Seawitch Part 2

"Work it out for yourself. As for the rest, Fm not too sure. It'll come to me in my sleep. My turn for an early night. See you at four."

The oil was not stored aboard the rig-it is forbidden by a law based strictly on common sense to store hydrocarbons at or near the working platform of an oil rig. Instead, Lord Worth, on La.r.s.en's instructions-which had prudently come in the form of suggestions-had had built a huge floating tank which was anch.o.r.ed, on a basis precisely similar to that of the Seawitch herself, at a distance of about three hundred yards. Cleaned oil was pumped into this after it came up from the ocean floor, or, more precisely, from a ma.s.sive limestone reef deep down below the ocean floor, a reef caused by tiny marine creatures of a now long-covered shallow sea of some half a billion years ago.

Once, sometimes twice, a day a 50,000-ton-capacity tanker would stop by and empty the huge tank. There were three of those tankers employed on the crisscross run to the southern United States. The North Hudson Oil Company did, in fact, have supertankers, but the use of them in this case did not serve Lord Worth's purpose. Even the entire contents of the Sea-witch's tank would not have filled a quarter of the supertanker's carrying capacity, and the possibility of a supertanker running at a loss, however small, would have been the source of waking nightmares for the North Hudson: equally importantly, the more isolated ports which Lord Worth favored for the delivery of his oil were unable to offer deep-water berthside facilities for anything in excess of fifty thousand tons.

It might be explained, in pa.s.sing, that Lord Worth's choice of those obscure ports was not entirely fortuitous. Among the parties to the gentlemen's agreement against offsh.o.r.e drilling, some of the most vociferous of those who roundly 44.Seawit4*h condemned North Hudson's nefarious practices were, regrettably, North Hudson's best customers. They were the smaller companies who operated on marginal profits and lacked the resources to engage in research and exploration, which the larger companies did, investing allegedly vast sums in those projects and then, to the continuous fury of the Internal Revenue Service and the anger of numerous Congressional investigation committees, claiming even vaster tax exemptions. But to the smaller companies the lure of cheaper oil was irresistible. The Seawitch, which probably produced as much oil as all the government official leasing areas combined, seemed a sure and perpetual source of cheap oil-at least until the government stepped in, which might or might not happen in the next decade: the big companies had already demonstrated their capacity to deal with inept Congressional inquiries, and as long as the energy crisis continued n.o.body was going to worry very much about where oil came from, as long as it came. In addition, the smaller companies felt, if the OPEC-the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries- could play ducks and drakes with oil prices whenever they fe}t like it, why couldn't they?

Less than two miles from Lord Worth's estate were the adjacent homes and combined office of Michael Mitch.e.l.l and John Roomer. It was Mitch.e.l.l who answered the doorbell. '

Alistatr Mao Loan The visitor was of medium height, slightly tubby, wore wire-rimmed gla.s.ses, and alopecia had hit him hard. He said: "May I come in?" in a clipped but courteous enough voice.

"Sure." Michael Mitch.e.l.l let him in to their apartment. "We don't usually see people this late."

"Thank you. I come on unusual business. James Bentley." A little sleight of hand and a card appeared. "FBI."

Mitch.e.l.l didn't even look at it. "You can have those things made at any joke shop. Where you from?"

"Miami."

"Phone number?"

Bentley reversed the card, which Mitch.e.l.l handed to Roomer. "My memory man. Saves me from having to have a memory of my own."

Roomer didn't glance at the card either. "It's okay, Mike. I have him. You're the boss man up there, aren't you?" A nod. "Please sit down, Mr. Bentley."

"One thing clear, first," Mitch.e.l.l said. "Are we under investigation?"

"On the contrary. The State Department has asked us to ask you to help them."

"Status at last," Mitch.e.l.l said. "We've got it made, John-except for one thing: the State Department doesn't know who the h.e.l.l we are."

"/ do." Discussion closed. "I understand you gentlemen are friendly with Lord Worth."

Roomer was careful. "We know him slightly, socially-just as you seem to know a little about us."

"I know a lot about you, including the fact that you are a couple of ex-cops who never learned to look the right way at the right time and the wrong way at the wrong time. Bars the ladder to promotion. I want you to carry out a little investigation of Lord Worth."

