Here the Dark by David Bergen

Author:David Bergen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Biblioasis
Published: 2019-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

The men in uniforms who questioned him at the DNI in Tegucigalpa were called Chávez and Boquín and they were both in their thirties, and they both had straight white teeth and strong smiles. Chávez was the one who talked and he was talking now, leaning forward to speak, as if Quinn might be hard of hearing. He said that K., being a dead American, was of special interest and calls were being made and questions were being posed and the people at the American embassy had asked for a body, but it appeared that there was no body to deliver and how was this so? “Did you kill the American?” he asked.

“I did not,” Quinn said. “He died of exposure.”

“And you got rid of the body. Why do this? What were you hiding?”

“Nothing. I was hiding nothing. The body was decomposing and was stinking.”

“But you threw the body overboard just before the Carolina arrived.”

“I did not know the Carolina would be arriving. If I had known I would have not thrown the body into the ocean.”

“How well did you know this American, K.?”

“A little. I took him out fishing three times in total.”

“He was a rich man.” This was a statement, not a question, but Quinn felt that it still required a response.

He said that yes, he believed K. was a rich man.

“How much did he pay you for the trip?”

“Two thousand.”

“Dollars.”

“Yes.”

“Can anyone else verify this?”

“No. We were alone when he paid me.”

“And so it might have been one thousand. Or five hundred. It is your word against the word of a dead man. Did you have any reason to kill him?”

“I didn’t kill him.”

“The question is only hypothetical. But necessary. Did the two of you have an argument?”

“No.”

“Did this American, K., threaten you?”

“No, he didn’t.”

Chávez smiled. “He was a small man. We’ve seen your photographs. The ones you took. Why did you take them?”

Quinn did not speak for a time. Then he said that he had taken the photographs to prove that K. was dead. Because he feared that he would end up being interrogated. Which was now happening, and so his fears had proved to be quite real.

“But why be fearful if K. simply died of thirst and exposure? What was there to fear?”

“Not being believed,” Quinn said. “I am a fisherman with a small boat. Mr. K. is an American businessman. So, you see?”

Chávez nodded in agreement. He understood, but this was not his job. He required the facts. He asked if Quinn’s sister Clarita knew this man K.

“Briefly. A year ago.”

“They were lovers?”

“I don’t know.”

Chávez shrugged. “Your sister said the same. She didn’t know. How can she not know? Either they were, or they weren’t.”

“The man had many women. He talked constantly about them. About my sister, I do not know.”

“But you do know about the ocean, yes? You know the boats, you know the winds, the tides, the dangers. You know the engines. How is it that, as you say in your testimony, the

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