I

Boris had to wait to find out about the boat and outboard, because they both belonged to a local tour guide, and he was away for the day. He showed up during dinner, but only shook his head regretfully when Boris asked him to name his price. It wasn’t for sale, he assured him. His clients liked to go fishing and hiking and exploring the islands. Boris was welcome to rent it for a very modest sum, but this wasn’t just a boat, he must understand, it was his livelihood.

Boris wasn’t interested in a rental. He didn’t know how long he’d need it, or whether he’d want to come back this way; and there was also a fair chance it would get damaged or destroyed. Besides, it wasn’t his money. He fished out his wad, therefore, began slapping fiftyeuro notes down on the table. The tour guide trailed off and fell silent, licking his lower lip.

They dragged the boat into the shallows, rocked it this way and that to check for leaks. The outboard was an old Honda four-stroke, simple to fit, start and steer. Not ideal for long journeys, but perfectly adequate for burbling them down the coast, so they shook hands upon it, both happy with the bargain. Now all Boris needed was camping supplies. Oh. And his gun, of course.