The tough-faced stewards who had escorted him earlier were wait- ing. One opened the door and led the way, while the other man took up the rear. The walk gave Austin ample opportunity to exercise, and he felt his legs grow stronger with every step. They came to the main deck salon, and one of the men motioned for Austin to enter. Then he and the other man left him alone.
Austin stepped into the salon and raised his eyebrows. He had been on dozens of yachts and had found the decor to be similar. Chrome and leather and clean contemporary lines were the norm. But the Navarras salon resembled the interior of a southern European farmhouse.
The eggshell-white walls and ceiling were of stucco, inlaid with rough-hewn beams, and the floor was a red tile. A fire was crackling in a large, stone fireplace that had been built into one wall. Over the mantle was a painting of men playing a game Austin recognized as jai alai. He went up to a still-life painting of assorted fruit and was examining the signature when a deep voice said, "Interested in art, Mr. Austin?"
Aguirrez had come up from behind without making a sound. Austin said, "I collect dueling pistols, which I think of as a form of art."
"Without question! Deadly art is still art. I picked up that Cezanne for my little collection last year. The other pieces I found at auction or acquired from private sources."
Austin strolled past the Gauguins, a Degas, Manets and Monets. The "little collection" was more extensive than that found in many museums. He moved to another wall that was covered with large photographs.
"These are originals, too?"
"A few of my holdings," Aguirrez said, with a shrug. "Ship- building yards, steel mills and so forth." He sounded like a jaded waiter rattling off items on a menu. "But enough of business." He took Austin by the arm. "Dinner is ready."
He led the way through sliding doors into an elegant dining room. At the center of the room was an oval mahogany table set for twelve. Aguirrez removed his beret and, with a snap of his wrist and great accuracy, flung it to a chair across the room. He gestured grandly to- ward the two opposite chairs at one end of the table. As the two men
took their seats, a waiter appeared from nowhere and poured their tall goblets full of wine.
"I think you will like this sturdy Spanish Rioja," Aguirrez said. He raised his glass. "To art."
"To the master and crew of the Navarra "You're very gracious," Aguirrez said with obvious approval. "Ah good," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I see that our feast is about to begin.
There were no appetizers, and they dug right into the main course, a hearty bean, pepper and pork-rib dish served with cabbage. Austin complimented the chef and asked what the dish was.
"This is called alubias de tolosa" Aguirrez said, downing his food with gusto. "We Basques treat it with an almost mystical reverence."
"Basque. Of course. Navarra is a Basque province. Then there's the jai alai painting. And the black beret."
"I'm impressed, Mr. Austin! You seem to know a great deal about my people."
"Anyone interested in the sea knows that the Basques were the greatest explorers, sailors and shipbuilders in the world."
Aguirrez clapped his hands. "Bravo." He refilled Austin's wine- glass and leaned forward. "Tell me, what is your interest in the sea?" He maintained his ferocious grin, but pinioned Austin with a pene- trating gaze.
Austin admired the way Aguirrez had subtly managed the con- versational shift. Until he knew his host better and learned why the blue yacht was hanging out near the Oceanus fish farm, Austin planned to play his cards close to his vest.
"I'm a salvage specialist," he said. "I've been working on a project in the Faroes. I came to Skaalshavn to do some fishing."
Aguirrez sat back and roared with laughter. "Excuse my bad man- ners," he said with tears in his eyes. "But it was my men who fished you from the sea."
Austin's mouth widened in a sheepish grin. "A cold swim wasn't in my plans."
Aguirrez became serious again. "From what we saw, there was an explosion on your boat."
"The ventilation for the engine compartment was insufficient, and gasoline vapors collected. It happens sometimes with inboards," Austin said.
Aguirrez nodded. "Strange. In my experience, explosions of that type usually happen when a boat has been sitting at the dock. And your wound undoubtedly was caused by flying metal."
"Undoubtedly," Austin said with a poker face, knowing full well that the ship's doctor would have seen that there were no burn marks on his skin and his wound was too neat to be from a jagged hunk of metal. Austin didn't know why Aguirrez was playing verbal cat- and-mouse, but he went along with the game. "I was lucky you were nearby."
Nodding soberly, Aguirrez said, "We watched your earlier en- counter with the patrol boat and saw you head along the coast. When we rounded the point later, you had vanished. Not long after that, you burst from that sea cave like a man shot from a cannon." He clapped his big hands together. "Boom! Your boat was in pieces and you were in the water."
"That about sums it up," Austin said, with a faint smile. After offering Austin a short, thick cigar, which he refused, Aguir- rez lit up a dark stogie that smelled like a toxic waste site. "So my friend," he said, blowing smoke through his nostrils. "Did you get into the caves?"
"Caves?" Austin feigned innocence.
"For God's sakes, man, that's why I'm here, to find the caves. Surely you must have wondered what my boat is doing in this God- forsaken place."
"It had occurred to me."
"Then allow me to explain. I have done very well with my busi- nesses.
An understatement. You're very fortunate. Congratulations.
"Thank you. My wealth gives me the means and the time to do whatever I like. Some men choose to spend their fortune on beauti- ful young women. I choose to be an amateur archaeologist."
"Ambitious hobbies in either case." "I still enjoy the company of beautiful women, especially if they are intelligent. But with me, the past is more than a hobby." He looked as if he were about to spring from his chair. "It is my passion. As you said earlier, the Basques were great men of the sea. They pioneered the cod and whale fisheries off North America decades before Columbus. An ancestor of mine, Diego Aguirrez, profited from this trade."
"He would be proud to see his descendant has carried on his legacy."
"You're more than kind, Mr. Austin. He was a man of great courage and unyielding principle, qualities that got him in trouble with the Spanish Inquisition. He angered one of the more ruthless Inquisitors."
"Then he was executed?" Aguirrez smiled. "He was resourceful, as well. Diego saw his wife and children to safety. I am a direct descendant of his eldest son. Family tradition says he escaped in one of his ships, but his fate is a mystery."
"The sea is full of unsolved puzzles." Aguirrez nodded. "Nevertheless, he left tantalizing clues that show he intended to put himself far beyond the reach of the Inqui- sition. The traditional North American route for the Basques in- cluded a stopover here in the Faroes. So I began to explore that link. You know the origins of the name Skaalshavn?"