‘Uh, I dunno this fer certain, okay? This is scuttlebutt. But from what I hear, this saucer-type thing could sleep maybe twelve, fifteen people. Had regular apartments in it, like they was gonna live down there. It was designed by that Greek guy, y’know the one does all the underwater shit.’
‘Nicholas Kaginakas?’ Eliza said.
‘That’s the one. He died too. He was here for a while and then he went back to Greece and one day he dropped dead.’
‘What did Bridges make before they started building the dish?’ Eliza asked.
‘He was hot and heavy into the salvage business. Then Red bought about — oh, fifteen, sixteen of those old Liberty ships from World War II. Big, ugly bastards, but they could hold a ton. He worked on them for a while, refitting, putting in tanks.’
‘What for?’
‘Red comes up with the idea that you could gut them, put in storage tanks and use them for oil tankers. He did lotsa business, none of ‘em ever came back to complain. They was very unique, y’know, had ballast tanks in them like a submarine.’
‘Ballast tanks?’ said the Magician.
‘Yeah. I guess so’s they could equalize the way they float, empty and full.’
Harry S. picked up his empty mug between his paws and rapped on the bar, and Kraft American went down and drew him another beer.
‘What d’ya think?’ the Magician whispered to Eliza.
‘Didn’t Danilov say something about killing a man in Greece?’
The Magician nodded.
Kraft American came back with a pina colada and one draft beer.
‘This dish, you know where they took it?’ the Magician asked.
‘Nope.’
‘And Red Bridges died before it was finished?’
‘Yeah. Old Red was gettin’ fed up with the operation. It got bigger than he had planned. See, Red was just a good old pirate, a salvage jockey. He loved lookin’ for old wrecks. If he’d made a fortune dredging up some old treasure ship or a war vessel full of relics, that woulda made him happier than a pig in shit
— pardon the French, lady. But converting old tubs into tankers and building some underwater flyin’ saucer, that wasn’t his thing. That definitely was not his thing. He didn’t wanna be no big-timer.’
‘Did he ever find anything when he was salvaging?’ the Magician asked.
‘Sure. Just before he quit we found an old Jap troopship lyin’ in twelve fathoms off the Volcano Islands south of here. She was running from Iwo Jima in ‘45 and our dive bombers caught up with her. Then he got involved in this big-time shit and he never went back. She’s still down there, rusting away.’
‘Nobody else went back either?’
‘Far as I know, Red never reported the find. He was always planning to go back there when he retired.’
He stopped and shook his head forlornly, then went on, ‘He really agonized over selling the yard, though, after thirty-five years. I heard him tellin’ Harry S. all about it one night. He got a little soused, was unloadin’ on old Harry. Some people he worked with after the war wanted to buy him out. Poor son of a bitch dropped dead before he could make up his mind.’
‘Before?’ said Eliza.
‘Yeah. Two nights before he passed away, he’s in here with a bag on. He’s bitchin’ about gettin’ in a squeeze with the big boys. But what big boys he didn’t say.’
‘And nobody ever said what happened to the dish?’
Nope. Hauled it outa here — shit, must be three, four months ago now. Actually I’m glad it’s gone. Everything was very hush-hush, the guys’d come in, wouldn’t talk shop. That’s about the time they started hiring a lotta Jap guys. Hadda pass security tests, the whole shithouse mouse.’
Harry S. belched again. ‘Ye’re excused,’ Kraft American said.
‘Who owns the shipyard now?’ Eliza asked.
‘Uh, some big outfit over here. Can’t remember offhand, seems t’ me it’s down south somewhere.’
‘AMRAN?’ Eliza ventured.
‘No, sumpin like—’
‘San-San?’ said the Magician.
‘Yeah, you got it, man. That’s it, the San-San Company.’ Harry S. grumbled into his beer.
‘Whatsa matter, Harry, you got the blues?’ Kraft American said.
‘He gets the blues, “know, sits there with his face in the glass like some drunk, moaning.’
‘Maybe he’s horny,’ the Magician suggested.
‘I never thoughta that,’ Kraft American said and moved on down the bar to talk it over with Harry S., who continued to stare bleakly into his glass.
