Tarratona gave a massive, Latin shrug. "He may have gone fishing, Senor Blake - for a cruise perhaps - he may have visited Havana, possibly. I have no idea, I assure you."
Blake nodded thoughtfully.
On the face of it if he got the impression that the Maliba police would not be likely to hinder his investigations. But in view of Tarratona's flat denial of any 'political trouble' it seemed pointless to pursue questions on which the Maliba government had already imposed censorship.
He decided to leave it at that.
"Very well, captain," Blake rose. "Thank you for seeing me and sparing your time…"
"A pleasure," the police chief rose, smiling to shake hands. "If you need anything - any kind of help…"
I'll call you!" Blake promised.
It was only as Blake was leaving that Tarratona asked casually: "You mentioned an insurance investigation - a marine insurance claim was it…?"
Blake hesitated as Tarratona opened the office door. On a sudden impulse he said: "I'm trying to locate a witness in an arson case. We need him for a lawsuit which is coimg up in Brazil, and we heard he was in Maliba."
"What name?" Tarratona asked interestedly.
"Harben," Blake said evenly. "Jules Harben."
"Harben?" The police chief frowned with sudden recognition.
"You know the name?" Blake's surprise was genuine.
"Jules Harben?" repeated Tarratona. "A marine engineer who sailed here from Brazil?"
Blake tried to suppress a sudden surge of excitement. "That's right," he nodded calmly. "We don't know what ship he signed on with, but we know he was trying to go north…"
"The Gorgon! Tarratona exclaimed. "The Gorgon sailed here from Brazil four weeks ago! There was a man called Jules Harben on board! But -!" He broke off.
Blake frowned. "What is it, captain? What's wrong? Do you know this man-?"
Tarratona looked shocked. He faltered: "I knew of him. Mr. Blake. He was one of the Gorgon's crew - but -"
"Was?" Blake frowned suddenly.
"The Gorgon is a research ship. Mr. Blake - there was an accident - only two days ago-" He broke off looking anxious and worried.
"Mr. Blake, this is going to be bad news for you. Two days Jules Harben was killed. He went down in a bathysphere, over a thousand feet down in the sea. No-one knows yet what went wrong - my men are still investigating; that is why I know Harben's name - but the bathysphere failed to return. When it was located Harben's body was found inside. He had been stabbed in the back - murdered..!"
7. DEEP SEA MYSTERY
Blake's mind was reeling as he walked away from the Police Headquarters in the blaze of the Caribbean noon.
Was Tarratona right?
Had the man really been killed?
Had Jules Harben, alias Jakob Kraski, Soviet Master-Spy actually departed this life?
It seemed incredible. Beyond all belief.
Could one of Craille's arch-enemies actually have perished so easily?
If true it represented an ironic twist of fate - and a tremendous stroke of fortune.
Of all the bizarre ways for a Soviet Master-Spy to die - in a bathysphere!
And yet, beneath the sudden elation Blake felt a strange uneasiness… a puzzling insecurity…
Another hand had intervened somewhere; an unknown quantity was at work; either that or the long arm of coincidence.
If the Harben who had died in the bathysphere was the Harben he was looking for, how had he come to die in such intriguing circumstances?
How had he been killed?
Who had murdered him?
And above all, why had he been murdered?
Blake didn't know the answers to these strange and disturbing questions. But one thing hje did know: he had to find out!
The questions were burning relentlessly in his mind as he strode swiftly away from the city's main plaza, heading for the waterfront in search of a boat that would take him where he wanted to go - the offshore anchorage of the research ship Gorgon…
The harbour of Carabanos had been built of granite by the Spaniards, two hundred years before. Slave labour had constructed it and Spanish soldiers had garrisoned it.
It was the harbour that Sir Henry Morgan had taken with three small English frigates.
When the Conqueror of Panama had taken Carabanos the port had become the haunt of every freebooter on the Spanish Main. The harbour district was rich with legends concerning Blackbeard, Kidd and Morgan himself.
But now a different kind of pirate had taken over the port - pirates who called themselves boatmen and hired out motor-vessels to the tourists.
Blake's mind boggled as he saw the prices of hiring. But eventually he got hold of a motor-boat which looked seaworthy, and inquired as to the position of the Gorgon.
Minutes later he was steering the craft out to sea at a steady twelve knots.
The deep waters of the Caribbean were an unusually beautiful turquoise in the noonday sunshine.
Soon, Carabanos lost its appearance of squalor, dirt and disease; from a distance it began to look like a fairy city as Blake's boat throbbed away from the shore.
The sun flashed on white walls and roofs. It was mirrored in the blue-green ocean.
Soon too, the squat, solid ship which was Hoddard Curtis's deep-sea laboratory, came into sight. Lines dangled from derricks over the bow, and the deck-space was littered with diving equipment of all kinds.
A few men dozed among the gear, taking their siesta, but Blake could make out the figure of one man who was hard at work - a man in white shirt and trousers who was carrying a clip-board and pencil and moving towards the stern.
As Blake drew near he saw that the man was tall and quite young. He had sandy-blond hair and his skin was flayed brown by the wind and sun.
Blake cupped his hands to form a megaphone and shouted over the water: "Ahoy there! Can I come aboard?"
The man stopped and stared at the newcomer for a moment before shouting back: "No reporters allowed!"
Blake drew alongside before replying.
"My name's Blake! I'm not a reporter - I want to see Professor Curtis!"
The man shrugged. "I'm Curtis - all right, come aboard."
Blake brought his motor-boat alongside a steel ladder which ran up to the ship's deck. He moored it to one of the rungs and climbed dexterously up the ladder to be greeted by the biologist.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your work professor," he held out a hand to the tall man. "How d'you do?"
"What can I do for you, Mr. Blake?" Curtis inquired. He was not smiling. His mouth was set in a grim, tense line and he was obviously under a great deal of strain.
"I'm interested in a man who signed up with you in Brazil some weeks ago," said Blake. "The name's Harben. I understand from the police that he met with an accident-"
"The police told you?" Curtis frowned. "You must have powerful friends! No-one else has been allowed anywhere near the ship. The information's under censorship and I've been forbidden to talk to the press…"
"Why?" Blake interrupted.
"Search me!" Curtis gave an exasperated shrug. "But it's all so secret no-one knows what's happening. There are two other men here now, searching Harben's cabin - FBI detectives. Are you from the British police?"
"No," Blake denied. "I'm an insurance claims investigator. I was trying to find Harben because we need him as a witness in a case of arson that happened months ago."
"Well you're too late now," Curtis said grimly. "Harben's dead. And he took all my money with him - my efforts of years. If you want to see him you'll have to dive a thousand feet down. That's where he is - in my bathysphere somewhere in the Tarangas Trench… with a knife in his back!"