Part 51 (1/2)

SEVENTY-EIGHT.

February 11. It had been months since Dortmunder had even thought about the failed reservoir job...

”It's too awful to go out tonight,” May said.

”You're right,” Dortmunder said, and she was. A winter storm, high winds packing an overload of wet snow, swirled through the canyons of New York City, hunting for victims.

”There's a special on TV tonight about Caribbean vacation places,” May said. ”We can stay in and watch.”

”I wish we could go there, May.”

”We've been before,” she pointed out, ”and we'll go again. This year, we'll just watch.”

So they watched. And twenty minutes in, half asleep, distracted, barely paying attention at all, they were both snapped awake by- Doug.

”Jesus Christ!”

”Ssh, John!”

”-new owner Douglas Berry, a transplanted New Yorker, has big plans for his resort hotel and dive shop, right on the beach, with easy access to the reef.”

Doug, grinning big, tanned, in a bathing suit, stood on the sand with a low white resort hotel behind him, his left arm around a beautiful young woman holding a tiny baby. ”It's gonna be great for little Tiffany, to grow up here. It's a terrific place to be a kid. I'm a kid myself. Love it!”

Then there was a shot of Doug wind-surfing, grinning like a baboon, huge ocean, huge blue sky, fantastic yellow-white sun. The off-screen announcer said, ”Berry himself, a qualified professional dive instructor, leads the snorkel and scuba-diving cla.s.ses. His emphasis is on active vacation life.”

And now a shot of Doug bursting out of the ocean into close-up, in full scuba gear, pulling off the face mask and mouthpiece, giving that s.h.i.+t-eating grin right at the camera. ”Come on down!”

”You're G.o.dd.a.m.n right I will!” Dortmunder raged, on his feet, about to jump headfirst into the TV.