Celtic Empire (Dirk Pitt 25)

“Disorientation and panic can strike even the most seasoned diver,” Gunn said. “He was in nighttime conditions with a strong current and low visibility. A dangerous mix for a diver all alone. There was also the fatigue factor.”

Gunn was probably right, Pitt thought, and that’s what stung. He shouldn’t have allowed Cruz to dive alone, regardless of his experience. Pitt felt the guilt of his death, and he hoped it wasn’t clouding his judgment.

“He was in shallow depths. If his tank got entangled, he could have ditched it and kicked to the surface. Yet there was no evidence he even tried. Besides the location of his scooter, there’s the matter of his regulator.”

Gunn examined it. “Doesn’t appear damaged. In fact, it appears brand-new.”

“Too new. And it’s not the make we carry on our projects.”

“Someone swapped his regulator?”

“Possibly.”

Gunn glanced at the regulator, then back at Pitt. “If he was murdered, why leave his body in the wreckage? They could have let him drift downriver where his remains might never have been found.”

“It could be either to make it look like an accident or to discourage anybody searching downriver.”

“That could explain a motive, but who would have done it?”

Pitt shook his head. “The big unknown. I checked with the captains of all of the vessels working the site. None saw any unknown boats approach at the time of Mike’s dive. But, it was late at night.”

“That leaves,” Gunn said, “a finite number of divers on the assigned vessels.”

“Eleven that I could determine. Six NUMA divers on the barge, including Al and me, three divers on the BioRem freighter, and one auxiliary diver each on both the lift barge and the evacuation tanker. Our divers were all on board during Mike’s dive. The other vessels reported the same.”

“Then someone’s lying or it was indeed an accident. Be difficult to prove either way.”

Pitt looked at Gunn with a steady gaze. “I’d like you to find everything you can on BioRem Global.”

“A hunch?”

“If even that. They were the only ones downriver of the Mayweather.”

“I’ll do it, and monitor the autopsy findings from Detroit.”

Gunn started to leave when Zerri Pochinski poked her head into the room. “Sorry to bother you two, but there’s an unscheduled visitor outside. Would you have time to see one Elise Aguilar?”

“Of course,” Pitt said. “Please show her right in.”

He met Elise at the door and received a friendly hug. Dressed in a Elie Tahari business suit, with her dark curls neatly subdued in a low ponytail, she looked nothing like the waterlogged scientist Pitt had rescued in El Salvador.

“Now this is what I call a pleasant surprise,” Pitt said. He introduced her to Gunn and offered her a seat. “Not only am I surprised to see you so soon. I’m surprised to see you looking so well.”

Elise blushed. “I do feel pretty good. Two days at Walter Reed was enough motivation for me to heal quickly. I’ll just be stuck with this a few more weeks.” She raised her left arm, revealing a soft cast. “The doctors promise it will be as good as new.”

“That’s terrific news,” Pitt said.

“I read in the papers about your salvage work in Detroit and was hoping you were back in the building. I wanted to say thanks for what you did to save my life.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t help your colleagues.”

“Part of the reason I stopped by,” she said. “There’s a local memorial service scheduled next week for my slain friends. I’d be grateful if you and Mr. Giordino could attend.”

“We’d be honored,” Pitt said.

“Dirk told me about your swim over the dam,” Gunn said. “Could I ask if there was anything of interest in the water samples you collected from the reservoir?”

Elise smiled. “The third reason for my visit. I understand Mr. Giordino sent the samples to Dr. Stephen Nakamura at the University of Maryland. He’s a professor of epidemiology in their Department of Environmental Health and a key research consultant to our agency. He left me a message this morning that he’d tested one of the samples and made an odd discovery.”