Hooper could hardly breathe. He clawed at Brody’s fingers. “Nothing!” he said, choking. “Nothing!” He tried to back away, but Brody gripped him tighter.

“What did you mean by that?”

“Nothing, I tell you! I was angry. It was something to say.”

“Where were you last Wednesday afternoon?”

“Nowhere!” Hooper’s temples were throbbing. “Let me go! You’re choking me!”

“Where were you?” Brody twisted his fists tighter.

“In a motel! Now let me go!”

Brody eased his grip. “With who?” he said, praying to himself, God, don’t let it be Ellen; let his alibi be a good one.

“Daisy Wicker.”

“Liar!” Brody tightened his grip again, and he felt tears begin to squeeze from his eyes.

“What do you mean?” said Hooper, struggling to free himself.

“Daisy Wicker’s a goddam lesbian! What were you doing, knitting?”

Hooper’s thoughts were fogging. Brody’s knuckles were cutting off the flow of blood to his brain. His eyelids flickered and he began to lose consciousness. Brody released him and pushed him down to the dock, where he sat, sucking air.

“What do you say to that?” said Brody. “Are you such a hotshot you can fuck a lesbian?”

Hooper’s mind cleared quickly, and he said, “No. I didn’t find out until … until it was too late.”

“What do you mean. You mean she went with you to a motel and then turned you down? No dyke is gonna go to any motel room with you.”

“She did!” said Hooper, desperately trying to keep pace with Brody’s questions. “She said she wanted … that it was time she tried it straight. But then she couldn’t go through with it. It was awful.”

“You’re bullshitting me!”

“I’m not! You can check with her yourself.” Hooper knew it was a weak excuse. Brody could check it out with no trouble. But it was all he could think of. He could stop on the way home that evening and call Daisy Wicker from a phone booth, beg her to corroborate his story. Or he could simply never return to Amity—turn north and take the ferry from Orient Point and be out of the state before Brody could reach Daisy Wicker.

“I will check,” said Brody. “You can count on it.”

Behind him, Brody heard Quint laugh and say, “That’s the funniest thing I ever did hear. Tried to lay a lesbian.”

Brody tried to read Hooper’s face, searching for anything that might betray a lie. But Hooper kept his eyes fixed on the dock.

“Well, what do you say?” said Quint. “We going today or not? Either way, Brody, it’ll cost you.”

Brody felt shaken. He was tempted to cancel the trip, to return to Amity and discover the truth about Hooper and Ellen. But suppose the worst was true. What could he do then? Confront Ellen? Beat her? Walk out on her? What good would that do? He had to have time to think. He said to Quint, “We’ll go.”

“With the cage?”

“With the cage. If this asshole wants to kill himself, let him.”