“Pretty young for retirement, aren’t you? The knee have something to do with it? I saw the surgical scar.”
“Yep.”
“You’ve got a New York driver’s license.”
“Yeah, I’m just a visitor to L.A.”
“Speaking as a native Californian, I’d like to apologize for the reception; we usually treat tourists better.”
“Apology accepted.”
“What yacht were you headed for when you…took the detour?”
“I don’t know her name; she’s probably big, though.”
“We were ashore for dinner, and on the way back to the boat we passed something of about a hundred and fifty feet called Contessa. Could that be her?”
“Could be.”
“She was the only really big thing in the anchorage; nothing else over eighty, ninety feet.”
“Contessa,” Stone repeated. He wanted to remember that. “What sort of boat am I on?”
“A Catalina Thirty-five, elderly.”
“She’s nicely kept,”, Stone said, looking around, “but I think your masthead light is out.”
“You’re right; I haven’t taken the time to go up and replace it.”
“I didn’t see her coming,” Stone said, rubbing his forehead.
“You’ve got a bump there.”
“It’ll go away.”
Helford handed Stone a sandwich and another cup of soup. “Something I need to ask you,” he said.
“Shoot.”
“Am I involved in something illegal here?”
“No. You just thwarted something illegal.”
“You’re a lawyer, according to your business card; should I be hiring a lawyer?”
Stone shook his head. “No need. The sandwich is wonderful.”
“Thanks. You’re sure I’m not going to be in any difficulties because of your problem?”
“Positive. You’re a Good Samaritan, and that’s it.”
“You said something about wanting to be dead.”
“No, I am dead, and I want to stay that way for a while.”
“So that whoever did this to you won’t try to do it again?”
“They’re not going to get a chance to do it again. It’s just that what I have to do now will be easier if they think they don’t have to worry about me.”