"Fainted? You're sure you-" Pitt broke off his question and asked another instead. "What was the very last thing you remember seeing before you blacked out?"
She thought a moment, staring as if at some distant vision in time. Those coffee-brown eyes seemed unnaturally large against her pale and strained face.
Sandecker patted her hand paternally. "Just take your time."
Finally her lips formed a word. "Boots."
"Say again," Pitt ordered.
"A pair of boots," she answered as if seeing a revelation. "Yes, I remember now, a pair of sharp-toed cowboy boots."
"Cowboy boots?" Gunn asked, his expression blank.
Dana nodded. "You see, I was down on my hands and knees trying to extricate my make-up kit, and then . . . I don't know . . . they just seemed to be there . . ." She paused.
"What color were they?" Pitt prodded her.
"Kind of a yellow, cream color."
"Did you see the man's face?"
She started to shake her head and caught herself at the first stab of pain. "No, everything went dark then . . . that's all there is . . . ." Her voice trailed off.
Pitt could see that there was nothing to be gained by further interrogation. He looked down at Dana and smiled. She looked up and smiled back with an anxious-to-please smile.
"We dirty old men had best leave you alone to rest for a while," he said. "If you need anything, one of us will always be close by."
Sandecker followed Pitt over to the entrance to the grand staircase. "What do you make of it?" Sandecker asked. "Why would anyone want to harm Dana?"
"For the same reason they killed Henry Munk."
"You think she got wise to one of the Soviet agents?"
"More likely, in her case, it was a matter
of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"The last thing we need on our hands now is an injured woman." Sandecker sighed. "There'll be hell to pay when Gene Seagram gets my radio message about what happened to his wife."
"With all due respect, sir, I told Gunn not to send your message. We can't risk a change in plans at the last minute. Men make cautious decisions where women are concerned. We won't hesitate to risk the lives of a dozen members of our own sex, but we'll balk every time when it comes to endangering one of the female species. What Seagram, the President, Admiral Kemper, and the others in Washington don't know won't hurt them, at least for the next twelve hours."
"It would appear my authority means nothing around here," Sandecker said acidly. "Anything else you neglected to tell me, Pitt? Like who those outlandish cowboy boots belong to?"
"The boots belong to Ben Drummer."
"I've never seen him wear them. How would . . . how could you know that?"
"I discovered them when I searched his quarters on the Capricorn."
"Now you've added burglarizing to your other talents," Sandecker said.
"Drummer wasn't alone. Giordino and I have searched every one of the salvage crews' belongings over the past month."
"Find anything of interest?"
"Nothing incriminating."
"Who do you think injured Dana?"