An Incident At Bloodtide

other environmental group you can name that's been set up to protect this river. I have lent support to legislation that adversely affected my own company's operations and profits.'

'But you're not running things any longer, Mr. Carver, and it looks to me like the people who are in charge now aren't following the same enlightened policies you did. I'm here speaking to you because I thought you might still care about the image of the company, and might still have enough influence to get them to stop what they're doing.'

'Will you take these photographs to the press?'

'The thought had crossed my mind.'

'What makes you think anybody would be interested?'

'I'm not sure anybody will be. But a thing like this can sometimes create quite a stir of bad publicity for a company, and this company still bears your family name.'

He grunted, nodded curtly. 'I'll make a deal with you. I'll place a couple of calls to look into this matter, see what the story is. When I have the information, I'll get back to you. Is that good enough for you?'

'I'm afraid not, Mr. Carver. I think you're going to be unpleasantly surprised at how difficult it's going to be to get answers out of those people. They're going to be downright upset when you bring up the subject.'

'What are you talking about?'

'There's more to it.'

'What?'

'Tom Blaine, the riverkeeper. He-'

'I knew Tom well, Frederickson. He was a deacon in our church. That was a terrible thing, the accident that happened to him.'

'I don't think it was an accident, Mr. Carver. At the time he died, Tom was working hard to gather enough evidence against Carver Shipping to force the Coast Guard and other authorities to take action. Some of the ships must wash out and refill their tanks at night, so Tom was diving at night. He was underneath a tanker, taking samples as the pollutants were being flushed, before they could be diluted in the river. I believe somebody on board that tanker, probably the captain, knew or was tipped off that Tom was diving that night, and he started up the main engines while Tom was under the ship. That's called murder.'

'That's utterly absurd, Frederickson. Do you believe anybody, much less a licensed captain, would kill a man over a boatload of river water?'

'People have killed other people over a lot less. And we're talking about lots of boatloads of river water over an unspecified period of time, profits earned that may not be recorded on the company's books, maybe unpaid taxes. The federal government may not give a damn about them heisting water, but tax evasion is a whole different matter. Besides, the captain of this particular tanker-the one that's parked across the river right now-has a lot to hide. He's a drunk. My brother checked with Motor Vehicles, and it turns out he lost his driver's license in Connecticut, where he happens to live. He's been involved in oil spills, and he just might have been afraid that, if he got caught, he'd be made the fall guy for the whole illegal operation. Maybe he panicked; maybe somebody intimidated him. I don't know. But I do intend to find out exactly what happened.'

'Have you gone to the police or Coast Guard about this particular. . theory?'

'When it comes to things floating, sailing, and motoring on that river out there, it's very difficult to get the police in any one section to say, 'Oh, yeah, we'll look into that.' It seems that whatever happens on the river is someone else's responsibility. The Coast Guard is the one agency with undisputed jurisdiction on the entire length of the Hudson, but right now they're acting like they don't want to be bothered.'

'Obviously because they don't believe anybody's been murdered.'

'Yeah, well, the fact that the particular tanker that probably killed Tom is moored across the river right now lends the matter a certain sense of urgency, Mr. Carver. I have reason to believe that the captain who was in command of that ship on the night Tom was killed is on board now. I'd very much like to interview him before he leaves.'

'Do you actually believe he would admit to starting up his engines while there was a diver under his ship?'

'I don't know what he'll admit to before I talk to him, Mr. Carver. I just want to hear what he has to say about the whole affair. Once he leaves, I assume it will be another month or more before he comes back again. I'd like to talk to him now, before any of this other information becomes public, before you talk to any of his superiors.'

'You intend to just walk up to the man and ask him if he's guilty of murder?'

'I'm not sure what I'm going to say to him. I just want to talk to him about the matter face-to-face, and get his reaction.'

The silver-haired old man gazed at me steadily for a few moments, then squinted slightly and asked, 'Just what is your interest in this business, Frederickson? Is someone paying you and your brother to investigate Tom's death?'

'You said Tom was a member of your congregation, and I know from talking to my sister-in-law that you're a devout man. What's your interest in going to church?'

He seemed taken aback by my question. He considered it for a while, said, 'To pay homage to the God of the universe, Dr. Frederickson.'

'But God would still be God whether or not you went to church to worship. What you're saying is that attention must be paid.'

'Yes.'

'Tom Blaine was a man who spent all his adult life trying to clean up and keep clean what must surely be one of God's greatest creations, that river outside your window, for all of us. As a result of that work he died alone, horribly, in the cold and dark under that river. Maybe it was an accident; but then again, maybe it wasn't. Attention must be paid. If nobody else is going to pay attention, then I guess it's up to Garth and me to do it. If Tom was murdered, that's sacrilege in the place where I worship. It has to do with responsibility. If someone murdered Tom Blaine, I want to fix the blame. It's my way of paying attention, and my brother's.'

'I don't understand your answer.'

'Then I guess I didn't really understand your question. It doesn't make any difference. I'm here to ask you to use your influence to get me an appointment to talk with the captain of the tanker moored across the river.'

He considered my request as he studied the cactus in the fireplace, then looked back at me and shook his head. 'I don't know, Frederickson. I can certainly alert board members that Carver Shipping may be inadvertently violating environmental regulations, but for me to do what you want is another matter entirely. The captain of any ship is an important and powerful person. I find it highly unlikely that any captain would agree to meet with you, or that the company would pressure him to do so, just so that you can accuse him of murder.'

'I simply want to ask Captain Julian Jefferson a few questions. I have a suggestion as to how you might approach whoever is in a position to get me a talk with Jefferson.'

'What would that be?'

'If I can get a meeting with Jefferson, then I won't be interested in pursuing the matter of their little water- shipping sideline, and the pollution that goes with it. Other people are working on that, and I'm satisfied that the work Tom started will be finished. There probably will be minimal publicity, if any. I'm less discreet. I'm interested in investigating the circumstances of Tom's death, and if Carver Shipping won't cooperate with me, I am going to use certain contacts that I have in the media to try to assure that Carver Shipping gets very bad notices, complete with photographs, on what they've been up to. What I'm talking about has nothing to do with petty fines, Mr. Carver. It's not guaranteed, but it's possible that a lot of people are going to be upset when they learn that Carver Shipping has been sucking up free water, our water, to sell overseas, and dirtying up the Hudson River in the process. Nasty things could be said and written. Tell that to the board of directors.'

Bennett Carver stiffened, gripped the edges of his armchair, and glared at me. 'That's blackmail pure and simple, Frederickson.'

'You call it what you want. To my way of thinking, they should have demanded an investigation, or started one of their own, when it was learned that one of their tankers could have killed Tom- accidentally or otherwise.'

'I'll tell my contacts on the board of directors what you said, Frederickson,' the old man replied coldly. 'I assume you can be reached at your brother's home?'