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Waldman didn’t seem convinced. “Really? You say the men were shooting at him while this man… you actually saw this man get away in the boat.”

“That’s right. I saw ’im.”

“Why didn’t you run away, Ms. Ebanks? A man his size was frightened; why weren’t you afraid?”

“’Cause the men with the guns, they didn’t see me. I back in the trees watching.”

Waldman was still suspicious. “In the trees, okay. You just stood there watching while they shot. How many shots were fired? Any idea?”

“Four, maybe five. I don’t know. I was watching with my eyes, not countin’ with my ears.”

“Not counting with your ears. Very amusing. Okay, they began to shoot at him. Then-take us through it step by step-after they started shooting, what happened?”

She was still staring into my eyes, trying to read something from me. Finally, she said, “He bang into the two pretty girls, like I tol’ you, and he so big the railing break and they go splashing in the water. That how he cut his arm. Musta hit the dock or somethin’, I’m guessing.”

Deputy Walker said, “That’s what he just told her to say. He was leading her, like I said.”

Waldman gave her a warning look. Then to Ransom Ebanks: “You saw him cut his arm on the dock? No offense, miss, but how can you be so sure one of the bullets didn’t hit him when the men were shooting? You say you did see them fire shots.”

She was nodding, suddenly very self assured. “ ’Cause I saw just the way it happened, that’s why I’m so sure. He went kinda trippin’ and stumblin’, holding them two women, and they all went crashing through the railing. That’s where I saw him catch that arm on a nail or something-I can’t be sure what it was, but the blood was flying. Then I watched them women run away into the trees while he go flyin’ off in the boat.”

“Was he alone in the boat?”

“That somethin’ I don’t know. But tell me this, Mr. Police-man. This gentleman”-she used her hand to indicate me-“does he look so dumb to you that he just stand around while men’s shooting at him?”

Then she laughed, showing pearl-white teeth, but her eyes were still focused on mine.

It suddenly became clear to me, the meaning of the direct eye contact and her intense expression. While she lied to the cops, she was also speaking nonverbally, looking through the lenses of my eyes, saying, You owe me.

5

T he Bahamian woman said, “You actin’ like it don’t hurt none, man. Like it no big deal. Almost like you used to getting shot, my brother.”

What my ears heard was: Yoo actin’ lie it doan huurt nawn, mon. Lie it no big dill…

An accent that fit her physiology. Look at the cinnamon skin, the bone structure, the braided hair, the gaudy golden ring on her right hand, and you saw twenty generations stylized by coconut palms, coral islands in a remote sea, and the patina of isolated British influence on African rootstock.

She was what? Probably in her mid-to-late thirties, but looked much younger, which is why I’d misjudged her age so badly the first time I saw her. Maybe forty, judging from the fine lines on the backs of her hands and at the corners of her eyes. A middle-aged woman, but very fit and in control of her body.

The cops were gone. Waldman had listened to her story patiently, asked a few questions, then said, since it was so late, would Ms. Ebanks be willing to give them an official statement in the morning?

She told him, “Yeah, man, but I got no place to sleep out here tonight. Maybe you ask the people at the fancy restaurant, up on the hill, they give me a free dinner and a place to stay, seein’s how I’m agreeing to help you. Get me a nice room with fancy pillows, but I’d like the bed be pointed north, you doan mind. That the only way a person get his directions in a foreign land. Sleep w’his head pointed north.”

She was a negotiator, maybe a manipulator, that much was becoming clear. The island girl wheedling herself some space among the rich Americans, already knowing how to do it, but seemingly unaware of how obvious she was and how naive she came off. Speaking of superstition as if to educate others.

It didn’t seem to bother Tomlinson at all, though. She’d already impressed him-that was easy enough to read. When he’s interested in a woman, his face assumes a concerned, spiritual glaze that attempts, but fails, to camouflage carnal interest.

“Ms. Ebanks,” he said, “you are most welcome to stay in the guest room of my cottage. We’ll point the bed any way you want. And food, well… let’s see, the restaurant’s already closed, but I can fix you a late supper. A nice Camembert with red wine? Or I’ll throw a salad together, spinach, asparagus and tomatoes. Put some music on, pound some alcohol, or-you’re from the islands?-we can burn something herbal, whatever you like.”

The law enforcement people exchanged looks- Can you believe this guy? -but she seemed to like the sound of it and smiled at him. Told Tomlinson to call her Ransom, just the way she said it, running it all together, Ransom Ebanks. She said, “I’ll stay in your house, Mr. Hipster man, but don’t be getting the wrong idea. I’m not going to be a thing for you to be bouncin’ on in your bed.”

“No worries, no worries. Hasn’t been a problem lately,” he replied.

Now the cops were gone and we were still in my bungalow, Tomlinson and the woman sitting together on the couch. I sat there listening to the two of them chatter away like old neighbors, still feeling weak, queasy, and a little restless, thinking she’d bring it up, but she didn’t. So I finally said, “Ransom? I hate to interrupt another one of Tomlinson’s fascinating tales, but I need to get to bed. I’m exhausted, but there’s something I want to ask you first.”

“You ask me anything you want, my brother.”

Why’d she keep calling me that?

I said, “You telephoned the front desk from the mainland and left a message for me. Why? We’ve never met-I’d certainly remember meeting someone like you. Then you show up here and tell the police that story about how I cut my arm when I fell off the dock. The whole thing very convincing. I couldn’t have asked for a better… a more useful statement. So my question is-”

“Your question is, why’d I lie for you? That what you askin’ me.”

I made a hushing motion with my hands. “Let’s keep our voices down. The whole chain of events, I don’t understand any of it. For one thing, what’re you doing here? They said you were here sightseeing. That makes sense, but why contact me? So, yeah, maybe that is the question: What’d you have to gain by lying?”

“Nothing to gain, man. I lied ’cause you wanted me to lie, didn’t you?”

“I… it’s not that I wanted you to lie. No, I wouldn’t use those words. What you probably don’t understand is that, the way the law’s set up, if I admit that one of those bullets nicked my arm, I’d have to spend the next several weeks answering questions from police. I’d be testifying and filling out forms-the whole thing would be a mess. My picture in the papers, reporters sniffing around-ask Tomlinson, it’s the sort of thing I hate. Which is why I’d prefer that they didn’t hear details about certain parts of the story. That’s all.”

“Um-huh, um-huh, meaning you wanted me to lie. I knew that, that’s why I did it. It not a thing hard to figure out, man. Down by that little bay, I watched you jump out the boat and wade ashore. First thing you tell me is I didn’t see you get shot. But I did see you get shot. Then you tell me I was imagining things. Man, your shorts was still drippin’ water when you say it to me. That’s how I know you want me to lie.” She tapped her index finger to her head. “I nobody’s fool. On the island where I live, the people, they all say I very quick, man. Very fast in the brain.”

I was beginning to believe it. Said to her, “It’s not that you did anything wrong. Or I did anything wrong.”