II

Boris took a table in the hotel’s large but completely empty restaurant, ordered a beer then spread out his map of the coast, wondering where Knox was headed in his pirogue.

‘What news from home?’ asked Davit, coming to join him.

‘I saw Knox earlier.’

‘You what? Where?’

Boris nodded seawards, to avoid explanations. ‘He sailed off with some fishermen,’ he said. ‘They headed south.’

‘And you’re sure it was him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why didn’t you talk to him?’

Boris laughed. Truly, Davit was an idiot. ‘He blames us for the death of his girlfriend. How do you think he’ll react when he sees us?’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes. Oh.’ He lit a cigarette, blew smoke at Davit’s face, though just enough to the side that he wouldn’t be sure it was an insult. ‘We need to get him on his own before we can explain what we’re doing.’

‘Makes sense,’ agreed Davit.

‘Glad you think so. Trouble is, we don’t know where he’s gone.’

‘I could ask Claudia. I’ll bet she knows the guys he went off with. Or maybe she could ask around for us.’

‘Discreetly, though,’ said Boris. ‘We don’t want Knox hearing about it.’

‘She’ll need something to go on,’ said Davit. ‘What did the fishermen look like?’

Boris thought back. ‘Their sail had a great big Western Union logo on it,’ he said.

‘Great,’ said Davit, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll go ask her now.’