with you guys. We know he’d been to the area several times to buy boats on the cheap. To sail them back to the U.S. and sell them at a profit.
Perfectly legal way to make a living, adds Ross.
Any chance that’s what happened? asks Duran.
No, I say. I didn’t see him in Cartagena. I’ve never met him in my life.
Duran gives a short, frustrated harrumph.
Ross takes up the thread. We’ve got another client of Mr. Borawski’s saying he inquired about buying a boat called Windy Monday, he says. We did a little digging. That was the name of your boat—
Before your husband renamed it after you, adds Duran.
We weren’t selling Juliet, I say. I’m not sure why the other man would have thought so.
I guess Borawski told the guy you’d be bringing it back soon.
Well, I say, that was the plan.
Do you think the plan was changing? asks Duran. Was that still the plan when your husband—when he—
I look at Duran levelly. I couldn’t see into Michael’s mind, I say.
It’s just an unusual arrangement, says Ross. That kind of gentlemen’s agreement. Usually boat loans are done through a bank. Like a home mortgage. Impersonal.
The thing is, Duran says, since Mr. Borawski was still part-owner, even a minority owner, he would have been able to take possession of the boat, if he wanted to be technical about it. If your husband didn’t keep his word. If he didn’t do this one thing he promised.
So we’re just trying to figure out if that’s what was happening, says Ross.
I look back and forth between the two of them.
Well, the only person who could explain that to you is dead, I say.
Duran winces. Ross looks respectfully at the floor.
Michael is dead, I say again. I claim the words, louder now, hard and dry. I’ve never said them before. Those three words together. They are an outrage, but this is why I must say them.
If he weren’t dead, I continue, he would tell you. He was a very honest person.
My mother grips my hand and squeezes it, as if to say, That’s right.
And I have plenty of money now, I go on. Michael’s life insurance. Mr. Borawski can have it all. He can have the boat too, and he can have anything else he wants. If it weren’t for him, we never would have bought a boat. We never would have left for Panama. We never would have sailed anywhere, and my children would have a father.
Then tears come. My second bout of tears in two days.
Please, my mother stands up, waving her hands. Please stop. She’s already barely managing. She’s got two little children—
They stand.
We are so very sorry, Detective Duran says.
Listen, says Ross, no one ever wants to see us coming.
March 9. BIENVENIDO A COLOMBIA. After sailing into Cartagena Bay last week, we all got our wishes granted. Because it is decreed in the CONSTITUTION OF THE YACHT ‘JULIET’ that UPON ARRIVING TO A FOREIGN PORT WITHOUT LOSING ANY CREW OVERBOARD, EVERYONE GETS WHATEVER THE HECK THEY WANT.
What I wanted: a cappuccino. Sybil wanted to run really fast w/out having to stop. Doodle wanted ice cream. Brave Juliet wanted to ditch the boat for a night & stay in a hotel. Turns out she’ll get more than that. We just moved into the Hotel Casa Relax while ‘Juliet’s’ transmission gets fixed by an excellent boat mechanic named Arturo. Arturo is one of these guys built like Oscar de la Hoya who also happens to run a side business taking tourists down the Rio Magdalena to Mompox. You could see him wrestling a gator & winning.
As a result of all this, spirits much higher. Cartagena is mind-blowing. What can I possibly say about this city? Impossible to describe. I got robbed of 50,000 pesos right next to the most aromatic frangipani bush. Everybody’s trying to cheat you or touch you & you can’t walk anywhere safely at night, but