Chapter 19: The Real Passengers

Erin's POV

"She was laughing," the woman said again.

The room turned to look at me.

Chester stood at the foot of the table with his cap in his hand and watched my face.

He wanted me to shout.

He had taught me to shoot, and he had taught me that a loud voice gives away a hand.

"Thank you," I said. "Who is next?"

The man in the work jacket cleared his throat.

"She was laughing," he said, to the floor.

The two young men said it in turn.

One said laughing. The other said laughing.

All four used the same word, in the same flat voice, with their eyes somewhere past my shoulder.

I looked at their shoes.

They were new, all four, and still creased from the box.

"Ma'am," I said to the woman. "Where were you standing that morning?"

"On the deck."

"The ledger says the passengers were below, in the hold. It says the hatch was shut."

Her mouth moved.

"I was on the deck," she said.

"Then you could see the dock?"

"Yes."

"You could see my face from the deck, across five hundred fifty yards of water, in the dark before dawn?"

The woman said nothing.

The Benedetti envoy half rose from his chair.

"The witness has given her account."

"She has," I said. "I would like Mr. Sean Kearney to call mine."

Sean looked at me, and then at the door.

"Bring in the ninth," he said.

Two guards brought in the man in the navy jacket.

His wrists were cuffed in front, and his crewcut was damp.

Chester's face did not change, but his thumb tapped the brim of his cap.

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