The more he thought about it, the more he realized how treacherous such a discovery would be.

Ben's research had turned up more than the fountain of youth-issue, though. He was also concerned about people dying in a methane disaster, and Sam wondered exactly how imminent such a thing might be. Big meteors and asteroids would eventually strike the earth, but one hoped it wouldn't be any time soon. Underwater lava flows were not that unusual and neither were landslides and volcanoes. It was puzzling how the same scientist seemed to be obsessed by two such different research tracks. One idea was living and the other dying. Sam guessed that one could view both notions as the problem of staying alive. That and the Arc microbe seemed to connect the two. There had to be more, something they weren't yet seeing.

As he and Rachael walked down the waterfront road, Sam realized he'd lost track of his surroundings for a minute or more. He never allowed that on the job, instead striving to live keenly in the moment, aware of everything in his environment. It was how he had remained alive. This daydreaming was completely out of character. It struck him then that the notion of extreme longevity was a beguiling mistress. He saw a sheriff's boat sitting with its running lights on at the outer entrance to the moorages, where a deputy could see any passing vessel. Sam wondered whether it would be a real deputy or some Frick stooge, like the fellow who'd gotten burned at Ben's.

Geisha, a beautiful Swan sailboat, was moored close to shore on the sprawling docks of Friday Harbor. It belonged to Sam's friend.

'Don't look up,' Sam told Rachael, watching a patrol car moving slowly up the street toward them. That meant the police were watching the harbor from the boat and an onshore lookout. Sheriff's Boat 2, usually stationed at Orcas Island, was also available at the dock. No doubt Frick had brought in mercenaries and was manpower rich. He recalled the man at Ben's who claimed to be from Las Vegas.

He and Rachael climbed up the slight incline of Front Street toward the wharfinger's office, entering into a well-lit area. There they were spotted by a cruising patrol car.

'They're curious about us,' she whispered. 'Just stay cool. You're not Haley and I'm not a big, dark-haired, scraggly-bearded guy who's maybe Mexican or Indian.'

'Your makeup may be noticeable.'

'Yeah. In good light, if you're looking for it.' They kept walking to the large ramp at the head of the dock, where the cop car was now waiting. Sam walked right toward it, as if curious. 'You head into the ladies' room,' he said, 'wait two minutes, no more, then come out.'

Sam went and stood under the streetlight near the squad car. As the officer studied him, Sam pulled out his cell phone and pretended to talk. The deputy backed up until the car was ten feet away. Deliberately Sam kept his face in shadow, using the brow of the cowboy hat, and waved as he continued talking to the imaginary caller.

'Darling, I said you've got to do your homework before you can watch some reality show. Reality is homework. That's reality.' Sam droned on like a weary father with a teenager.

'How are you this evening, sir?' The officer had gotten tired of waiting and didn't hesitate to interrupt Sam's phone call.

'I gotta go, you mind your aunt.' Sam turned to the officer. 'Pretty good. We're picking up a VHF radio on one of the boats.'

'What boat would that be?'

'Geisha.'

'Your boat?'

'Belongs to a friend.'

Just then Rachael came out.

'They're interested in our travels,' Sam said.

One look at the beautiful blond Rachael in the incandescent light and recognition flashed in the officer's eyes.

'You seen a big Indian guy and Haley, the scientist from the bike shop?'

'Neither,' Rachael said. 'Is something wrong?'

'Say, why don't you go get the radio and meet your friend.' Sam made a show of shivering and hugging his coat around him. 'I'll beg the deputy here for a ride back to your place.'

The deputy looked surprised. 'I'm on patrol.'

'I thought you were a public servant,' Sam said playfully, and winked.

'Good night, now, folks. Call us if you see either of them.' The deputy rolled up his window and left them in a hurry.

CHAPTER 17

F rick addressed the nine men seated around the table. These were the smooth ones, all of them private detectives and none with any significant criminal record. This was a different group from the first and they looked it, both in the face and in the way they dressed.

In the midst of his talk about their goals, the assistant interrupted. Her name was Delia and Khan had pulled her in from Las Vegas, along with the others, just for this occasion.

She had a talent for keeping her mouth shut and knew most of these men at least enough to match a name with a face. She was fast, efficient, and smart, and Frick was happy to have her.

'Khan's on the line and said to interrupt,' Delia said.

Frick had let Khan go over to check on Rafe's progress with Haley Walther.

Angry at the delay, Frick walked out of the room and took the call in his office.

'Yeah?'

'We have a problem. This Sam character came and sprang the woman.'

'Damn it. How did it happen?' Khan told him what he'd found.

'Lattimer Gibbons is gone too,' Khan said. 'The garage is empty. If he had a car, they probably took it.'

'Have men tear the house apart for anything like lab papers or documents, anything else of interest. When you get men started there, do the same at Ben Anderson's. You make sure you decide what is pertinent. We've got all four roads out of Friday Harbor blocked so they can't get far.'

'This happened early enough that the roadblocks probably weren't in place.'

'I understand,' Frick said. 'Now get to it.' He slammed the phone down, wanting to kill Rafe. But in his gut he felt cold fear. Other than Haley, he considered who might know something. Then it occurred to him that they hadn't yet brought him Ben's secretary, Sarah James. The safe-deposit box had been a bust, just as he'd expected. Frick cursed himself for being stupid. He should have started with Sarah at the very beginning.

He went and got a picture of Haley Walther to put alongside the pictures of Robert Chase and Ben Anderson, then walked back into the room, where the men were waiting.

He forced himself to keep his cool. Utter confidence was important.

'We've just had an escape. Add Haley Walther to the list. Anyone asks, you're plainclothes detectives over from the mainland to help out. You've already been deputized. Be polite unless you actually see Ben Anderson, Haley Walther, or this Sam character. You should all have pictures with you. Once you have positive ID, do whatever you have to do in order to follow the suspects. First, though, if you see any of them, you get on the radio and tell everybody where you are and that you've seen them.

Give GPS coordinates just to make sure. Khan or I will make the arrest. Questions?'

None.

'From this moment on, your base of operations will be my home,' Frick said. 'You will not be returning here.'

One guy raised a hand; Frick anticipated the question.

'If fired upon, you may fire back. Do not fire first unless you are directly threatened.

We'd like them alive, but that is not absolutely necessary with Sam, aka Robert Chase.

Anderson we need and Walther as well. Delia here will give you each a list of addresses where we might find Ben Anderson or the other two.'

Sure enough, the guy with the question didn't raise his hand again.

Вы читаете The Black Silent
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату