'That's a fair assumption.'
Pitt laid a hand on Bailey's shoulder. 'I'd appreciate it if you kept your discovery quiet for a while, Doc.'
'Mum's the word; my lips are sealed and all that crap. Don't waste another thought on it. My report and testimony will be here when you need it.'
Pitt smiled at the doctor and left the sick bay. He made his way aft to where the Sappho II sat dripping salt water on the stern ramp, climbed up the hatch ladder, and dropped down inside. An instrument technician was checking the TV camera.
'How does it look?' Pitt asked.
'Nothing wrong with this baby,' the technician replied.
'As soon as the structural crew checks out the hull, you can send her back down.'
'The sooner, the better,' Pitt said. He moved past the technician to the after end of the submersible. The gore from Munk's injuries had already been cleaned from the deck and the corner of the alternator housing.
Pitt's mind was whirling. Only one thought broke away and uncoiled. Not a thought really, rather an unreasoning certainty that something would point an accusing finger toward Munk's murderer. He figured it would take him an hour or more, but the fates were kind. He found what he knew he must find within the first ten minutes.
42
'Let me see if I understand you,' Sandecker said, glaring across his desk. 'One of the members of my salvage crew has been brutally murdered and you're asking me to sit idle and do nothing about it while the killer is allowed to roam loose?'
Warren Nicholson shifted uneasily in his chair and avoided Sandecker's blazing eyes. 'I realize that it's difficult to accept.'
'That's putting it mildly,' Sandecker snorted. 'Suppose he takes it in his head to kill again?'
'That's a calculated risk we have considered.'
'We have considered?' Sandecker echoed. 'It's simple for you to sit up there at CIA headquarters and say that. You're not down there, Nicholson, trapped in a submersible thousands of feet below the sea, wondering whether the man standing next to you is going to bash your brains out.'
'I am certain it won't happen again,' Nicholson said impassively.
'What makes you so sure?'
'Because professional Russian agents do not commit murder unless it is absolutely necessary.'
'Russian agents-' Sandecker stared at Nicholson in startled and total disbelief. 'What in God's name are you talking about?'
'Just that. Henry Munk was killed by an operative working for the Soviet Naval Intelligence Department.'
'You can't be positive. There is no proof . . . .'
'Not one hundred per cent, no. It might have been someone else with a grudge against Munk. But the facts point to a Soviet-paid operative.'
'But why Munk?' Sandecker asked. 'He was an instrument specialist. What possible threat could he have been to a spy?'
'I suspect that Munk saw something he shouldn't have and had to be silenced,' Nicholson said. 'And that's only the half of it, in a manner of speaking. You see, Admiral, there happen to be not one, but two Russian agents who have infiltrated your salvage operation.'
'I don't buy that.'
'We're in the business of espionage, Admiral. We find out these things.'
'Who are they?' Sandecker demanded.
Nicholson shrugged helplessly. 'I'm sorry, that's all I can give you. Our sources reveal that they go under the code names of Silver and Gold. But as to their true identities, we have no idea.'
Sandecker's eyes were grim. 'And if my people discover who they are?'
'I hope you will cooperate, at least for the time being, and order them to remain silent and take no action.'
'Those two could sabotage the entire salvage operation.'
'We're banking heavily on the assumption that their orders do not include destruction.'
'It's madness, pure madness,' Sandecker murmured. 'Do you have any idea of what you're asking of me?'
'The President put the same question to me some months ago, and my answer is still the same. No, I don't. I'm aware that your efforts go beyond mere salvage, but the President has not seen fit to make me privy to the real reason behind your show.'
Sandecker's teeth were clenched. 'And, if I should go along with you? What then?'
'I will keep you posted as to any new developments. And when the time comes, I will give you the green light to take the Soviet agents into custody.'
The admiral sat silently for a few moments and, when he finally spoke, Nicholson noted his deadly serious tone.
'Okay, Nicholson, I'll string along. But God help you if there is a tragic accident or another murder down there. The consequences will be more terrible than you can possibly imagine.'
43
Mel Donner came through Marie Sheldon's front door, his suit splattered from a spring rain.
'I guess this will teach me to carry an umbrella in the car,' he said, taking out a handkerchief and brushing away the dampness.
Marie closed the front door and stared up at him curiously. 'Any port in a storm. Is that it, handsome?'
'I beg your pardon?'
'From the look of you,' Marie said, her voice soft and slurry, 'you needed a roof until the rain let up, and the fates kindly led you to mine.'
Donner's eyes narrowed for a moment, but only a moment. Then he smiled. 'I'm sorry, my name is Mel Donner. I'm an old friend of Dana's. Is she at home?'
'I knew a strange man begging on my doorstep was too good to be true.' She smiled. 'I'm Marie Sheldon. Sit down and make yourself comfortable while I call Dana and get you a cup of coffee.'
'Thank you. The coffee sounds like a winner.'
Donner appraised Marie's backside as she swiveled toward the kitchen. She wore a short white tennis skirt, a sleeveless knit top, and her feet were bare. The taut swing of her hips flipped the skirt to and fro in a pert, seductive sort of way.
She returned with a cup of coffee. 'Dana is lazy on weekends. She seldom rolls out of the sack before ten. I'll go upstairs and speed things up.'
While he waited, Donner studied the books on the shelves beside the fireplace. It was a game he often practiced. Book titles seldom failed to unlock the door to their owner's personality and tastes.
The selections ran the usual gamut for the single female there were several books of poetry, The Prophet, The New York Times Cookbook, and the usual sprinkling of gothics and best sellers. But it was the arrangement that interested Donner. Interwoven among Physics of Intercontinental Laval Flows and Geology of Underwater Canyons, he found Explanation of Sexual Fantasies of the Female, and The Story O. He was just reaching for the latter when he heard the sound of feet coming down the stairs. He turned as Dana entered the room.
She came forward and embraced him. 'Mel, how wonderful to see you.'
'You look great,' he said. The months of strain and anguish had been erased. She seemed more at ease and she smiled without tenseness.
'How's the swinging bachelor?' she asked. 'Which line are you using on poor innocent girls this week, the brain surgeon or the astronaut?'
He patted his paunch. 'I've retired the astronaut story until I can shed a few pounds. Actually, because of the publicity you people are getting on the Titanic, I can do no wrong by telling the little lovelies crowded around the Washington singles' bars that I'm a deep-sea diver.'
