When eventually he arrived at the waterfront, the rain that had been falling began to ease off.
It was dim, damp and smelly by the water. On the street side was a row of cafes, popcorn stalls, shops selling fishing tackle and nets, a dingy hotel and an amusement arcade.
Ken stood on the edge of the wharf and looked across the broad stretch of oily water to the distant estuary. It was too dark to see if any boats were anchored out there, but Darcy had said that was where Willor Point was, and Ken had no reason not to believe him.
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 anchored.
He looked over at the lighted amusement arcade, hesitated, than walked slowly across the wet street and glanced in.
There were only a few youths playing the pin-table machines. A girl in a grubby white overall leaned against one of the machines while she cleaned her long painted finger-nails 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 pin-table machine near where the girl was standing, he began to play, shooting the balls up the channel, watching the coloured lights spring up as each ball tapped the pins.
After he had shot off a complete row of balls, 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.