Just before they began their trek the sailor said, “Now you can see what possibly ‘ate’ those boats.” Their eyebrows raised and they all nodded in agreement.
Marcus Grey looked at the sailor and smiled gently. The kid would find a fat envelope delivered to him soon. Hooker and Judy had been standing in the back, watching the show from a distance. When the sailor had intimated that loose mines could be the eater, he said, “Smart move.”
Judy squinted at him, a silent question.
“You have powerful people out there. They can control things. They just saw firsthand what old mines could do, corroborated by the navy, and as far as they are concerned, everything that has happened, the destroyed boats, the dead islanders... all that speculation about an ‘eater’ is rumor.”
“Rumor,” she said softly. “You think it should stay that way?” she asked.
This was a situation Marcus Grey had studied very carefully and his answer was quite direct. “Most of our guests are possibly... and likely persons we will include in financing the Midnight Cruise projects,” he told her.
“And you don’t think rumors would panic them?” There was no accusation in her tone at all, just a simple curious question.
With studied seriousness Marcus shook his head. “Not rumors. Only facts, and the navy has offered us just that... visual facts.”
For several seconds she stared at Marcus Grey, her eyes locked on his. After a long pause she said, “Something has destroyed the boats. There certainly will be a big investigation into what hit the Arico Queen.”
Very solemnly Marcus nodded. “And I’m sure they will agree with the navy’s capable deduction. Pure logic tells us that there is nothing that ‘eats’ boats.” Without waiting for Judy to speculate on his answer he added, “You know how far they’ve gotten with that movie script on the ‘eater’?” He pronounced the last word quietly.
“Pell seems to think they were pretty well along. There’s very big money ready to go into this if they can get a decent story out of it.”
A small, satisfied smile creased Marcus Grey’s mouth. He said, “Well, if the story, the real thing, isn’t all that big or threatening, they can still go into the studio labs and make a film about it. The publicity is as big as the Bermuda Triangle story, and they’ve made a half dozen films about that. But if the eater actually exists and their footage is real, that’s where the big money is. Right now the public is on the edge of their seats waiting to see what happens next. Tomorrow everything shot on those mines will be national news.”
“Featuring Midnight Cruise lines.”
“Can’t help that.”
“With Lotusland standing by, ready to shoot. In the background lending dramatic authenticity is the Tellig, featuring super-secret electronics, representing our government’s interest in this affair. All this with the Sentilla proudly doing a public works favor, very nonbelligerent.”
“That really bothers you,” she asked Hooker, “doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does. Everybody is after the money. The setup and the cast came naturally. The threat is still there. Nobody cares what it’s really all about.”
“Mako, you’re wrong.”
He looked at her, his eyes tight.
“We care, don’t we?”
The fury left his eyes and the grin touched his lips. She touched them with her forefinger and said, “Let’s go find a phone.”
It was the odd tone of her voice that made Hooker stare at her. “Something important?” he asked her.
“I want to speak to Pell,” she said.
Mako narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering what she was thinking of. When Judy turned he followed her back to the communications room and watched while she dialed. “You want me to leave?” he asked her.
Judy just shook her head.
In about twenty seconds somebody brought Pell to the line, and even though Judy had the receiver to her ear Mako could hear the snarl of Pell’s voice when he answered. But as soon as he recognized Judy the voice got syrupy again.
Judy was cold and direct when she said, “Anthony, I’ve been thinking that this picture we’re considering producing could be a detriment to the Midnight Cruise lines. I’ve discussed it with some of the principals, and they seem to agree with me.”
This time Anthony Pell’s voice lost all its syrup. He quietly exploded with, “Dammit, Judy, we’re not about to dump this feature! You realize how much we have invested already? Hell, I even have distributors banging away at each other to get the release before we even shoot a foot of film. With all this publicity there’s no way we can dump this film!”
Judy was just as fiercely quiet when she said, “I’m part of this deal too, Anthony.”
“Baby, you’re on the money end. Or maybe you didn’t read our contract yourself. Don’t give me a hard time on this or we’ll wind up in court, and I’ll win hands down.”
From the expression on her face Mako knew Judy had let something slip by her. Somebody else had scanned the contract and she had okayed it, probably while she was tied up with some other project.
Pell’s voice came back on the phone and he asked, “Who you been talking to, kiddo?” And this time it was the old Brooklyn Tony Pallatzo voice Mako remembered so well. He grinned and waved at Judy, making a throat-slicing gesture that meant to cut off the call.
This time, quietly, Judy gave in with, “Well, you’re probably right. We’ll go ahead with it.”
“Real good, baby. All we need is that bigand I mean BIG endingand we have the world in our pocket.” He paused, said, “Take care, kiddo,” and hung up.
Judy cradled the phone and looked up at Hooker. “He’s a snake, isn’t he?”
“A real live one.”
“So how do I protect myself?”
“I’ll think of something,” Hooker told her. He had a tight grin on his face that she couldn’t quite read and she felt a shudder cross her shoulders.
Back on the deck the portable bars were busy again. The men were sipping gently at drinks that were more flowery than potent. Some had miniature Japanese parasols spouting out of the glass and others looked more like fruit punches than highballs. At least there were no sloppy drunks mouthing off and Hooker let a little grin crease his mouth.
“Self-control is why they’re rich,” Judy said.
“What?”
“You were wondering, weren’t you?”
“Damn, can you read my mind?” Hooker blurted.
“Sometimes.”
This time Hooker grinned. “Then watch it,” he said. “I might just embarrass the hell out of you.”
“Good,” Judy answered, then gave his hand a squeeze. Without letting go she turned and started to walk toward the stern of the ship. There the area was empty, the hum of voices from the bow barely audible. No personnel monitored the passageways and the only sound was that of the waves slapping against the hull.
Judy sidled toward the rail, leaned on it and stared out over the water for a long minute before she turned and said to Mako, “I want to hear more about Anthony Pell.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
A few seconds flicked by and she said, “Yes, I do. But I want to know more.”