Kerrigan turned and walked down along the length of the pier, wiping sweat from his face. In the tool shed he found a roll of adhesive tape, and he cut off a strip and slipped it around his torn finger. He came out of the shed carrying the heavy chain and the crowbar. He took a few steps and stopped short and the crowbar fell out of his hand, the chain slipped away from his fingers. He stood motionless, staring at Loretta Channing.
She was sitting at the wheel of the MG. The car was parked on the pier. A few men wearing Panama hats and tropical-weave suits were leaning against the car and it was evident she’d got special permission to come onto the pier.
As Kerrigan stood there, unable to breathe, Loretta waved to him. He could feel the heavy awkwardness of the moment as the men in Panama hats turned to look at him, their faces showing vaguely puzzled smiles.
He told himself to pick up the chain and crowbar and get out of here. But as he reached down, he stiffened again. He was staring at an object in Loretta’s hands. It was a small camera. She had it focused on him.
He straightened, breathing air that seemed to burn. His arms were away from his sides, his hands were clenched, and he didn’t realize he was showing his teeth.
The camera made a clicking sound. It was a very small noise, but in his brain it was amplified. It cracked like a lash hitting him in the face.
He moved toward the MG. He walked very slowly. His head jutted like an aimed weapon. A fruit clerk wearing an apron came into his path and he pushed the man aside, not hearing the whine of protest. The men in Panama hats were moving uneasily as they detected the menace in his approach. Instinctively they got out of his way. But Loretta didn’t move. Loretta sat there at the wheel, smiling at him, waiting for him, the camera held loosely in her hand.
He came up to the door of the MG and pointed to the camera and said, “Give it to me.”
Loretta widened her eyes in mock surprise. “You want it for a gift?”
“All I want is the film.”