"No deal," Mitch.e.l.l said. "We know him slightly better than slightly."

"Hear him out, Mike." But Roomer's face, too, had lost whatever little friendliness it may have held.

"Lord Worth has been making loud noises- over the phone-to the State Department. He seems to be suffering from a persecution complex. This interests the State Department, because they see him more in the role of the persecutor than persecuted."

"You mean the FBI does," Roomer said. "You've had him in your files for years. Lord Worth always gives the impression of being very capable of looking out for himself."

- "Thaf s precisely what intrigues the State Department."

Mitch.e.l.l said: "What kind of noises?"

"Nonsense noises. You know he has an oil rig out in the Gulf of Mexico?"

"The Seawiteh? Yes."

"He appears to be under the impression that 47.the Seawitck is in mortal danger. He wants protection. Very modest in his demands, as becomes a multimillionaire-a missile frigate or two, some missile fighters standing by, just in case."

"In case of what?"

"That's the question. He refused to say. Just said he had secret information-which, in fact, wouldn't surprise me. The Lord Worths of this world have their secret agents everywhere."

"You'd better level with us," Mitch.e.l.l said.

"I've told you all I know. The rest is surmise. Calling the State Department means that there are foreign countries involved. There are Soviet naval vessels in the Caribbean at present. The State Department smells an international incident or worse."

"What do you want us to do?"

"Not much. Just to find out Lord Worth's intended movements for the next day or two:"

Mitch.e.l.l said: "And if we refuse? We have our licenses rescinded?"

"I am not a corrupt police chief. If you refuse, you can just forget that you ever saw me. But I thought you might care enough about Lord Worth to help protect him against himself or the consequences of any rash action he might take. I thought you might care even more about the reactions of his two daughters if anything were to happen to their father."

Mitch.e.l.l stood up, jerked a thumb, "The door. You know too d.a.m.n much."

48."Sit down." A sudden-chill asperity. "Don't be foolish: it's my job to know too d.a.m.n much. But apart from Lord Worth and his family, I thought you might have some little concern for your country's welfare."

Roomer said: "Isn't that pitching it a little high?"

'*Very possibly. But it is the policy of the State Department, the Justice Department and the FBI not to take any chances."

Roomer said: "You're putting us in a d.a.m.ned awkward situation."

"Don't think I don't appreciate that. I know Tve put you on a spot and I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to resolve that particular dilemma yourselves."

Mitch.e.l.l said: "Thanks for dropping this little problem in our laps. What do you expect us to do? Go to Lord Worth, ask him why he's been hollering to the State Department, ask him what he's up to and what his immediate plans are?"

Bentley smiled. "Nothing so crude. You have a reputation-except, of course, in the police department-of being, in the street phrase, a couple of slick operators. The approach is up to you." He stood. "Keep that card and let me know when you find out anything. How long would that take, do you think?"

Roomer said: "A couple of hours."

"A couple of hours?" Even Bentley seemed 49.Alto lair MacLeaa momentarily taken aback. "You don't, then, require an invitation to visit the baronial mansion?"

"No."

"Millionaires do."

"We aren't even thousandaires."

"It makes a difference. Well, thank you very much, gentlemen. Goodnight."

After Bentley's departure the two men sat for a couple of minutes in silence, then Mitch.e.l.l said: "We play it both ways?"

"We play it every way." Roomer reached for a phone, dialed a number and asked for Lord Worth. He had to identify himself before he was put through-Lord Worth was a man who respected his privacy.

Roomer said: "Lord Worth? Roomer. Mitch.e.l.l and I have something to discuss with you, sir, which may or may not be of urgency and importance. We would prefer not to discuss it over the phone." He paused, listened for a few moments, murmured a thank you and hung up.

"He'll see us right away. Says to park the car in the lane. Side door. Study. Says the girls have gone upstairs."

"Think our friend Bentley already has our phone tapped?"

"Not worth his FBI salt if he hasn't."

Five minutes later, car parked in the lane, they were making their way through the trees to the side door. Their progress was observed with interest by Marina, standing by the window in .her upstairs bedroom. She looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned and unhurriedly left the room.

