Valhalla Rising (Dirk Pitt 16)

"Not a clue. He melted into the crowd and escaped."

"The aircraft has to have a registration number that would lead to the owner."

"Our experts haven't had a chance to examine the plane yet."

"Surely the air show officials have his entry papers," said Pitt. "We all had to fill them out for insurance purposes. They should tell you something."

"We're working with New Jersey law enforcement from that end. All they can tell us until they are further into the investigation was that an aircraft collector called and said an identical plane was hangared at a small field near Pittsburgh. He claimed the owner was one Raul St. Justin."

"Sounds phony," offered Pitt.

"We agree," said Hacken. "Did you know St. Justin, or whatever his true name is?"

"No." Pitt stared steadily into Hacken's eyes. "We talked briefly before I took off."

"What did you talk about?"

"His triplane. I've always been fascinated by antique aircraft. Nothing more."

"Then you had never met him previously."

"No."

"Can you give a description and assist our crime artist in making a likeness of his face?"

"I'll be happy to cooperate."

"We're sorry to have put you and Miss Egan through this, but with the death of Mary Conrow, we're looking at a murder investigation as well as charges of endangering public lives. It was a miracle no one was killed when the red airplane strafed you in the city streets and our police helicopter was shot down near a busy intersection."

"We can all be thankful for that," said Pitt sincerely.

"I think that will be all for now," said Hacken. "You and Miss Egan will, of course, have to remain in the city until our investigation is concluded."

"I'm afraid that is impossible, Inspector."

Hacken's eyebrows rose. He wasn't used to having a witness in a prominent case tell him he was leaving town. "May I hear why?"

"Because I'm a part of the ongoing government investigation into the fire on board the cruise ship Emerald Dolphin, as well as the hijacking of a NUMA survey ship. My presence is required in Washington." Pitt paused for effect. "Naturally, you'll want to clear this with my superior, Admiral Sandecker of the National Underwater and Marine Agency." He pulled out his wallet and handed Hacken his NUMA card. "Here is his phone number."

Hacken silently passed the card to one of his detectives, who left the room.

"Are you through with me? I'd like to take Miss Egan home."

Hacken nodded and gestured toward the door. "Please wait outside until we confirm your connection with the government and the investigation."

Pitt found Kelly sitting curled up on a wooden bench. She looked like a pathetic little girl left on the steps of an orphanage. "Are you all right?"

"I can't get over Mary's death," she said sadly. "She was a close friend of my father's for many years."

Pitt's eyes strayed across the busy precinct office to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. Satisfied that no one was within earshot, he asked, "Just how close was Mary to your father?"

She looked at him angrily. "They were lovers over the years, if that's what you want to hear."

"That's not what I want to hear," Pitt said softly. "How knowledgeable was she about your father's projects?"

"She was no stranger to them. Because I had my own career and was away most of the time, she acted as his close confidante, secretary, maid and housekeeper when she wasn't flying with the airlines."

"Did he ever talk to you about his work?"