“Purgatorium,” he said, drawing the word out. “Ayuh, that’s not one you hear of much anymore. Don’t know that anyone ever heard much about it, of course. But these days?” He shook his head. “Nah. Your buddy was the only one who gave a damn. But I was never comfortable talkin’ with him, to be honest with you.” “Why not?” “Always huntin’. Like he was hungry for something and wouldn’t say what.” “He was writing a book,” I said. “Maybe that’s why.” “Maybe,” Beauchamp allowed, but I could tell he didn’t believe it. “It was a ship, though? The Purgatorium?”
