‘It’s not every day we rub shoulders with multi-millionaires, Kate. It’s natural we should feel curious about these people. That we should be dazzled by them and their wealth.’
‘Is that a personal observation? What is this?’
‘I just want you to be careful, that’s all. We’ve got a job to do here. Don’t get distracted by anything. Don’t get your head turned by anyone. By this guy, for instance.’
‘You know what this is? This is connected to something else,’ said Kate. ‘Which is that you feel uncomfortable on a personal level with me talking to other men. I think you’re jealous.’
‘Me, jealous? That’s ridiculous.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I just don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want you to screw things up for yourself, or for this whole operation.’
Kate smiled bitterly. ‘And I suppose the way you were conducting yourself with the captain of the Jade last night somehow evades the category of foolish, does it?’
‘Look Kate, I’m a little older
‘That’s something we can agree on anyway. Better not push your luck and try wiser, OK?’
‘I know where to draw the line.’
‘Don’t you mean spin a line? You were coming onto Rachel Dana like you owned Kansas.’
‘Now wait a minute —’
‘No, you wait a goddamn minute. You’re trying to make me feel guilty. To wrong-foot me about this. Well you can save your shoes. I don’t feel guilty for anybody. And don’t lecture me about keeping my mind on the job, sir. Keeping my mind on the job cost me a husband. Did you ever lose a marriage because of your work? It has its depressing moments. One of the things that gets you through to the other side is the idea that your job means something. That it’s important. That doing it makes a difference. So don’t lecture me about my job. You can leave that job to my husband’s divorce lawyer. Sir.’
Kate walked swiftly out of the galley. A minute or so later Bowen saw her going along the high side of the ship and stopping to speak to the owner of the Juarista. Bowen finished his coffee and then went up to the flybridge. He sat down in one of the pilot’s chairs, switched on the digital scrambler, and picked up the radio handset.
‘This is turkey in the hay calling turkey in the straw. This is turkey in the hay calling turkey in the straw. Are you receiving me? Over.’
There followed a short pause filled with the noise of static and then Bowen heard the voice of the USS Galveston’s duty radio man.
‘Turkey in the hay, this is turkey in the straw, receiving you. Are you secure? Over.’
‘Turkey in the hay, all secure. I want you to relay a message back to FBI headquarters in Washington. Have the Records Division run a check on a David Dulanotov. That’s D-U-L-A-N-O-T-O-V. Also other permutations of that name. Spelling was never my forte. In addition, I’d like to have them check on a boat called the Juarista. That’s J-U-A-R-I-S-T-A. Originally registered in San Diego, California. Everything and anything. Oh yeah, one more thing. All of this information is to be given up by you only on my specific request. Me. ASAC Kent Bowen. It is to be withheld unless specifically asked for. Got that? Over.’
‘Turkey in the hay, this is turkey in the straw. We copy. Over.’
‘This is turkey in the hay, over and out.’
Bowen turned off the radio and leaned back in the fine leather chair. He was quite impressed that Kate could make sense of all these computer screens. Several times he’d watched her run various troubleshooting sequences — that’s what she’d called them anyway — and still he had no idea what she’d been doing. Maybe she did know a lot about boats, but he knew about investigation and all things forensic. Being inquisitive, finding out about people, knowing exactly who you were dealing with — all of that helped keep you ahead in the game. Bowen believed that most rich people usually had something to hide. Along the lines of the old saying that behind every great fortune was a great crime. It would be interesting to see what David Dulanotov’s secret was, and what Kate’s reaction would be when eventually he got to tell her all about it.
‘The boat at the stern of the ship, the one we’re going to steal and use as our getaway, it’s called the Britannia,’ Dave told Al.
They were sitting on the double bed in Al’s stateroom. With no windows or portholes, it was the most secure place on the Juarista. And since Al had never bothered to change his sheets since Costa Rica, it was also the most malodorous.
‘It’s not as fast as this boat, but looking at her I’d say she can do twenty-five knots, no problem. She’s got twin bow thrusters, so there won’t be any difficulty maneuvering her out to sea. Power’s not going to be a problem either. I’ve been watching them. She’s got more solar panels than a fuckin’ space station, and the captain — who, incidentally, looks just like Gilbert Roland — he keeps the engines turned over. The only outstanding question I have about her is how much fuel she has on board.’
Al frowned. ‘Who the fuck is Gilbert Roland?’
‘Played a lot of Mexicans in movies.’ Dave shook his head as Al’s face remained a blank. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘And what about the money?’
‘What about it?’
‘What I mean, motherfucker, is that you don’t know how much fuel there is on this other boat, so maybe you don’t really have a fuckin’ clue about how much money there is either.’
‘That’s a complete non sequitur,’ said Dave. ‘Your pain-in-the-ass conclusion does not follow from the premises you stated. Believe me. It’s there.’
‘If you were Jesus Christ and you swore on the holes in your hands and the wound in your side the money was there, I’d still say, what makes you so fuckin’ sure?’
‘Ye of little faith. Will you forget about the money? The money’s where it’s supposed to be. Which is more than I can say of your attitude. Why can’t you be more like one of those other disciples, Al? Not having seen and yet believed. Just be cool about the fuckin’ money.’ Dave shook his head, weary of Al’s doubt. Changing the subject, he said, ‘Did you find somewhere to lock everyone up?’
Al said, sullenly, ‘I think so. I went right over the accommodation block and the best area seems to be on the lower deck. There’s an engineer’s workshop and end storeroom alongside the engine room. Apart from some tools and shit, place is more or less empty. Door’s good too. Solid steel, outside bolt. If we left the tools, they could probably hammer their way out in a few hours. By that time we’ll be long gone, right?’
‘With the wind.’
Al bent down and drew a baseball kit bag toward him, still wet-looking and smelling bad after several days in the fish-box. He said, ‘Me and you, Scarlett, it’s about time we got to meet our partners in crime. All of them combat veterans. And the first to do the boogie is the nine-mill Heckler & Koch, M5 submachine gun. Weighs no more than a newborn baby, and it’s just as fuckin’ loud. Fires thirty rounds. Effective range around 100 meters.’ He handed over the weapon and showed Dave how to eject the magazine.
‘It’s slung on a length of rubber tube, SEAL style, in case we have to take a bath with it. Fitted with waterproof laser sights, takes a nine-volt battery for up to thirty hours of continuous play. You’d have to be Stevie Wonder not to hit the target with this mother. Guaranteed accuracy or your money back.’
Al reached into the bag and came up with a pistol.
‘Next to do the boogie is the Heckler & Koch forty-five ACP Special operations handgun. Brand loyalty’s a big thing with me, in case you hadn’t noticed. I always eat the same fuckin’ breakfast cereal and I always use the same gun. Two most important things in your day are a good start — that means a good breakfast — and a good gun. There’s enough uncertainty in the world already without trusting new shit that you haven’t used before.’