'The Grimsi? Ah, of course-the name of your old boat. Yes, I stumbled into the other guy quite by accident. After you and the admiral and Miss Royal took off toward the southeast, I had a hunch your anchor would drop in the area where you and Dr. Hunnewell crashed. I drove across the peninsula and arrived too late-that damned old scow was faster than I thought-you were already sketching up a storm while Admiral Sandecker was playing the role of Izaak Walton. The very picture of your contentment had me fooled completely.'
'But not your competitor. His binoculars were stronger.'
Lillie shook his head. 'A telescope. One hundred and seventy-five power, mounted on a tripod, no less.'
'Then the glint I saw from the boat was from the reflecting mirror.'
'If the sun caught it right, a visible flash would be the obvious giveaway.'
Pitt was silent for a moment as he lit a cigarette.
The click of the lighter seemed strangely loud in the open of the barren landscape. He exhaled and looked at Lillie.
'You say you knifed him?'
'Yes, it was unfortunate, but he left me no choice.' Lillie leaned over the hood of the Volvo and rubbed a palm over his forehead, seemingly at ease with his inner self. 'He-I don't know his name, as there was no identification- was bent over the telescope talking into a portable transmitter when I crept around an outcropping of rock and literally bumped into him. His attention and mine had been focused on your boat. He didn't expect me, and I didn't expect him. To his final re,ret, he acted first,and without forethought. Pulled a switchblade knife from a sleeve- rather old-fashioned, really-and leaped.' Lillie made a helpless shrug. 'The poor guy tried to stab instead of slash-the sure sign of an amateur. I should have taken him alive for questioning, but I got carried away during the heat of the moment and turned his knife against him.'
'Too bad you didn't get to him five minutes sooner,' Pitt said.
'Why is that?'
'He'd already radioed our position so his buddies could close in for the kill.'
Lillie stared at Pitt questioningly.
'For what purpose? Merely to steal a few sketches or a bucket of trash?'
'Something much more important. A jet aircraft.'
'I know. Your mysterious black jet. The thought had occurred that you might go looking for it when I guessed your destination, but your report failed to pinpoint the exact-' Pitt interrupted, his voice deceptively friendly. 'I know for certain that Admiral Sandecker has had no contact with you or your agency since he left Washington. He and I are the only ones who know what's in that report…' Pitt paused, suddenly remembering. 'Except-'
'Except the secretary at the consulate who typed it,' Lillie finished, smiling. 'My compliments, your commentary was well written.' Lillie didn't bother to explain how the consulate secretary passed him a copy and Pitt didn't bother to ask him. 'Tell me, Major, how do you go about dredging for a sunken aircraft with nothing but a sketch pad and a fishing pole?'
'Your victim knew the answer. He detected my air bubbles through his telescope.'
Lillie's eyes narrowed. 'You had diving equipment?' he asked flatly. 'How? I watched you leave the dock and saw nothing. I studied you and the admiral from the shore and neither of you left the deck for more than three minutes. After that I lost visibility when the fog rolled in.'
'The N.I.A. doesn't have a monopoly on sneaky, underhanded plots,' Pitt said, shooting Lillie down in flames. 'Let's sit in the car and make ourselves comfortable and I'll tetl you about another ordinary garden variety day in the life of Dirk Pitt.'
So Pitt slouched in the rear seat with his feet propped on the backrest of the front and told Lillie what had happened from the time The Grimsi left the Fyrie dock until it had returned. He told what he knew for certain and what he didn't, everything, that is, except for one little indefinable thought that kept itching in his mind-a thought that concerned Kirsti Fyrie.
Chapter 12
'So you've selected Oskar Rondheim as your villain,' Lillie murmured. 'You haven't convinced me with any solid proof.'
'I agree, it's all circumstantial,' Pitt said. 'Rondheim has the most to gain. Therefore, Rondheim has the motive. He murdered to get his hands on the undersea probe and he's murdered to cover his tracks.'
'You'll have to do better than that.'
Pitt looked at Lillie. 'Okay, come up with a better one.'
'As an agent in good standing with the N.I.A I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm a bit confused.'
'You're confused.' Pitt shook his head in mock sadness. 'I can't say I find it too comforting knowing our nation's security rests in your hands.'
Lillie smiled faintly. 'It is you who has provided the confusion, Major. It is you who has broken the chain.'
'What chain?' Pitt said. 'Or am I supposed to guess?'
Lillie hesitated a moment before answering. Finally he looked directly at Pitt.
'During the last eighteen months a chain of strange circumstances has been forged by country by country, from the southernmost tip of Chile to the northern border of Guatemala. Secretly, through a complex series of clandestine maneuvers, the great mining companies of South America have slowly merged into one giant syndicate. Outwardly it's business as usual, but behind the locked and barred doors of their respective administrations, the policies governing their operations come directly from a single unknown voice.'
Pitt shook his head. 'Not possible. I can name at least five Countries that have nationalized their mining cartels. There's no way they could tie in with a private company beyond their borders.'
'None the less, it's a documented fact. Where the mines have been nationalized, the management is controlled by an outside organization. The Parnagus-janios high-grade iron ore pits of Brazil, the Domingo bauxite mines of the Dominican Republic, the government silver mines of Honduras, they all take their directives from the- same person or persons.'
'How did you gather your information?'
'We have many sources,' Lillie said. 'Some within the mining companies themselves. Unfortunately, our contacts have not infiltrated top-level management.'
Pitt mashed his cigarette into an ashtray recessed within the car door. 'Nothing mysterious about someone attempting to gain a monopoly.
If they have the guts to pull it off, more power to them.'
'A monopoly is bad enough,' Lillie said. 'The names of the men we've been able to uncover, who are high on the totem pole, include twelve of the, wealthiest men in the Western World-all possessing vast financial Powers in mineral exploitation. And each with tentacles so long that they reach out and control over two hundred industrial corporations.' Lillie paused, staring at Pitt. 'Once they gain a monopoly they can force the prices of copper, aluminum, zinc and several other commercial ores halfway to the moon. The resulting inflation would devastate the economies of at least thirty nations. The United States, of course, being one of the first to go to its knees.'
'It doesn't necessarily follow,' Pitt said. 'If that happens, they and their financial empires would be sucked down too.'
Lillie smiled and nodded. 'That's the catch. These men, F. James Kelly of the U.S Sir Eric Marks of Great Britain, Roger Dupuy of France, Hans Von Hummel of Germany, Than Mahani of Iran, and others-each worth close to ten figures-are all loyal to their respective countries. Any one of them might chisel and cheat on taxes, but none of them would willingly send his government over the brink of economic disaster.
'Then where's the profit motive?'
'We don't know.'
'And Rondheim's connection?'
'None, except his relationship with Kirsti Fyrie and her offshore mining interests.'
There was a long silence; then Pitt said slowly, 'The burning question, then, is where do you fit in?
What does the takeover of Latin American mining syndicates have to do with Iceland? The N.I.A. didn't send
