“Where’d the Chief go?” asked Hodges.
Bervick wished that Hodges would shut up. “I think he went below. He went around outside.” Once the lie was made things became clearer to Bervick. They wouldn’t know what had happened for hours.
Hodges began to build his house of cards again.
Light glinted for a moment on Hodges’ gold ring. That reminded Bervick of something. He was puzzled. It reminded him of something unpleasant and important. Then he remembered: the Chiefs gold tooth which always gleamed when he laughed, when he laughed at Bervick. Duval was dead now. He realized this for the first time.
The salon was very still. Bervick could hear the careful breathing of Hodges as he built his house of cards. Bervick watched his fingers, steady fingers, as he worked.
No one would be sorry Duval was dead, thought Bervick. His wife would be, of course, and his family, but the men wouldn’t. They’d think it was a fine thing. They would talk about it, of course. They would try to guess what had happened, how Duval fell overboard; they would wonder when it had happened.
“You and the Chief were really arguing,” commented Hodges, putting a piece of the roof in place.
“We’re not serious.”
“You sounded serious to me. It’s none of my business but I think maybe you sounded off a little too loud. He’s one of your officers.”
“We didn’t mean nothing. He talked out of line, too.”