The Stranger in the Lifeboat(21)

That’s how it began.



Dobby’s “friend” was a road manager for rock bands, including Fashion X, which was slated to perform on the Galaxy Friday night. Over the years, Dobby had worked as a road crew member with different acts. It was how he earned what little money he had. He was good with musical equipment, and he liked the travel, the action, the fast setups and breakdowns.

I always knew this. What I didn’t know was that he was parlaying his roadie connections into a terrible plan that involved me. His idea was to get his friend to employ him for the Fashion X concert, then preload equipment onto the Galaxy, including instruments, amplifiers, mixing boards, and one object that looked like it fit in but did not:

A limpet mine.

I did not know what a limpet mine was, Annabelle. I do now. Dobby told me. It is a naval explosive device that attaches with magnets to the underbellies of boats. Frogmen often affix them to hulls in secret, then blow them up from afar. Limpet mines have been used since World War II. How Dobby got access to one, I will never know.

But apparently he snuck this limpet mine in with the musical equipment. It was Friday afternoon, the last day of the Grand Idea voyage. He asked me to help him carry a drum case along the second deck. When we were alone, Dobby stopped, unlocked the top, and lifted it slightly.

“Look, cousin,” he said. Inside I saw a round dark-green device, a foot in diameter and six inches high.

“What is it?” I said.

“Something big enough to take this whole yacht down. And Jason Lambert and his rich friends with it.”

I was too stunned to respond. My breathing accelerated. My eyes darted down the corridor. Dobby began whispering about how I could lower him on a rope at night, when the Galaxy was anchored, then he’d attach this mine to the hull below the water line, where it could inflict the greatest damage.

I barely heard him. A thrumming sound had started in my head.

“What are you talking about?” I finally stammered. “I never—”

“Benji, listen to me. Do you know the effect this will have? There’s a former president on this yacht! There are high-tech billionaires who have been ripping people off for years! There are bankers, hedge-fund guys, and best of all, that pig Lambert. All these so-called Masters of the Universe. We can take them all out. It’ll be historic. We are gonna make history, Benji!”

I slammed the top shut. “Dobby,” I seethed, “you’re talking about killing people.”

“People who are awful to other people,” he said. “Who manipulate them. Exploit them. Like Lambert. You hate him, don’t you?”

“We can’t play God.”

“Why not? God isn’t doing anything about it.”

When I didn’t react, he gripped my forearm. His voice lowered. “Come on, cousin,” he said. “This is our moment. For all the crap we put up with as kids. For your mother. For Annabelle.”

When he mentioned your name, I swallowed so hard, I thought my tongue went down my throat.

“What happens to us?” I mumbled.

“Well, we’re the captains of this idea.” He blew out his cheeks. “Captains go down with the ship.”

“You mean—”

“I mean,” he interrupted, squinting at me, “either something’s important to you or it isn’t. You want to make a statement? Or be a doormat the rest of your life, polishing thrones so rich people can sit on them?”

The thrumming had turned into a pounding in my temples. I felt dizzy.

“Dobby,” I whispered. “Do you want to … die?”

“It’s better than living like an ant.”

It wasn’t until that moment, Anabelle, that I knew he was mad.

“I won’t do it,” I said, the words barely audible.

His eyes flashed.

“I won’t do it,” I said, louder.

“Come onnnn, cousin.”

I shook my head.

I can barely describe the look he gave me then. Sorrow, betrayal, disbelief, like I could not have let him down more if I tried. He held that gaze a long time, his lower lip drooping like it did when he was a boy. Then he closed his mouth and cleared his throat.

“All right,” he said. “You are who you are.”

He lifted the case, turned his back to me, then walked down the corridor and disappeared through a door. And I did nothing to stop him, my love, nothing at all.





Land





“Jarty?” Patrice yelled down. “Who called?”

LeFleur sighed. He had hoped she was already asleep.

“Nobody,” he yelled up.

He heard her footsteps on the stairs. He tucked the notebook in his briefcase and raised the volume on the soccer game.

Patrice appeared in the doorway.

“ ‘Nobody’ doesn’t call the house on a Sunday night,” she said. “Jarty, what’s going on?”

He ran a palm across his forehead, squeezing the skin as if trying to lure out an answer.

“OK,” he said. “It wasn’t just junk that floated up on the north shore. It was a raft.”

“What kind of raft?”

“A life raft,” he said.

She sat down. “Were there any—”