Without Remorse

'One- six-five, aye.'

Xantha was more or less sober, though weak. Her dark skin had a gray pallor to it, and she complained of a splitting headache that analgesics had scarcely touched. She was aware that she was under arrest now, and that her rap sheet had arrived on teletype. She was also canny enough to have requested the presence of a lawyer. Strangely, this had not bothered the police very much.

'My client,' the attorney said, 'is willing to cooperate.' The agreement had taken all of ten minutes to strike. If she was telling the truth, and if she was not involved in a major felony, the possession charge against her would be dropped, subject to her enrollment in a treatment program. It was as good a deal as anyone had offered Xantha Matthews in some years. It was immediately appearent why this was true.

'They was gonna kill me!' she said, remembering it all now that she was outside the influence of the barbiturates, and now that her attorney gave her permission to speak.

'Who's "they"?' Captain Joy asked.

'They dead. He killed '?m, the white boy, shot 'em dead. An' he left the drugs, whole shitload of 'em.'

'Tell us about the white man,' Joy asked, with a look to Freeland that ought to have been disbelieving but was not.

'Big dude, like him' - she pointed to Freeland - 'but he face all green like a leaf. He blindfold me af'er he took me down, then he put me on that pier an' tol' me to catch a bus or somethin'.'

'How do you know he was white?'

'Wrists was white. Hands was green, but not up here, like,' she said, indicating on her own arms. 'He wear green clothes with stripes on 'em, like a soldier, carry a big.45.I was asleep when he shoot, that wake me up, see? Make me get dress, take me away, drop me off, he boat just go away.'

'What kind of boat?'

'Big white one, tall, like, big, like thirty feet lon'.'

'Xantha, how do you know they were going to kill you?'

'White boy say so, he show me the things in the boat, the little one.'

'What do you mean?'

'Fishnet shit, like, and cement blocks. He say they tell him they do it before.'

The lawyer decided it was his turn to speak. 'Gentlemen, my client has information about what may be a major criminal operation. She may require protection, and in return for her assistance, we would like to have state funding for her treatment.'

'Counselor,' Joy replied quietly, 'if this is what it sounds like, I'll fund it out of my own budget. May I suggest, sir, that we keep her in our lockup for the time being? For her own safety, the need for which seems quite apparent, sir.' The State Police captain had been negotiating with lawyers for years, and had started sounding like one, Freeland thought.

'The food here is fo' shit!' Xantha said, her eyes closed in pain.

'We'll take care of that, too,' Joy promised her.

'I think she needs some medical help,' the lawyer noted. 'How can she get it here?'

'Doctor Paige will be here right after lunch to see her. Counselor, your client is in no condition to look after herself now. All charges against her are dropped pending verification of her story. You'll get everything you want, in return for her cooperation. I can't do any more than that.'

'My client agrees to your conditions and suggestions,' the lawyer said without consulting her. The county would even pay his fee. Besides, he felt as though he might be doing the world a good deed. It was quite a change from getting drunk drivers off.

'There's a shower that way. Why not get her cleaned up? You may also wish to get her some decent things to wear. Give us the bill.'

'A pleasure doing business with you. Captain Joy,' he said as the barracks commander left for Freeland's car.

'Ben, you really fell into something. You handled her real nice. I won't forget. Now show me how fast this beast goes.'

'You got it, Cap'n.' Freeland engaged the lights before passing seventy. They made it to the dock just as the Coast Guard turned out of the main channel.

The man wore lieutenant's bars - though he called himself a captain - and Oreza saluted him as he came aboard. Both police officers were given life jackets to wear because Coast Guard regulations required them on small boats, and then Joy showed him the chart.

'Think you can get in there?'

'No, but our launch can. What gives?'

'A possible triple homicide, possible drug involvement. We overflew the area this morning. There's a fishing boat right here.'

Oreza nodded as impassively as possible and took the wheel himself, pushing the throttles to the stops. It was a bare five miles to the graveyard - that was how Oreza thought of it - and he plotted his approach as carefully as possible.

'No closer? The tide's in,' Freeland said.

'That's the problem. Place like this, you go it at low water so's in case you beach you can float off. From here on we use the launch.' Wheels were turning in his mind while his crewmen got the fourteen-foot launch deployed. Months earlier, that stormy night with lieutenant Charon from Baltimore, a possible drug deal that he'd expected to take place somewhere on the Bay. Some real serious guys, he'd told Portagee. Oreza already wondered if there might be a connection.

They motored in, powered by a ten-horse outboard. The quartermaster took note of the tidal flow, following what appeared to be a channel that meandered generally in the direction indicated by their marked-up chart. It was quiet in here, and Oreza remembered his tour of duty for Operation market time, the Coast Guard's effort to assist the Navy in Vietnam. He'd spent time with the brown-water guys, running Swift boats manufactured right in Annapolis by the Trumpy Yard. It was so similar, the tall grass that could, and often did, conceal people with guns. He wondered if they might be facing something similar soon. The cops were fingering their revolvers, and Oreza asked himself, too late, why he hadn't brought a Colt with him. Not that he knew how to use it. His next thought was that this would have been a good place to have Kelly with him. He wasn't quite sure what the story was on Kelly, but he suspected the man was one of the SEALs, with whom he'd worked briefly in the Mekong Delta. Sure as hell he'd gotten that Navy Cross for something, and the tattoo on his arm wasn't there by accident.

'Well, damn,' Oreza breathed. 'Looks like a Starcraft sixteen... no, more like eighteen.' He lifted his portable radio. 'Four-One Alpha, this is Oreza.'

'Reading you, Portagee.'

'We got the boat, right where they said. Stand by.'

'Roger.'

Suddenly things got very tense indeed. The two cops exchanged a look, wondering why they hadn't brought more people out. Oreza eased his launch right up to the Starcraft. The cops got aboard gingerly.

Freeland pointed to the back. Joy nodded. There were six cement blocks and a rolled-up section of nylon netting. Xantha hadn't lied about that. There was also a rope ladder going up. Joy went first, his revolver in his right hand. Oreza just watched as Freeland followed. Once they got to the deck, the men wrapped both hands around their handguns and headed for the superstructure, disappearing from view for what seemed like an hour, but in reality was only four minutes. Some birds scattered aloft. When Joy came back, his revolver wasn't visible.

'We have three bodies up here, and a hell of a large quantity of what looks like heroin. Call your boat, have them tell my barracks that we need crime lab. Sailor, you just started running a ferry service.'

'Sir, fish-and-game has better boats for this. Want me to call them to support you?'

'Good idea. You might want to circle around this area some. The water looks pretty clear, and she told us that they've dumped some bodies hereabouts. See the stuff in the fishing boat?' Oreza looked, noticing the fishnet and blocks for the first time.

Jesus. "That's how you do it. Okay, I'll motor around.' Which he did, after making his radio call.

'Hi, Sandy.'

'John! Where are you?'

'My place in town.'