Lord Worth welcomed the two men in his study and securely closed the padded door behind them. He swung open the doors of a concealed bar and poured three brandies. There were times when one rang for Jenkins and there were times when one didn't. He lifted his gla.s.s.

"Health. An unexpected pleasure."

"It's no pleasure for us," Roomer said gloom-ay.

"Then you haven't come to ask me for my daughters' hands in marriage?"

"No, sir," Mitch.e.l.l said. "No such luck. John here is better at explaining these things."

"What things?"

"We've just had a visit from a senior FBI agent." Roomer handed over Bentley's card. "There's a number on the back that we're to ring when we've extracted some information from you."

"How very interesting." There was a long pause, then Lord Worth looked at each man in turn. "What kind of information?"

"In Bentley's words, you have been making 'loud noises' to the State Department. According to them, you seem to think that the 51.Alisftalr Mactean is under threat. They want to know where you got this secret information, and what your proposed movements are."

"Why didn't the FBI come directly to me?'*

"Because you wouldn't have told them any more than you told the State Department. If, that is to say, you'd even let them over the threshold of your house. But they know-Bentley told us this-that we come across here now and again, so I suppose they figured you'd be less off your guard with us."

"So Bentley figures that you'd craftily wring some careless talk from me without my being aware that I was talking carelessly."

"Something like that."

"But doesn't this put you in a somewhat invidious position?"

"Not really."

"But you're supposed to uphold the law, no?"

"Yes." Mitch.e.l.l spoke with some feeling. "But not organized law. Or have you forgotten, Lord Worth, that we're a couple of ex-cops because we wouldn't go along with your so-called organized law? Our only responsibility is to our clients."

Tm not your client."

"No."

**Would you like me to be your client?"

Roomer said: "What on earth for?"

"It's never something for nothing in this world, John. Services have to be rewarded."

"Failure of a mission." Mitch.e.l.l was on his feet. "Nice of you to see us, Lord Worth."

"I apologize." Lord Worth sounded genuinely contrite. 'Tm afraid I rather stepped out of line there." He paused ruminatively, then smiled. "Just trying to recall when last I apologized to anybody. I seem to have a short memory. BJess my lovely daughters. Information for our friends of the FBI? First, I received my information in context of several anonymous threats-telephone calls-on the lives of my daughters. A double-barreled threat, if you will, against the girls if I didn't stop the flow of oil. As they pointed out, I can't hide them forever and there's nothing one can do against a sniper's bullet-and if I were too difficult they'd have the Seawitch blown out of the water. As for my future movements, I'm going out to the Seawitch tomorrow afternoon and will remain there for twenty-four hours, perhaps forty-eight."

Roomer said: "Any truth in either of those two statements?"

"Don't be preposterous., Of course not. I am going out to the rig-but before dawn. I don't want those beady-eyed bandits watching me from the undergrowth at my heliport as I take off."

"You are referring to the FBI, sir?"

"Who else? Will that do for the moment?"

"Splendidly."

They walked back to the lane in silence.

S3.

Allstair MaeLean Roomer got in behind the wheel of the car, Mitch.e.l.l beside him.

Roomer said: "Well, well, well."

"Well, as you say, well, well, well. Crafty old devil."

Marina's voice came from the back. "Crafty he may be, but-"

She broke off in a gasp as Mitch.e.l.l whirled hi his seat and Roomer switched on his interior lights. The barrel of MitchelFs .38 was lined up between her eyes, eyes at the moment wide with shock and fear.

Mitch.e.l.l said in a soft voice: "Don't ever do that to me again. Next time it may be too late."

She licked her lips. She was normally as high-spirited and independent as she was beautiful, but it is a rather disconcerting thing to look down the muzzle of a pistol for the first time in your life. "I was just going to say that he may be crafty but he's neither old nor a devil. Will you please put that gun away? You don't point guns at people you love."

MitchelTs gun disappeared. He said: "You shouldn't fall in love with crazy young fools."

"Or spies." Roomer was looking at Melinda. "What are you two doing here?"

Melinda was more composed than her sister. After all, she hadn't had to look down the barrel of a pistol. She said: "And you, John Roomer, are a crafty young devil. You're just stalling for time." Which was quite true.

54."What's that supposed to mean?'*

"It means you're thinking furiously of the answer to the same question we're about to ask you. What are you two doing here?"