“Yes, I would have been here in a minute.” “You're different from the others. They wanted us to ship one of these babies up for them to look at.”

“Why didn't you do it?” “We were going to, but after what happened to Charlie Marstons, the fishermen got scared and said to hell with it and moved on.”

“Who was Charlie Marstons?” Paul said.

“Charlie was an old-timer. Fished these waters for years even after it got hard for him to get around because of a bad leg. He was a stub- born old coot, though, and liked to go out alone. They found him- or what was left of him-coupla miles east of here. From the looks of it, he caught a bunch of these lunkers, got too close and maybe his bum leg gave out. Hardly enough left to bury.”

“You're saying the fish killed him?”

“No other explanation. That's when the boys started leaving. I would have gone with them if I had my boat. Funny,” he said with a grin, “one of those babies is my ticket out of here.”

Gamay was already thinking ahead. “I want to bring it back to the lab for analysis.”

“Suits me fine,” Neal said. “We'll box it up as soon as it's safe.” He pointed the Tiffany back to land. By the time they pulled up to the dock, the fish was practically dead, but it managed a few spas- modic snaps, enough to warrant keeping it on board awhile longer. Neal recommended a boarding house where they could stay the night. Gamay gave him a hundred-dollar bonus, and they agreed to meet the next morning.

A pleasant middle-aged couple warmly welcomed them at the board- ing house, a Victorian structure at the edge of town. From the en- thusiasm with which they were greeted, Paul and Gamay figured that the B and B didn't get much business. The room was cheap and clean, and the couple cooked them a hearty dinner. They had a good night's sleep, and the next morning, after a huge breakfast, they set out to find Neal and reclaim their fish.

The pier was deserted. More worrisome, there was no sign of Neal or the Tiffany. They asked at the boatyard, but nobody had seen him since the day before when he'd paid for his engine work. A few men were idling around the waterfront because they had nothing better to do. No one had seen Neal that morning. The bartender they'd met the day before strolled by on his way to open up the restaurant. They asked if he had any idea where Neal might be.