Inca Gold (Dirk Pitt 12)

"That's ancient history. We must have published that book back in the early forties."

"Nineteen thirty-nine to be exact."

"How can I help you?"

"I was hoping Bender might have donated his notes and manuscripts to a university archive. I'd like to study them."

"I really don't know what he did with his material," said Adams. "I'll have to ask him."

"He's still alive?" Perlmutter asked in surprise.

"Oh dear me, yes. I had dinner with him not more than three months ago."

"He must be in his nineties."

"Nicholas is eighty-four. I believe he was just twenty-five when he wrote On the Trail of El Dorado.

That was only the second of twenty-six books we published for him. The last was in 1978, a book on hiking in the Yukon."

"Does Mr. Bender still have all his mental faculties?"

"He does indeed. Nicholas is as sharp as an icepick despite his poor health."

"May I have a number where I can reach him?"

"I doubt whether he'll take any calls from strangers. Since his wife died, Nicholas has become somewhat of a recluse. He lives on a small farm in Vermont, sadly waiting to die."

"I don't mean to sound heartless," said Perlmutter. "But it is most urgent that I speak to him."

"Since you're a respected authority on maritime lore and a renowned gourmand, I'm sure he wouldn't mind talking to you. But first, let me pave the way just to play safe. What is your number should he wish to call you direct?"

Perlmutter gave Adams the phone number for the line he used only for close friends. "Thank you, Mr.

Adams. If I ever do write a manuscript on shipwrecks, you'll be the first editor

to read it."

He hung up, ambled into his kitchen, opened the refrigerator, expertly shucked a dozen Gulf oysters, poured a few drops of Tabasco and sherry vinegar into the open shells, and downed them accompanied by a bottle of Anchor Steam beer. His timing was perfect. He had no sooner polished off the oysters and dropped the empty bottle in a trash compactor when the phone rang.

"Julien Perlmutter here."

"Hello," replied a remarkably deep voice. "This is Nicholas Bender. Frank Adams said you wished to speak to me."

"Yes, sir, thank you. I didn't expect you to call me so soon."

"Always delighted to talk to someone who has read my books," said Bender cheerfully. "Not many of you left."

"The book I found of interest was On the Trail of El Dorado."

"Yes, Yes, I nearly died ten times during that trek through hell."

"You made a reference to a Portuguese survey mission that found a crewman of Sir Francis Drake living among the natives along the Amazon River."

"Thomas Cuttill," Bender replied without the slightest hesitation. "I recall including the event in my book, yes."

"I wonder if you could refer me to the source of your information," said Perlmutter, his hopes rising with Bender's quick recollection.

"If I may ask, Mr. Perlmutter, what exactly is it you are pursuing?"