seen a large merchantman cut through the waves so quickly. Judging from the white froth that burst nearly to the hawseholes, the ship's speed was close to twenty-five knots. Then he froze.
The ship was holding her course and Henry was directly in her track. He tied his shirt to the fishing pole and frantically waved it back and forth. In terror he watched the bow grow over him like a monster about to swallow a fly. He screamed, but no one appeared over the high bulwarks; the bridge was empty. He stood in helpless bewilderment as the great corroded ship tore into his sampan, shattering the tired little boat into a spray of wooden splinters.
Henry struggled underwater, the barnacled plates slicing his arms as they slid past. The propellers thrashed by and only his desperate struggles kept him from being sucked into their murderous rotating blades. Reaching the surface, he was fighting to catch his breath between the swirling, chopping waves from the ship's wake. At last he managed to keep his head above the surface, slowly treading water and rubbing the salty sting from his eyes, the blood flowing from his torn arms.
It was after ten in the morning when Pitt finally let himself into his apartment He was tired and his eyes smarted when he closed them. He limped slightly, his leg had been rebandaged, and other than a trace of stiffness, he felt nothing. All he wanted more than anything in the world was to fall into bed and forget the past twenty-four hours.
He had ignored orders to land the crew of the Martha Ann at either Pearl Harbor or on the heliport at Hickam Field. Instead he had set the helicopter down neatly on the lawn not more than two hundred feet from the emergency receiving entrance of Tripler Military Hospital, that great concrete edifice perched on a hUl overlooking the south coast of Oahu. He had stood by until Boland and the young wounded seaman were quickly wheeled on their way to the operating tables before he allowed a helpful Army doctor to stitch up the gash in his leg. Then he unobtrusively slipped out a side exit, hailed a cab, and peacefully dozed during the ride to Waikiki Beach.
He couldn't have been asleep in the familiar comfort of his own bed more than half an hour when someone began pounding on the door. At first it seemed like a distant echo in the back of his head and he tried to tune it out Then he struggled out of bed and weaved across the suite to the door and opened it.
There is a strange sort of beauty in a woman caught hi the throes of fear, as though a long hidden animalistic instinct makes her fervently alive. She wore a short muumuu emblazoned with red and yellow flowers that barely covered her hips. Her chestnut eyes gazed up at him, wide, dark, and afraid.
Pitt stood there for a moment before he stepped back and motioned her in. Adrian Hunter swept by him into the apartment, turned, and threw herself into Pitt's arms. She was shuddering and her breath came in choking sobs.
Pitt held her. «Adrian, for God's sake.»
«They killed him,» she sobbed.
Pitt pushed her back at arm's length and stared into her puffed and wet eyes. «What are you talking about?»
The words tumbled out of her. I was lying there in bed with… with a friend. They came through the terrace window, three of them, so quietly we didn't know they were even in the room until it was too late.
He tried to fight with them but they carried funny little guns that made no sound. They shot him. God, they shot him a dozen times. His blood was everywhere. It was horrible.»
She trembled; Pitt steered her to the couch and held her tightly.
«I screamed and ran into the closet and locked the door,» she continued. «They laughed; they stood there and laughed. They thought I was trapped in the closet but it's a two-way closet. It opens up into the guest bedroom. I grabbed a dress off a hook and escaped through the guest room window. I didn't want to go to the police. I was afraid. I tried to call Daddy, but his office said he couldn't be reached. By that time I was in a panic. I had no place else to go, no one to torn to, so I came here.»
She brushed at her eyes with her hand. She stood silhouetted against the light and Pitt could see she wore nothing beneath the muumuu. It's a nightmare,» she whispered. «A dirty, wretched nightmare. Why did they do such a thing? Why?»
«First things first,» he said gently. «Get in the bathroom and fix your face. Your eye makeup's halfway down your chin. Then you're going to tell me who it was they lolled.»
She pushed herself away. «I can't.»
«Get wise,» he snapped. «There's a dead body decorating your apartment. How long do you think you can keep it a secret?»
«I… I don't know.»
«It'll take the Honolulu police all of twenty minutes to put a make on him anyway. Why the martyr act? Is he a local celebrity with a wife and ten kids or what?»
«Worse. He's a friend of my father's.» Her eyes were pleading.
«The name,» he demanded.
«Captain Orl Cinana,» she murmured slowly. «He's Daddy's fleet officer.»
Pitt had enough sense to stay expressionless. It was worse than he thought He pointed toward the bathroom and simply said: «Go!»
Obediently she padded to the bathroom, turned, and gave him a funny helpless smile and then closed the door. As soon as he could hear the sound of water splashing in the sink, Pitt reached for the telephone. He had better luck than Adrian. Five seconds after he told the 101st Fleet's operator his name, Admiral Hunter was exploding on the line.
«What in hell's the idea of not reporting to me?» Hunter charged.
«I was spun out, Admiral,» Pitt answered. «I would have been no use to you until I cleaned up and grabbed a couple of hours' sleep. Which, thanks to your daughter, makes it impossible.»
When Hunter spoke again, it was in another voice. «My daughter? Adrian? She's with you?»
«She's got a dead body in her apartment She couldn't reach you so she came here.»
Hunter paused for all of two seconds. Then he came back stronger than ever. «Give me the details.»
«From what little I can get out of her, it seems our friends from the Vortex walked in off the terrace and gunned the guy down. Adrian escaped through a double closet»
«Is she hurt?»
«No.»
«I suppose the police know about this.»
«Fortunately, she didn't call them. As far as I know, the victim is still bloodying up her carpet.»
Thank God for that. Ill get our security people over there right away.» Pitt heard Hunter shout muffled commands over the other side of the line. He could easily visualize everyone within shouting distance jumping like frightened rabbits. He came back. «Did she identify the victim?» Pitt took a deep breath. «Captain Orl Cinana.» Hunter had class. Pitt couldn't take that away from him. The shocked silence ended in a fraction of a moment «How soon can you and Adrian get out here?» «At least half an hour. My car's still parked at the Honolulu dock. Well have to take a cab.»
«Better you stay where you are. It seems these killers are everywhere. I'll have a guard detail sent immediately.»
«Okay, well sit tight.»
«One more thing. How long have you known my daughter?»
«Pure coincidence, sir. We both happened to be at the same party a few hours after I brought you the StarbucKs capsule.» He made a serious effort to sound extremely casual. «She heard me mention your name and she introduced herself.» Pitt knew what Hunter was thinking so he second-guessed him. «I suppose during the course of the conversation I must have mentioned that I was staying at the Moana Towers. She must have remembered in her panic and came here.»
«I don't know how Adrian screws her life up so,» he said. «She's really a very decent girl.»
Pitt paused. How do you tell a father his daughter is a sex maniac who's either drunk or stoned eighteen hours out of twenty-four?
«Well start for Pearl as soon as the guards get here,» was all Pitt could think of to say. Then he hung up and poured himself a shot of Scotch. It tasted like a drain cleanser.
They came ten minutes later, not to escort them to Admiral Hunter's headquarters at Pearl Harbor, but to abduct Adrian and murder Pitt His attention was divided between Adrian curled up on the couch dozing peacefully
