed the number.

“Quint,” said a voice.

“Mr. Quint, this is Martin Brody. I’m the chief of police over in Amity. We have a problem.”

“I’ve heard.”

“The shark was around again today.”

“Anybody get et?”

“No, but one boy almost did.”

“Fish that big needs a lot of food,” said Quint.

“Have you seen the fish?”

“Nope. Looked for him a couple times, but I couldn’t spend too much time looking. My people don’t spend their money for looking. They want action.”

“How did you know how big it is?”

“I hear tell. Sort of averaged out the estimates and took off about eight feet. That’s still a piece of fish you got there.”

“I know. What I’m wondering is whether you can help us.”

“I know. I thought you might call.”

“Can you?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On how much you’re willing to spend, for one thing.”

“We’ll pay whatever the going rate is. Whatever you charge by the day. We’ll pay you by the day until we kill the thing.”

“I don’t think so,” said Quint. “I think this is a premium job.”

“What does that mean?”

“My everyday rate’s two hundred a day. But this is special. I think you’ll pay double.”

“Not a chance.”

“Good-bye.”

“Wait a minute! Come on, man. Why are you holding me up?”

“You got no place else to go.”

“There are other fishermen.”

Brody heard Quint laugh—a short, derisive bark. “Sure there are,” said Quint. “You already sent one. Send another one. Send half a dozen more. Then when you come back to me again, maybe you’ll even pay triple. I got nothing to lose by waiting.”