Hoagie tried to remember the number of docks on Whiskey Cay. The wharf on Mike's beach, a few halfruined landings like the one behind Romeo's funeral home, where they'd tied a DEA Cigarette to make the scam look more legitimate—that was all.

And the landing at old Salt Hole, on the ocean side of the cay, where Lomas had launched the hit men who'd made a sieve out of his wing.

He stepped out of the booth and joined the crowd on Kingston Street.

Something was happening on the beach. On the bandstand, the Royal Bahamas Police Force Band was ending "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean" in a reluctant, discordant sigh, as if nobody knew when to stop. Behind Carla's statue, which he saw as a frozen waterspout hurling a dugout aloft, the municipal choir was deserting the stand.

Whatever the problem on the beach, he had no time to be curious. He must find Lomas before Lomas escaped, regrouped, and had him killed.

***

The great white shark was excited. The reggae music thumped above, magnified by the steel hull of the municipal barge. The rhythm struck a chord in his brain; it seemed to match the heartbeat of an albacore being pursued.

The snarl of the outboard engine towing the banana boat infuriated him. Dimly he associated it with the growl of the diesel on Neptune's Folly and the harpoon point working its way deeper and deeper into his flesh.

He would have gone for the towboat had it not been for the high-pitched voices he heard laughing and screaming above. He diverted his course and made a pass below the banana boat.

From below, it looked like a swimming centipede. Ten legs dangled, tugging myriad bubbles as they moved swiftly through the water.

He banked like a cruising airliner, circling his prey. When he attacked, he came at the banana boat from the rear.

Margaret de Lacey, with a hand on Thea's leg, glanced ashore. Everyone was lining the beach, waving.

She could not remember such enthusiasm in prior years, but every year the parade grew more elaborate. They were probably cheering the TV queen from Nassau, who was popular in these outlying islands, which felt themselves to be cut off.

Suddenly the banana boat hit the wake of the big Egg Harbor cruiser ahead. She could hear Thea squealing as they hobby-horsed through the waves. She turned to see that the child was hanging on.

Behind Thea, she saw a fin. From her low vantage point it looked like the Rock of Gibraltar, awash in a streaming tide. It was rushing up their wake.

Instinctively she turned her body, yanked Thea from her place, and body-slammed her athwartship between her daughter and herself.

Her last thought, as she braced to take the impact, was that she'd sprained her back.

For an instant she was in shadow, as the great white's jaws sprung open.