“He’s not dead.”
“But he’s not active, either.”
Mako said, “That’s because he’s legitimate. He pays his taxes. His associates are reputable.”
“That doesn’t sound like Tony Pell.”
“Sure makes a great cover.”
“If it’s real.”
“Oh,” Mako told him, “it’s real, all right.”
“You think he’s staying clean?”
“I have my doubts,” Mako said, then added, “Now, one more thing. The naval vessel Sentilla is engaged in an operation south of here. Please notify the captain that I want to meet with him shortly and be given what information I need.”
“We can’t interfere with naval missions, you know...”
“Quit the crap,” Mako said abruptly. He wasn’t about to try a bluff with the operator, but he knew how the Company worked in these matters. “They’re operating hand in hand with our people and you damn well know it. You have my files there?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Do I have the authority to make this request?”
“According to this you have unless...”
“Forget the unless. Just do it.”
“I’m going to clear this with my supervisor, you know.”
“Forget your supervisor. You clear it with Fennely and do it now.”
“Director Fennely is...”
“I know who he is,” Mako told him. “Just do it. Now.”
Mako signed off and put the equipment back in its stall. This contact was going to rattle a few cages. Before long he’d have to give a full report on his actions, but they couldn’t take any chances on trying to nudge him off to fit their plans. They had years of his activity in strange places and events that shook the world scene more than once, bringing down some pretty violent people and causing dangerous governments to change hands. At this point they didn’t know how much or how little he knew, and throwing in Anthony Pallatzo would really make somebody scramble.
No formal charge would be made, but the bug would go in somebody’s ear, new orders would go out to field agents and Tony Pell would be under scrutiny again. He’d know they were there, he’d smile and keep everything businesslike, and there would be nothing to report. Somehow he’d manage to do what he had to do, having a contingency plan for just this sort of thing. He’d keep it low-key and clean, but sooner or later some dirt would begin to show and the real Tony Pell would come out of his envelope.
Before he went to bed Mako retrieved his old .45 caliber Colt auto matic, cleaned it thoroughly, even though it didn’t need it, then oiled it, checked the mechanism until he was satisfied with its operation, and slammed in a fully loaded clip, slipping the rig into a niche between his bed and the wall.
He was getting that old feeling again. He didn’t like it at all.
Billy Bright had scooped the eyes out of the fish heads in the stew. Judy expressed mild displeasure when Billy told her it was Mako’s orders, but it was faked. Anyone who wanted fish stew for breakfast wouldn’t make much of a fuss about eyes anyway. The rest of the meal would have cost a fortune in one of Miami’s better restaurants, but here it was a simple island breakfast.
Judy made happy little sounds when she smelled the coffee aroma coming up from the galley. “Why is it your coffee smells so good, Mako?”
It wasn’t a new question for him. “Because I get it fresh-ground in bags from Miami and keep it refrigerated. On the island they buy the canned kind because the cans are as valuable to them as the coffee.”
“Mako!”
“They have nice tight plastic tops and the painted metal takes a long time to rust out. You’d be surprised what they keep in them.”
“Like what?”
“Like things you might keep in a medicine cabinet. Very personal items.”
She stared at him for a moment, then smiled gently. “Are you almost talking dirty?”
“I’m talking about coffee cans.”
Neither of them heard Billy come up behind them until he said, “Mr. Hooker, sar...”
Something was bothering his mate and Mako knew it at once. His eyes tightened and he said, “Yeah, Billy?”
“The barometer...”
“So?”
“She is going to start to fall soon.”
“You get a weather report on VHF?”
“No, sar. But she will fall, you betcha.” There was a very worried expression on Billy’s face.
“How would he know that?” Judy asked Mako.
Both of them scanned the sky for any indication of a weather change. It was cloudless and clear, a beautiful, hot day with waves running less than two feet, the wind gentle and from the southeast. There had been no notification of any change when they left the dock and from all indications it was no less than a perfect day to be going somewhere by boat. But still, Mako didn’t argue the point. To Judy he said, “It’s just something these islanders know.”
“But the Miami weather station...”
“We’re not in Miami.”
Judy could read the seriousness in his tone and a frown wrinkled her forehead. “Are you going to turn back?”
“No... we’re only two hours away from the Sentilla, and it’s three hours back to Peolle.”
Billy was watching him, quietly pleased that Mako had taken his warning seriously.
Mako said, “We won’t do any night sailing, Billy, so quit sweating.”
“Oh, I do not sweat, sar. We can make Reboka Island base before the glass she falls.”
“Then why all the worry talk, Billy?”
The mate’s eyes crinkled and Mako knew he was going to hear another of Billy’s odd opinions or unfathomable judgments.
When he had his thoughts together, Billy said, “Sar, it is like this when the eater, he gets hungry.”
“It’s daytime, Billy.”
“Yes, sar. If he is hungry, he will eat in the daytime.”
“Tell me something, did the barometer always fall the other times when the boats... got ‘et’?”
Very solemnly, Billy Bright nodded. “Every time. Yes, sar, every time.”
“Your friends, they all notice it?”
“We talk about it. Yes, sar.”
“They still went out in the daytimes, didn’t they?”
His eyes roved the horizon. “So they can eat, they have to go out. Some think they can see the eater in time and maybe get away.” He was remembering the Soucan with its bottom holed and Mako had seen the tooth marks himself. He was thinking about the eater being caught in Willie Pender’s net and the way that tough nylon was neatly cut as if by a single great tooth.
“You scared, Billy?” Mako asked him.
A strained grin twitched at Billy’s mouth and he shook his head. “If you and the missy are not scared, I’m not scared.” Then he grinned very broadly and went back to the wheelhouse.
Judy turned her head and looked up at Mako. “You know, I really don’t know just what’s going on here between you two, but somehow I feel scared. I don’t know what’s happening but I’m beginning to feel that this little outing is more like a heavy business trip.”
“You letting that ‘eater’ story bug you?”
“It’s too ridiculous to be true. Those giant great white sharks are all extinct and you know it...”
“I’ve never dived that deep,” he interrupted.
She knew he was making a joke of it, but she kept on anyway just to prove it to herself. “Never mind. If they were down there, and I said were, the enormous pressure change of coming to the surface would turn their bodies inside out.” She ended with an emphatic nod.