ALI NESSER: Certainly. First we map out what’s called a “search box”—an area maybe five miles by five miles—based on last known signals and sea currents. In that search box, we’ll tow a side-scan sonar and a magnetometer, which measures any change in the magnetic field and sends back images in real time. Basically, we’ll keep scouring the area, hoping to pick up a signal of something sizable, like a sunken yacht. If we don’t get a signal, we’ll widen the box. If we do get a signal, we’ll send a probe down for a better look.

REPORTER: Is there any chance you could raise the ship?

ALI NESSER: That’s something you’d have to ask the folks who are paying for the search.

REPORTER: But is it possible?

ALI NESSER: Anything is possible. I’m not sure why you’d want to.

REPORTER: Well, as you know, many well-known people died in that disaster.

ALI NESSER: Yes, and that ship is their grave. Do you really want to disturb it?

REPORTER: I suppose that’s for someone else to decide.

ALI NESSER: I suppose so.

REPORTER: Reporting live, I’m Tyler Brewer. Jim?

Land

Dobby put his hands above his head and slowly rose from the lectern.

“I gotta stand up, please,” he pleaded. “My back is killing me.”

LeFleur kept the gun pointed, but he, too, was getting tired. The reading of the notebook had been draining. He realized this wasn’t the most well-thought-out plan, coming to the exclusion zone to pry out a confession. He had no backup. If something went wrong, he was a long way from help.

“I’m still waiting for an answer,” LeFleur said. “How did you do it? Why did you do it?”

Dobby lowered his hands to the filthy podium. He pushed some ash away with his fingers. “Look,” he said. “I don’t really want to tell you all this. But I can see it’s the only way you’re going to believe me.”

“You’re gonna say you were never on that yacht?”

“I never was. I saw it. I’d gone with Benji to Cape Verde, and I drove him to the docks the morning they loaded up. I was worried about him. He’d been through a lot, and he was acting strange. Agitated. I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“Why go to the docks?” LeFleur asked.

“This manager of Fashion X was supposed to be there. I wanted to say hello. To be honest, I was hoping he’d hire me for their next tour. That’s all. I swear.”

“So you saw the Galaxy?”

“I saw it. It was a beast, just like he wrote. A monument to greed and excess.”

“Now you sound like the man in the notebook.”