“I think whoever found that raft was having a laugh on you, Jarty.”

He threw his duffel over his shoulder and walked into the terminal.

* * *

LeFleur drove back toward his office, thinking about what Dobby had said. He pictured the first day he and Rom had met, and their trip up to Marguerita Bay. Rom had let LeFleur examine the raft by himself. And every time LeFleur glanced over, Rom was looking away, staring at the hills, as if he’d never seen the place before.

But he had seen the place before. Otherwise how would he have reported the location? And Marguerita Bay was not easy to get to; you had to park on that lookout and walk down that path. Teenagers would often hang out there, smoking and drinking, because they could easily hide if they saw someone coming . . .

LeFleur hit the brakes and spun the jeep around.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, he was hurrying down that path to the water. When he reached the beach, he removed his shoes and splashed along the wet sand. The sky was without clouds, and the sea came up a turquoise blue. As he edged around a tall rock formation, he saw a thin, bearded figure sitting in the distance, leaning back on his palms, as small waves broke and reached his legs before retreating.

LeFleur got within a few feet before the man turned his head.

“Rom?”

“Hello, Inspector.”

“A lot of folks have been looking for you.”

The man said nothing. LeFleur squatted down next to him.

“How long have you been on this island? Really?”

“A little while.”

“And that raft had been here long before you came to the station.”

“That’s right.”

“You always knew I’d find that notebook, didn’t you? You’d already read it.”

“Yes.”

“And you left me those last pages in that envelope.”

“I did.”

LeFleur pursed his lips. “Why?”

“I thought they might help you.” Rom turned. “Did they?”

“Yeah,” LeFleur sighed. “Actually, they did.” He paused, studying Rom’s face. “But how did you know I needed help?”

“When we first met. The photo of your family. Your wife. Your little girl. I saw the pain in your eyes. I knew you must have lost someone in that picture.”

LeFleur grunted. Rom raked his hands through the sand.

“Did you believe the story you read, Inspector?”

“Some of it.”

“Which part?”

“Well. I believe Benji was in the raft.”

“Just him?”

LeFleur thought. “No. Not just him.”

Rom wiggled his fingers and produced a tiny crab. He held it up. “Did you know a crab will escape its shell thirty times before it dies?” He looked out to sea. “This world can be a trying place, Inspector. Sometimes you have to shed who you were to live who you are.”

“Is that why you changed your name?” LeFleur asked. “Rum Rosh? ‘God lifted your head’?”