Pitt thought for a moment. Then it came to him.
"Lillie Beer. Of course, that's it. Lillie Beer. What's the slogan? Brewed for the gourmet's table."
"Proof that it pays to advertise," Lillie said. "I take it you're another one of our satisfied customers?"
"No. I prefer Budweiser."
"I can see you're going to be a hard man to get along with," Lillie moaned.
"Not really." Pitt released the derringer's hammer and threw the tiny gun to Lillie. "Be my guest. You couldn't possibly be one of the bad guys and come up with a story that wild."
Lillie fielded the gun. "Your trust is warranted, Major. I told you the truth."
"You're a long way from the brewery, or is that another story?"
"Very dull and very time-consuming. Some other time, perhaps, I'll pour out my biography over a glass of Dad's product." He calmly retaped the gun to the inside of his cap as if it was an everyday occurrence. "Now then, you mentioned a third attempt on your life."
"You offered to give me a detailed, hour-by-hour account of my actions since I left Washington. You tell me."
"Nobody's perfect, Major. I lost you for two hours today."
Pitt did some fast mental arithmetic. "Where were you around noon?"
"On the southern shore of the island."
"Doing what?"
Lillie turned away and looked across the barren fields, his face empty of all expression. "At exactly ten minutes after twelve this afternoon I was pushing a knife into another man's throat."
"Then there were two of you keeping an eye on The Grimsi?"
"The Grimsi? Ah, of course-the name of your old boat. Yes, I stumbled into the other guy quite by accident. After you and the admiral and Miss Royal took off toward the southeast, I had a hunch your anchor would drop in the area where you and Dr. Hunnewell crashed. I drove across the peninsula and arrived too late-that damned old scow was faster than I thought-you were already sketching up a storm while Admiral Sandecker was playing the role of Izaak Walton. The very picture of your contentment had me fooled completely."
"But not your competitor. His binoculars were stronger."
Lillie shook his head. "A telescope. One hundred and seventy-five power, mounted on a tripod, no less."
"Then the glint I saw from the boat was from the reflecting mirror."
"If the sun caught it right, a visible flash would be the obvious giveaway."
Pitt was silent for a moment as he lit a cigarette.
The click of the lighter seemed strangely loud in the open of the barren landscape. He exhaled and looked at Lillie.
"You say you knifed him?"
"Yes, it was unfortunate, but he left me no choice." Lillie leaned over the hood of the Volvo and rubbed a palm over his forehead, seemingly at ease with his inner self. "He-I don't know his name, as there was no identification-was bent over the telescope talking into a portable transmitter when I crept around an outcropping of rock and literally bumped into him. His attention and mine had been focused on your boat. He didn't expect me, and I didn't expect him. To his final re,ret, he acted first,and without forethought. Pulled a switchblade knife from a sleeve-rather old-fashioned, really-and leaped." Lillie made a helpless shrug. "The poor guy tried to stab instead of slash-the sure sign of an amateur. I should have taken him alive for questioning, but I got carried away during the heat of the moment and turned his knife against him."
"Too bad you didn't get to him five minutes sooner," Pitt said.
"Why is that?"
"He'd already radioed our position so his buddies could close in for the kill."
Lillie stared at Pitt questioningly.
"For what purpose? Merely to steal a few sketches or a bucket of trash?"
"Something much more important. A jet aircraft."
"I know. Your mysterious black jet. The thought had occurred that you might go looking for it when I guessed your destination, but your report failed to pinpoint the exact-" Pitt interrupted, his voice deceptively friendly. "I know for certain that Admiral Sandecker has had no contact with you or your agency since he left Washington. He and I are the only ones who know what's in that report…" Pitt paused, suddenly remembering. "Except-"
"Except the secretary at the consulate who typed it," Lillie finished, smiling. "My compliments, your commentary was well written." Lillie didn't bother to explain how the consulate secretary passed him a copy and Pitt didn't bother to ask him. "Tell me, Major, how do you go about dredging for a sunken aircraft with nothing but a sketch pad and a fishing pole?"
"Your victim knew the answer. He detected my air bubbles through his telescope."
Lillie's eyes narrowed. "You had diving equipment?" he asked flatly. "How? I watched you leave the dock and saw nothing. I studied you and the admiral from the shore and neither of you left the deck for more than three minutes. After that I lost visibility when the fog rolled in."
"The N.I.A. doesn't have a monopoly on sneaky, underhanded plots," Pitt said, shooting Lillie down in flames. "Let's sit in the car and make ourselves comfortable and I'll tetl you about another ordinary garden variety day in the life of Dirk Pitt."
So Pitt slouched in the rear seat with his feet propped on the backrest of the front and told Lillie what had happened from the time The Grimsi left the Fyrie dock until it had returned. He told what he knew for certain and what he didn't, everything, that is, except for one little indefinable thought that kept itching in his mind-a thought that concerned Kirsti Fyrie.
Chapter 12
"So you've selected Oskar Rondheim as your villain," Lillie murmured. "You haven't convinced me with any solid proof."
"I agree, it's all circumstantial," Pitt said. "Rondheim has the most to gain. Therefore, Rondheim has the motive. He murdered to get his hands on the undersea probe and he's murdered to cover his tracks."
"You'll have to do better than that."
Pitt looked at Lillie. "Okay, come up with a better one."
"As an agent in good standing with the N.I.A I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm a bit confused."
"You're confused." Pitt shook his head in mock sadness. "I can't say I find it too comforting knowing our nation's security rests in your hands."
Lillie smiled faintly. "It is you who has provided the confusion, Major. It is you who has broken the chain."
"What chain?" Pitt said. "Or am I supposed to guess?"
Lillie hesitated a moment before answering. Finally he looked directly at Pitt.
"During the last eighteen months a chain of strange circumstances has been forged by country by country, from the southernmost tip of Chile to the northern border of Guatemala. Secretly, through a complex series of clandestine maneuvers, the great mining companies of South America have slowly merged into one giant syndicate. Outwardly it's business as usual, but behind the locked and barred doors of their respective administrations, the policies governing their operations come directly from a single unknown voice."
Pitt shook his head. "Not possible. I can name at least five Countries that have nationalized their mining cartels. There's no way they could tie in with a private company beyond their borders."
"None the less, it's a documented fact. Where the mines have been nationalized, the management is controlled by an outside organization. The Parnagus-janios high-grade iron ore pits of Brazil, the Domingo bauxite mines of the Dominican Republic, the government silver mines of Honduras, they all take their directives from the-same person or persons."