Deep Six (Dirk Pitt 7)

Events were controlling him. Knowing who tried to kill him provided little satisfaction. Only the Bougainville hierarchy had the motive.

He was getting too close. No brilliance required in solving that mystery. He was angry at himself for playing adolescent computer games with their financial operation while they ran in a tougher league.

Pitt felt like a prospector who'd discovered a safe full of currency in the middle of the Antarctic and no place to spend it. His only leverage was that he knew more than they thought he knew.

The enigma that nagged him was Bougainville's unlikely involvement with the Eagle. He knew of no motive for the sinking and murders. The only tie, a

nd a slim one at that, was the overabundance of Korean bodies.

No matter; that was the FBI's problem, and he was glad to be rin of it.

The time had come, he decided, to get rolling, and the first step was to marshal his forces. No brilliance required in that decision either.

He rose and walked over to the bar. "Can I borrow your phone, Cabot?"

The bartender, a pixie-faced Irishman, name of Sean Cabot, gave Pitt a doleful glare. "Local or long distance?"

"Long distance, but don't cry in your cash register. I'll use a credit card."

Cabot nodded indifferently and set a telephone on the end of the bar away from the other customers. "Too bad about your car, Dirk. I saw her once. She was a beauty."

"Thanks. Buy yourself a drink and put it on my tab."

Cabot filled a glass with ginger ale from the dispenser and held it aloft. "To a Good Samaritan and a bon vivant."

Pitt didn't feel like a Good Samaritan and even less like a bon vivant as he punched out the numbers on the phone. He gave his credit card number to the operator and waited for a voice to answer.

"Casio and Associates Investigations."

"This is Dirk Pitt. Is Sal in?"

"One moment, sir."

Things were looking up. He'd been accepted into the receptionist's club.

"Dirk?" came Casio's voice. "I've been calling your office all morning. I think I've got something."

"Yes?"

"A hunt through maritime union files pain divinends. Six of the Korean seamen who signed on the San Marino had prior crew tickets.

Mostly with foreign shipping lines. But all six had one thing in common. At one time or another they sailed for Bougainville Maritime.

Ever hear of it?"

"It figures," said Pitt. Then he proceeded to tell Casio what he found during the computer search.

"Damn!" Casio exclaimed incredulously. "Everything fits."

"The maritime union, what did their records show on the Korean crew after the San Marino hijacking?"

"Nothing, they dropped from sight."

"If Bougainville history ran true to form, they were murdered."

Casio fell silent, and Pitt guessed what was running through the investigator's mind.

"I owe you," Casio said finally. "You've helped me zero in on Arta's killer. But it's my show. I'll take it alone from here."