NYERERE ROAD CRICKET GROUNDS.
BENCH, SOUTHWEST CORNER.
4:00 P.M.
CHAPTER 10
ZANZIBAR
SAM SAW ITZLI RIVERA APPEAR AT THE NORTHERN SIDE OF THE cricket grounds, walking through the trees bordering the parking lot. Behind him, another man was walking east through the lot, but Sam could not make out his face. The purposefulness of his stride made him stand out. This would be Nochtli, Sam thought.
In the middle of the field, a pickup cricket match of teenagers was under way. Their laughter and shouts echoed across the park. Rivera strolled down the sidewalk on the west side of the grounds and stopped before the bench on which Sam sat.“You came alone,” Rivera said.
Seeing Rivera up close and in daylight immediately altered Sam’s measure of the man. While Sam had never doubted Rivera’s prowess, his chiseled face and sinewy build suggested a rawhide-like toughness. His black eyes regarded Sam impassively-an expression Sam suspected rarely changed, whether Rivera was eating a sandwich or murdering another human being.“Have a seat,” Sam said amiably despite the flutter of fear in his belly. He felt like he was hand-feeding a great white shark.
Rivera did so. “This is your meeting,” he said.
Sam didn’t reply. He watched the cricket match. A minute passed. Rivera broke the silence. “Your prank with the crate-amusing.”
“Something tells me you didn’t laugh, though.”
“No. Where is your wife, Mr. Fargo?”
“Running an errand. You can signal your friend to stop circling the grounds. He won’t find her.”
Rivera considered this for a few moments, then lifted his hand off the back of the bench and made a fist. Across the park, Nochtli stopped walking.
“Let’s talk about our problem,” Sam said.
“And what do you imagine that problem is?”
“You think we have something you want.”
“Tell me exactly: What do you think you have?” Abruptly, Sam stood up. “I enjoy the occasional verbal joust as much as the next man, but not today.”“All right, all right. Sit down, please.”
Sam did so. Rivera said, “The people I work for have been looking for a shipwreck. We believe it was lost in this area.”
“Which ship?”
“The Ophelia .”
“Tell me about it.”
“A steam-sail passenger ship. It was believed to be sunk in these waters in the 1870s.”
“That’s all you know about her?”
“More or less.”
“How long have you been looking for her?”
“Seven years.”
“Actively?”
“Yes, actively.”
“In and around Zanzibar?”
“Of course.”
“I’m assuming you have salvage experience or else they wouldn’t have hired you.”
“I have experience.”
“The people you work for . . . what’s their specific interest?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Something of monetary value, I assume?” Sam asked. “Something the Ophelia carried in her hold when she went down?”
“That would be a safe assumption.”
“And you think whatever we may have found belongs to the Ophelia .”
“It’s a possibility my employers would like to explore.”
Sam nodded thoughtfully. For the past few minutes Sam had been trying to get Rivera to commit himself, to make statements he and Remi could then use in doing their own research.
Sam said, “This must be one hell of a prize you’re after. You bribe the captain of a Tanzanian gunboat to first intimidate, then surveil us; then, when night falls, you sneak into the lagoon and board our boat with knives drawn.”This caught Rivera off guard. He took a deep breath and let it out with a frustrated sigh.
Sam said, “We watched the whole thing.”
“From where?”
“Does that really matter?”
“No, I suppose not. Please accept my apologies. My friends are ex-soldiers. Some habits are hard to break. The excitement of the job got the better of them. I’ve already chastised them.”“All three of them.”
“Yes.”
Of course, Sam didn’t buy Rivera’s mea culpa, but he said, “Fair enough. What was your plan? To steal whatever you think we found?”
“At that point we didn’t know what you’d found.”
Sam paused for a long ten seconds, then said, “I can’t decide if you think we’re idiots or if you’ve got a short- term-memory problem.”
“Pardon me?” “You’re sitting here because of the sign I left on the crate. You found that crate because of the notations we left next to a diagram of a bell you found on our boat. You think we found a ship’s bell. Why not just come out and say it?”“Consider it said, then.”
“I can tell you this: The bell we found doesn’t belong to the Ophelia .”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.”
“Will I?” Sam asked.
“I’d like to inspect the bell myself.”
“The same bell you and your men would have killed us for had we been aboard our boat? I’m going to have to decline.”
“I’ve been authorized to offer you a finder’s fee should the bell turn out to be the one we’re looking for.”
“No, thanks. We’ve got all the money we can use.”
“Take me to the bell, let me inspect it, and my employer will donate fifty thousand dollars to a charity of your choosing.”
“No.”
Rivera’s eyes turned cold, and he let out muffled growl. “Mr. Fargo, you’re making me angry.”
“They have pills for that.”
“I prefer a different approach.” Rivera lifted his shirttail to expose the butt of a pistol, a Heckler amp; Koch P30 -just like the one they took off Yaotl, Sam saw.
“We’re leaving now,” Rivera muttered. “Don’t make a scene or I’ll shoot you dead. We’ll be gone before the police are even notified.”
“The police,” Sam repeated. “As in the police in that station house across the road behind us?”
Rivera glanced over Sam’s shoulder. His mouth tightened, the muscles of his jaw pulsated.Sam said, “You should have done your homework. I realize it’s an old schoolhouse, but how hard would it have been to check? I’m sure this is embarrassing for you.”
“?Cabron!”
Sam’s grasp of Spanish slang was slim, but he suspected Rivera had just called his parentage into question. He said, “If you look a little closer, you’ll see a man and woman sitting on a bench near the station’s steps.”“I see
