“How on earth did you find all this information?” said Julia, overwhelmed with Perlmutter's knowledge of maritime disasters.
He smiled. “From a fellow researcher in China. I have sources around the world that I rely on to send me books and information related to shipwrecks whenever they find it. They know that I pay top dollar for reports that contain new and uncovered ground. The story of the Princess Dou Wan came from an old friend who is China's top historian and researcher by the name of Zhu Kwan. We've corresponded and exchanged maritime information for many years. It was he who mentioned a legend surrounding the alleged treasure ship.”
“Was Zhu Kwan able to give you a manifest of the treasure?” Pitt inquired.
“No, he claimed only that his research led him to believe that before Mao's troops marched into Shanghai, Chiang Kai-shek cleaned out the museums, galleries and private collections of Chinese antiquities. Records of art and artifacts before World War n in China are sketchy to say the least. It is pretty well known that after the Communists took over, there were few antiquities to be found. All that you see in China today were discovered and excavated since nineteen forty-eight.”
“Not one of the lost treasures was ever found?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Perlmutter admitted. “Nor has Zhu Kwan told me any different.”
Pitt took the last swallow from his glass of the forty-year-old port. “So a vast part of China's heritage may lie on the bottom of the sea.”
Julia's expression altered to curiosity. “This is all most interesting, but I fail to see what good any of this has to do with Qin Shang's illegal immigrant-smuggling operations.”
Pitt took her hand and held it tightly. “Your Immigration and Naturalization Service, the Central Intelligence Agency and the Federal Bureau of Investigation can strike Qin Shang and his rotten empire from the front and sides. But his obsession with the lost antiquities of China opens the door for the National Underwater and Marine Agency to strike him from the rear, where he least expects it. St. Julien and I will have to play catch-up. But we're very good at what we do. Together, we make a better search team than any Qin Shang can put together.” Pitt paused, and his expression lightened. “Now the only trick we have to perform is to find the Princess Dou Wan before Qin Shang.”
THE NIGHT WAS STILL YOUNG WHEN PlTT AND JULIA LEFT ST. Julien Perlmutter's carriage house. Pitt turned the Duesenberg around and drove out the driveway toward the street. He stopped before entering the traffic. The two Ford vans driven by the special bodyguards from the security company hired by Peter Harper were not parked and patiently waiting at the curb. They were nowhere in sight.
“It seems we've been abandoned,” said Pitt, his foot firmly on the brake pedal of the Duesenberg.
Julia looked puzzled. “I don't understand. I can think of no reason why they would desert us.”
“Maybe they decided we were boring, and they drove to a sports bar to watch basketball.”
“Not funny,” Julia said grimly.
“Then it's deja vu all over again,” Pitt noted with deceptive calm. He leaned across Julia, reached into a side pocket on the door, pulled out the old .45 Colt that he had reloaded, and handed it to her. “I hope you haven't lost your touch since our escapade on the Orion River.”
She shook her head vigorously. “You're exaggerating the danger.”
“No, I'm not,” he argued. “Something is seriously wrong. Take the gun, and if you have to, use it.”
“There must be a simple explanation for the vans' departure.”
“One more prognostication of Pitt's precognition. The pockets of the Immigration and Naturalization Service are not as deep as the pockets of Qin Shang Maritime Limited. I suspect Harper's private security guards were paid double to pack up and go home.”
Julia snatched the radio transmitter from her purse. “This is Dragon Lady. Come in, Shadow, and give me your position.” She patiently waited for a response, but her only reply was static. She repeated the message four times but received no answer. “This is inexcusable!” Julia snapped.
“Can you raise anyone else with your call box?” Pitt asked cynically.
“No, it's only good for about two miles.”
“Then it's time to—” Pitt stopped in midsentence as the two vans suddenly turned the corner of the block and pulled up at the curb, one on each side of the Duesenberg, which was still sitting in the driveway. They left barely enough room for the Duesenberg's wide, flowing fenders to pass into the street between them. They showed no headlights, only parking lights. The figures inside looked vague and shadowy through the darkened, solar-coated windows.
“I knew nothing was wrong,” said Julia, squinting at Pitt with a know-it-all look. She spoke into her radio transmitter again. “Shadow, this is Dragon Lady, why did you leave your positions around the carriage house?”
This time a voice answered almost immediately. “Sorry Dragon Lady, we thought it best to circle the block and look for any suspicious vehicles. If you are ready to leave, please give us your destination.”
“I don't buy it,” Pitt said, eyeing the distance between the two parked vans while gauging the passing traffic on the street. “One van should have remained in position while the other circled the block. You're an agent. Why am I telling you?”
“Peter would not have hired irresponsible people,” Julia said firmly. “He doesn't work that way.”
“Don't answer just yet!” said Pitt harshly. Danger, like a red warning sign, began to flash in Pitt's brain. “We've been sold out. A dime will get you a dollar those are not the same men Harper hired.”
For the first time Julia's eyes reflected a growing apprehension. “If you're right, what do I tell them?”
If Pitt thought their lives were in deadly peril, he didn't show it. His face was cool, his mind focused. “Say we're going to my place at the Washington National Airport.”
“You live in an airport?” Julia asked, baffled.
“For almost twenty years. Actually, I live on the perimeter.”
Julia shrugged in bewilderment and gave the instructions to the men in the vans as Pitt reached under the seat and produced a cellular phone. “Now get a hold of Harper. Explain the situation and say we're on our way toward the Lincoln Memorial. Tell him I'll try to stall off our arrival until he can arrange an intercept.”
Julia dialed a number and waited for the party on the other end to answer. After giving her identification, she was put through to Peter Harper, who was at home relaxing with his family. After she gave him Pitt's message, she sat and listened in silence before punching off the phone. She looked at Pitt expressionless. “Help is on the way. Peter also said to tell you that considering what happened at your hangar earlier this evening, he regrets not being more alert to possible problems.”
“Is he sending law-enforcement teams to the Memorial for the intercept?”
“He's contacting them now.”
“You never told me what happened at your hangar.”
“Not now.”
Julia began to say something, thought better of it and said simply, “Shouldn't we have waited right here for help?”
Pitt studied the vans parked quietly and ominously at the curb. “I can't sit here any longer looking like I'm waiting for the traffic to ease or our friends will begin to think we're onto them. Once we reach Massachusetts Avenue and merge into the main stream of traffic, we'll be reasonably safe. They won't risk exposure by attacking us in front of a hundred witnesses.”
“You could call nine-one-one on your cell phone and ask them to respond with a patrol car cruising the area.”
“If you were a dispatcher, would you buy some bizarre story and take responsibility for ordering a fleet of patrol cars to charge to the Lincoln Memorial and look for an orange and brown nineteen-twenty-nine Duesenberg that is being pursued by killers?”