Part 23 (1/2)
He would have to find a boat to take him out there. He had little money on him and he might need every nickel before he was through. He wouldn't be able to afford to rent a boat, he would have to borrow one.
But before he tried to find a boat, he had to know exactly where Willow Point was anch.o.r.ed.
He looked over at the lighted amus.e.m.e.nt arcade, hesitated, then walked slowly across the wet street and glanced in.
There were only a few youths playing the pintable machines. A girl in a grubby white overall leaned against one of the machines while she cleaned her long painted fingernails with a chip of wood. She was white-faced and tired; a kid of about eighteen, old in sin and experience if he could judge from her hard expression. She had a leather satchel for giving change hung over her shoulder.
He walked into the arcade and, going to a pintable machine near where the girl was standing, he began to play, shooting the b.a.l.l.s up the channel, watching the coloured lights spring up as each ball tapped the pins.
After he had shot off a complete row of b.a.l.l.s, he paused to light a cigarette, and he was aware the girl was looking curiously at him.
He met her blue, dark-ringed eyes and he smiled.
”Some way to waste an hour, isn't it?” he said.
She lifted her shoulders indifferently.
”No one's asking you to do it.”
He left the machine and came over to her.
”Would you know anything about the boats anch.o.r.ed in the estuary?” he asked. ”I'm looking for Willow Point.”
Surprise and suspicion jumped into her eyes.
”I'm not stopping you,” she said, slid her hand through the opening in her overall and scratched herself under her arm.
”Would you know where it's anch.o.r.ed?”
”I might. Why?”
”I want to find it,” he said patiently.
”Are you sure you do, handsome?” she asked, leaning her hips against the pintable machine. ”Do you know who owns Willow Point.”
He shook his head.
”Tux,” she said, ”and he's a guy you want to keep away from.”
”I've got to find the boat,” Ken said.
She studied him.
”Look, handsome, hadn't you better go home? You're likely to get into trouble if you start messing around with Tux.”
”I'm in trouble already,” Ken said.
”Well, I don't have to be,” she said, and abruptly moved away to give change to a fat man who was tapping impatiently on the gla.s.s top of a pintable machine.
Ken lit a cigarette and went back to his machine. He began to play again, watching the girl out of the corner of his eye.
She moved around the arcade aimlessly, and after about five minutes she came slowly back to where he was standing.
She leaned against the machine he was playing and began to clean her nails again with the chip of wood.
”Won't you help me?” Ken said, keeping his voice low. ”Won't you tell me where Willow Point is?”
She gave a little shrug.
”Last time I saw it, it was anch.o.r.ed off North End.”
”That doesn't tell me anything. I don't know the river. How far out?”
”Half a mile. North End is the light you can see from the wharf.”
He looked up and smiled.
”Thanks.”
She shook her head at him.
”You're heading for trouble, handsome. Tux is a mean guy.”
He shot another ball up the channel before saying, ”I want a boat, but I can't pay for it. I've got to go to Willow Point.”
”What do you expect me to do?” she asked, not looking at him. ”Steal one for you?”
”I'd do that myself if I knew where to find one.”
”Does Tux know you're coming?”
Ken shook his head.
”How hot are you?” she asked. ”Is it the cops?”
”Something like that.”
”You'll find a boat under the jetty. The guy who owns it leaves around dawn, so you'd better get back before then.”
”Thanks,” Ken said.
”Watch your step, handsome. Tux doesn't like unexpected visitors. He's tough.”
”I'll watch out,” Ken said, and walked out into the drizzling rain.
He found a dinghy berthed under the jetty. A rod, can of bait, an oilskin and oars lay in the bottom of the boat. He swung himself down into the boat, cast off and began to row towards the distant light that she had told him was North End.