“Can I help you?” Brody said when the couple had reached the top of the dune.
“Is this the beach?” said the woman.
“What beach are you looking for? The public beach is—”
“This is it, awright,” said the man, pulling a map out of his pocket. He spoke with the unmistakable accent of the Queensborough New Yorker. “We turned off Twenty-seven and followed this road here. This is it, awright.”
“So where’s the shark?” said one of the children, a fat boy of about thirteen. “I thought you said we were gonna see a shark.”
“Shut up,” said his father. He said to Brody, “Where’s this hotshot shark?”
“What shark?”
“The shark that’s killed all them people. I seen it on TV — on three different channels. There’s a shark that kills people. Right here.”
“There was a shark here,” said Brody. “But it isn’t here now. And with any luck, it won’t come back.”
The man stared at Brody for a second and then snarled, “You mean we drove all the way out here to see this shark and he’s gone? That’s not what the TV said.”
“I can’t help that,” said Brody. “I don’t know who told you you were going to see that shark. They don’t just come up on the beach and shake hands, you know.”
“Don’t smart-mouth me, buddy.”
Brody stood up. “Listen, mister,” he said, pulling his wallet from the belt of his bathing suit and opening it so the man could see his badge. “I’m the chief of police in this town. I don’t know who you are, or who you think you are, but you don’t march onto a private beach in Amity and start behaving like a bum. Now state your business or beat it.”
The man stopped posturing. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just after all that goddam traffic and the kids screaming in my ear, I thought at least we’d get a look at the shark. That’s what we come all the way out here for.”
“You drove two and a half hours to see a shark? Why?”
“Something to do. Last weekend we went to Jungle Habitat. We thought maybe this weekend we’d go to the Jersey Shore. But then we heard about the shark out here. The kids never seen a shark before.”
“Well, I hope they don’t see one today, either.”
“Shit,” said the man.
“You said we’d see a shark!” whined one of the boys.
“Shut your mouth, Benny!” The man turned back to Brody. “Is it okay if we have lunch here?”
Brody knew he could order the people down to the public beach, but without a resident’s parking sticker they would have to park their camper more than a mile from the beach, so he said, “I guess so. If somebody complains, you’ll have to move, but I doubt anyone will complain today. Go ahead. But don’t leave anything — not a gum wrapper or a matchstick — on the beach, or I’ll slap a ticket on you for littering.”
“Okay.” The man said to his wife, “You got the cooler?”
“I left it in the camper,” she said. “I didn’t know we’d be staying.”
“Shit.” The man trudged down the dune, panting. The woman and her two children walked twenty or thirty yards away and sat on the sand.
Brody looked at his watch: 12.15. He reached into the beach bag and took out the walkie-talkie. He pushed a button and said, “You there, Leonard?” Then he released the button.
In a moment the reply came back, rasping through the speaker. “I read you, Chief. Over.” Hendricks had volunteered to spend the weekend on the public beach, as the third point in the triangle of watch. ("You’re getting to be a regular beach bum,” Brody had said when Hendricks volunteered. Hendricks had laughed and said, “Sure, Chief. If you’re going to live in a place like this, you might as well become a beautiful people.")
“What’s up?” said Brody. “Anything going on?”
“Nothing we can’t handle, but there is a little problem. People keep coming up to me and trying to give me tickets. Over.”
“Tickets for what?”
“To get onto the beach. They say they bought special tickets in town that allow them to come onto the Amity beach. You should see the damn things. I got one right here. It says ‘Shark Beach. Admit One. Two-fifty.’ All I can figure is some sharpie is making a pretty fine killing selling people tickets they don’t need. Over.”
“What’s their reaction when you turn down their tickets?”
“First, they’re mad as hell when I tell them they’ve been taken, that there’s no charge for coming to the beach. Then they get even madder when I tell them that, ticket or no ticket, they can’t leave their cars in the parking lot without a parking permit. Over.”
“Did any of them tell you who’s selling the tickets?”
“Just some guy, they say. They met him on Main Street, and he told them they couldn’t get on the beach without a ticket. Over.”
“I want to find out who the hell is selling those tickets, Leonard, and I want him stopped. Go to the phone booth in the parking lot and call headquarters and tell whoever answers that I want a man to go down to Main Street and arrest that bastard. If he comes from out of town, run him out of town. If he lives here, lock him up.”
“On what charge? Over.”
“I don’t care. Think of something. Fraud. Just get him off the streets.”
“Okay, Chief.”
“Any other problems?”
“No. There are some more of those TV guys here with one of those mobile units, but they’re not doing anything except interviewing people. Over.”
“About what?”
“Just the standard stuff. You know: Are you Scared to go swimming? What do you think about the shark? All that crap. Over.”
“How long have they been there?”
“Most of the morning. I don’t know how long they’ll hang around, especially since no one’s going in the water. Over.”
“As long as they’re not causing any trouble.”
“Nope. Over.”
“Okay. Hey, Leonard, you don’t have to say ‘over’ all the time. I can tell when you’re finished speaking.”
“Just procedure, Chief. Keeps things clear. Over and out.”
Brody waited a moment, then pushed the button again and said, “Hooper, this is Brody. Anything out there?” There was no answer. “This is Brody calling Hooper.
Can you hear me?” He was about to call a third time, when he heard Hooper’s voice.
“Sorry. I was out on the stern. I thought I saw some thing.”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing. I’m sure it was nothing. My eyes were playing tricks on me.”
“What did you think you saw?”
“I can’t really describe it. A shadow, maybe. Nothing more. The sunlight can fool you.”
“You haven’t seen anything else?”
“Not a thing. All morning.”
“Let’s keep it that way. I’ll check with you later.”
“Fine. I’ll be in front of the public beach in a minute or two.”
Brody put the walkie-talkie back in the bag and took out his sandwich. The bread was cold and stiff from resting against the ice-filled plastic bag that contained the cans of beer.
By 2.30, the beach was almost empty. People had gone off to play tennis, to sail, to have their hair done. The only ones left on the beach were half a dozen teenagers and the family from Queens.
Brody’s legs had begun to sunburn — faint red blotches were surfacing on his thighs and the tops of his feet — so he covered them with his towel. He took the walkie-talkie out of the bag and called Hendricks. “Anything happening, Leonard?”