Aaron Elkins - Little Tiny Teeth

A nod from John.

“Vargas was behind us, also looking at them. And Scofield was standing right here, doing the same. All of us with our eyes focused on where the fish were jumping around-”

“Dolphins,” Phil stated, “are not fish.”

“Even I know that,” commented John.

“Pardon me,” Gideon said, “where the cetaceans were jumping around. Okay, everybody’s eyes were on them, and the lance comes crashing into the window from behind us.”

“Where the shore happens to be,” John said, “only sixty or seventy feet away at the time.”

“True, but the starboard deck was right here, three feet away. My question is, why couldn’t someone have come up along the deck from the front of the ship – maybe coming out the side door of the dining room – flung the lance through the side window, and then run back into the dining room and out of sight, then left later? If the door was open, he’d have been back through it in two seconds.”

“Because Scofield would have seen him,” Phil said. “All he had to do was turn his head.”

“Is that so? Go ahead, turn your head.”

Phil turned to his right. “Oh. I see what you mean. The corner of the dining room blocks the view forward.”

“Yeah,” John said, “I see how that could be, but how could he miss Scofield with that thing from two feet away? He’d have to be blind.”

“Ah,” said Gideon. “Maybe he didn’t miss, maybe he accomplished what he was trying to do.”

“Well, if what he was trying to do was scare the shit out of him, he accomplished it, all right.”

“But that’s exactly what I’m getting at. I think maybe somebody’s playing games with Scofield.”

Phil looked from Gideon to John and scratched at his scraggly chin. “I have to admit, that sounds a lot more plausible than some ticked-off Chayacuro warrior who’s been standing there with his spear for thirty years, waiting for him to come back.”

“And what about the spider?” Gideon said. “That fits too. Someone having a little fun at the big man’s expense, cutting him down to size.”

“It was Tim that went to get the bag with the spider in it,” Phil observed thoughtfully. “So does that make him the someone, in your opinion?”

“No, the bag was in one of the luggage rooms. No lock. Anyone could have put it there.”

“But how would he know Arden would open it up?”

“He’d know he’d open it sometime.”

“Yeah,” John said, “but how long could a spider stay alive in there?”

“Long enough to last the trip, that’s for sure.”

“Well, okay, then, it’s possible. But it wasn’t poisonous, so what’s the point?”

“That is the point. Pay attention, John. If what I’m saying is right, they’re not trying to kill him; they just want to frighten him, or maybe make him look ridiculous.”

“But why?” Phil asked. “And who? Whom. Who.”

Gideon shrugged. “No idea.”

“In that case, let’s go look at the stars some more,” Phil said. “Maybe it’ll come to us. And be careful, you guys, we’re more buzzed than you think, and there’s no railing up there.”

John was shaking his head. “I don’t know about all this, Doc,” he said as they started back. “It sounds kind of crazy to me. That’s taking a lot of risks just to make Scofield look silly.”

“They don’t like the guy, you pointed that out yourself.”

John acknowledged this with a tip of his chin. “Yeah, well, that’s so. Okay, it’s possible, but that’s all. At this point it’s just a theory.”

“Correct, only it’s not even a theory. It’s not even a hypothesis. It’s what I said, a supposition, an inferential conclusion not based on anything close to adequate substantiation, empirical or otherwise. But it’s certainly worth considering.”

John sighed, as he often did when Gideon got professorial with him. “Well, whatever the hell it is, are you gonna mention it to Scofield?”

“That’s a good question and, you know, I’m not sure. Probably not, I’d say. First off, it is just a supposition. Besides, it’s pretty clear he and his people – Tim, Maggie, Mel… even Duayne – have some not-so-great vibes going on between them, so why should I want to stir things up any more? He’s obviously paranoid when it comes to the Indians. Do I want to make him paranoid about the people he works with? I think maybe I’ll just let it go – unless something else happens, and then I think I owe it to him to tell him.”

Phil nodded. “I agree with that. And anyway, assuming you’re right about what’s going on, I’m betting that’s it; it’s over and done with. Whoever it is made his point. If he’s trying to scare Scofield, or bring him down a few notches, how could he do any better than he did today?”

“Well, I think you should tell him, Doc,” John said as they mounted the steps. “I think you owe it to him.”

“Maybe I will, John. I haven’t really decided. Let’s see what he’s like when he comes out of his room tomorrow.”

“ If he comes out of his room,” Phil said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t, or at least doesn’t show himself out on deck in the open anymore. Or if he does, I’m betting at least he finds some excuse for not getting out and going on any of the treks, even on the other side of the river.”

“Nope,” said John. “This is a guy who cares too much about how he comes off to other people to do that. No, I think Maggie and the rest of them are wrong. I think he’ll come up with some excuse – nothing to do with what happened, of course – for calling the whole thing off and turning the ship around. No, on second thought, he’ll probably get Vargas to come up with an excuse, engine trouble or something.”

Gideon disagreed with both of them. “Uh-uh. If he did that, everybody would see right through it, and he couldn’t live with that. My guess is, upset as he is, he’ll just laugh it off and go right on with the cruise. Too much pride to do anything else.”

As they approached their chairs, they were greeted first by trailing smoke that smelled a lot worse than marijuana, and then by a welcome of sorts.

“ Hola, the three musketeers return,” called Cisco, laughing away.

“The three mouse keteers,” chortled Tim. They were both pretty much pie-eyed.

“The three mosquitoes,” amended Cisco, engendering even greater hilarity.

“These guys are a laugh riot,” John growled as he sank into his chair and put his feet up on the railing again. John had a hard time disguising his aversion to drugs and drug-takers, not that he generally made any attempt to do so; no surprise, considering that hard-drug trafficking was one of his areas of expertise and he was familiar with both ends of the long, wretched chain and all the sorry creatures in between. “For Christ’s sake, that stuff really stinks,” he called. “It smells like a rainy day at the lion house. Go back to your Mary Jane, will you? For our sake, anyway.”

“No, come on, man,” Tim said amicably, “don’t be like that. This is really good stuff here.”

“High-quality chacruna,” said Cisco. “Gift of the gods.”

“ Psychotria viridis,” Tim explained, a professor in the making. “Mixed with tobacco and wrapped in a banana leaf. It’s not illegal, not even in the States, if that’s what’s bothering you, not that you can get any up there. Hey, pull your chairs over, why don’t you try some? It’ll mellow you out. Cisco’s got a ton of it.”

“Sure, come on over,” Cisco said, not quite as welcomingly.

“No thanks, fellas,” Gideon said for the three of them. He wasn’t quite as straight-arrow as John, but not very far behind. From the expression on Phil’s face, however, he could see that Phil was more than ready to try it just to see what it was like – there were few new experiences that Phil wasn’t open to – but decided to go along with his friends, at least for the moment.