Cargo for the Styx by Louis Trimble Page A

galley. I could see very well. A hole the shape of a refrigerator door let light down through the roof of the cabin. Another hole let in more light through what had once been the starboard side of the galley.
    I could smell the hiss of butane escaping from broken pipes. I got a whiff of ammonia. That was all I had left of my refrigerator—the stink of ammonia.
    I scrambled aft and jumped to the dock. I was looking for Clarence. I didn’t really expect to find him. I didn’t want to find him. But I had to look.
    There wasn’t much to see. The forepart of my main cabin was gone. A little debris littered the dock. A head of lettuce floated on the water. A few dying ripples against the dock pilings hinted that something heavy had dropped into the harbor and tossed up a few waves.
    I walked up to the debris on the dock. I bent and touched a piece of painted wood. I recognized it as having come from the cabin roof. There was a single spot of blood over the paint.
    I heard the siren in the distance. The fire department again, and in time Lieutenant Nicolo. I had the feeling that two explosions in one afternoon were going to be too much for Nicolo.
    I ran up the dock to Clarence’s car. I didn’t think he’d mind if I borrowed it. I needed two minutes to jump the ignition. I backed the car around and gunned onto Harbor Way. I could see the red fire truck coming fast from the south. I aimed north, up to The Point.
    I put Clarence’s sedan in Aggie’s garage. The Ferrari was still there; the Cadillac hadn’t yet returned. I didn’t bother with the front door this time. I was through being polite.
    I found a path that led between the garage and the house. It took me to a side door that opened into the kitchen. I stepped from the kitchen to a flagstoned terrace. From there I could see the swimming pool. I could also see Bonnie Minos.
    She was poised on the diving board. She made a clean dive.
    I watched her swim toward me. She had a good stroke. She reached the edge and held to it with one hand while she wiped water from her eyes with the other. Her body shimmered just below the surface of the pool. She couldn’t have been more naked.
    She saw me. She said, “The sleuth again. Have a swim with me, Zane.”
    I said, “I’m looking for Aggie.”
    “How disappointing.” She cocked her head and tried a little smile. “You’re scowling again, Zane.”
    “I’m not in the mood for games,” I said. “I just came from watching my refrigerator blow itself through my cabin.”
    “With all that good beer in it?”
    I said, “And with a man going after that beer. He wasn’t much of a man, but he was alive. And he wanted to go to hell in his own way. He didn’t ask to be blown there.”
    She stared up at me with her gray-blue eyes wide and steady.
    She began to climb out. “Toss me that towel, please, Zane.”
    I found the towel. It was as big as she. I handed it to her as she stepped off the last rung of the ladder. She wrapped herself in it and started for the French doors.
    “Come on in, Zane.”
    I went in. She padded across the living room, leaving wet footprints on the rug. She said, “Mix us a drink, will you? Swimming always makes me thirsty.”
    She went out a side door. I found the bar and mixed a pair of drinks. I followed the footprints through the side door and down a short hallway. I stopped in the entrance to Bonnie’s bedroom. She was standing before a mirror, pulling off her bathing cap. The towel was crumpled around her feet.
    Without turning, she said, “Have a good look, Zane. I like it.”
    I moved into the room, past a canopied bed, into an odor of powder and perfumes and Bonnie Minos. I said, “I like it too. Does Aggie?”
    She fluffed the sides of her hair. “He knows I’m an exhibitionist. I get some of my kicks that way. He doesn’t mind—as long as I get the rest of my kicks from him.”
    I said, “And do you?”
    She turned and took one of the glasses out of my hand. “There’s never