"If you're referring to my future sex life, I fear the worst."
"My sympathies, Miss Royal." Sandecker didn't sound very convincing. He lifted the boxes onto the table and pulled off the lids. "OK, here they are, including furniture and draperies."
Pitt looked into the first box. "No indications of water damage."
"They were watertight," Sandecker offered. "Each packed so carefully the crash left them entirely intact.
To say the models were simply masterpieces of difficult art would have been a gross understatement.
The admiral was right. The detail was amazing. Every brick, every windowpane, was precise in scale and placement. Pitt lifted off the roof. He had seen model exhibits before in museums, but never workmanship like this. Nothing had been overlooked. Paintings on the walls were exacting in color and design. The furniture had liny designs printed on the fabric.
Telephones on desks had receivers that could be picked up, connected to wires that led into the walls. As a crowning touch, the bathrooms even possessed toilet paper rolls that unraveled to the touch. The first model building consisted of four floors and a basement. Pitt carefully lifted them off one at a time, studied the contents and just as carefully replaced them. Then he inspected the second model.
"I know this one," Pitt said quietly.
Sandecker looked up. "Are you sure?"
"Positive. It's pink. You don't often forget a structure built of pink marble. It was about six years ago when I entered those walls.
My father was on an economic survey mission for the President, conferring with the heads of finance of Latin American 47
governments. I took a thirty-day leave from the Air Force and acted as his aide and pilot during the trip. Yes, I remember it well, especially this exotic black-eyed little secretary-"
"Spare us your erotic escapades," Sandecker said impatiently. "Where is it located?"
"In El Salvador. This model is a perfect scaleddown replica of the Dominican Republic capitol building." He gestured toward the first model. "Judging from the design, the other model also represents the legislative offices of another South or Central American country."
"Great," Sandecker said unenthusiastically. "We've come up with a character who collects miniature capitols."
"It doesn't tell us a hell of a lot." Tidi handed Pitt a cup of coffee and he sipped it thoughtfully. "Except that the black jet was doing double duty."
Sandecker met his stare. "You mean it was delivering these models when it changed course to shoot down you and Hunnewell?"
"Exactly. One of Rondheim's fishing trawlers probably spotted our helicopter approaching Iceland and diverted the jet by radio so it would be waiting for us when we reached the coast."
"Why Rondheim? I see nothing tangible that ties him in with any of this?"
"Any port in a storm." Pitt shrugged. "I admit I'm groping. And, at that, I'm not completely sold on implicating Rondheim myself. He's like the butler in an old movie mystery. Every piece of circumstantial evidence, every finger of doubt, points to him, making him the most obvious suspect. But in the end, our friendly butler turns out to be an undercover policeman and the least obvious character turns out to be the guilty party."
"Somehow I can't picture Rondheim as an undercover cop." Sandecker crossed the cabin and poured himself another cup of coffee. "But he's just enough of a prick for me to fervently wish that in some form or manner he's behind Fyrie's and Hunnewell's death, so we could zero in on the bastard and nail him to the floor."
"It wouldn't be easy. He's in a pretty solid position."
"If you ask me," Tidi interjected, "you two schemers are jealous of Rondheim because of his hold over Miss Fyrie."
Pitt laughed. "You have to be in love to be jealous."
Sandecker grinned at her. "Your forked tongue is showing, lady."
"I'm not being catty out of spite. I like Kirsti Fyrie."
"I suppose you like Oskar Rondheim too" Pitt said.
"I wouldn't like that snake if he was General of the Salvation Army," she said. "But you have to give the devil his due. He's got Kirsti and Fyrie Limited tucked neatly in his pocket."
Why? Answer that!" Pitt said speculatively.
"How can Kirsti love him if she's terrified of him?"