〃Mind if I put our conversation on tape？ I'm a terrible note taker。 None of the secretaries can decipher my handwriting。〃
Pitt shrugged agreeably。
Victor moved the machine to the center of the desk and pressed the red Record button。
〃Your name？〃
〃Dirk Pitt。〃
〃Middle initial？〃
〃E for Eric。〃
〃Address？〃
〃266 Airport Place； Washington； D。C。 20001。〃
〃Telephone where you can be reached？〃
Pitt gave Victor the phone number of his office。
〃Occupation？〃
〃Special projects director for the National Underwater and Marine Agency。〃
〃Can you describe the event you witnessed on the afternoon of Saturday； October 20？〃
Pitt told Victor of his sighting the out…of…control blimp during the sailboard marathon race； the mad ride while clinging to the mooring line； and the last…second capture only a few feet away from potential disaster； ending with his entry into the gondola。
〃Did you touch anything？〃
〃Only the ignition and battery switches。 And I laid my hand on the shoulder of the corpse seated at the navigator's table。〃
〃Nothing else？〃
〃The only other place I might have left a fingerprint was on the boarding ladder。〃
〃And the backrest of the copilot's seat；〃 said Victor with a smug smile。 〃No doubt when you leaned over and turned off the switches。〃
〃Fast work。 Next time I'll wear surgical gloves。〃
〃The FBI was most cooperative。〃
〃I admire petence。〃
〃Did you take anything？〃
Pitt shot Victor a sharp look。 〃No。〃
〃Could anyone else have entered and removed any objects？〃
Pitt shook his head。 〃After I left； the hotel security guards sealed off the gondola。 The next person inside was a uniformed police officer。〃
〃Then what did you do？〃
〃I paid one of the hotel lifeguards to swim out and retrieve my sailboard。 He owned a small pickup truck and was kind enough to run me back to the house where I was staying with friends。〃
〃In Miami？〃
〃Coral Gables。〃
〃Mind if I ask what you were doing in town？〃
〃I wound up an offshore exploration project for NUMA and decided to take a week's vacation。〃
〃Did you recognize any of the bodies？〃
〃Not damned likely。 I couldn't identify my own father in that condition。〃
〃Any idea who they might be？〃
〃I assume one of them was Raymond LeBaron。〃
〃You're familiar with the disappearance of the Prosperteer？〃
〃The news media covered the disappearance in great depth。 Only a backwoods recluse could have missed it。〃
〃Any pet theories on where the blimp and its crew were buried for ten days？〃
〃I haven't a clue。〃
〃Not even a wild idea？〃 Victor persisted。
〃Could be a colossal publicity stunt； a media campaign to promote LeBaron's publishing empire。〃
Interest grew in Victor's eyes。 〃Go on。〃
〃Or maybe an ingenious scheme to manipulate LeBaron conglomerate stock prices。 Sell large blocks before he disappears and buy when prices tumble afterward。 And sell again when they rise during his resurrection。〃
〃How do you explain their deaths？〃
〃The plot backfired。〃
〃Why？〃
〃Ask your coroner。〃
〃I'm asking you。〃
〃They probably ate tainted fish on whatever deserted island they hung out on；〃 said Pitt； tiring of the game。 〃How would I know？ If you want a scenario； hire a screenwriter。〃
The interest in Victor's eyes blinked out。 He relaxed in his chair and sighed dejectedly。 〃I thought for a second you might have something； a gimmick that could get me and the department off the hook。 But your theory went down the drain like all the others。〃
〃I'm not surprised；〃 said Pitt with an indifferent grin。
〃How were you able to switch off the power within seconds of entering the control car？〃 Victor asked； bringing the interrogation back on track。
〃After piloting twenty different aircraft during service in the Air Force and civilian life； I knew where to look。〃
Victor appeared satisfied。 〃One more question； Mr。 Pitt。 When you first spotted the blimp； from what direction was she flying？〃
〃She was drifting with the wind out of the northeast。〃
Victor reached over and turned off the recorder。 〃That should do it。 Can I reach you at your office number during the day？〃
〃If I'm not there； my secretary can track me down。〃
〃Thank you for your help。〃
〃Nothing substantial； I'm afraid；〃 said Pitt。
〃We have to pull on every thread。 Lots of pressure with LeBaron being the bigshot that he was。 This has to be the weirdest case the department's ever encountered。〃
〃I don't envy you finding a solution。〃 Pitt glanced at his watch and rose from his chair。 〃I'd better get a move on for the airport。〃
Victor stood and reached across the desk to shake hands。 〃If you should dream up another plot line； Mr。 Pitt； please give me a call。 I'm always interested in a good fantasy。〃
Pitt paused in the doorway and turned； a foxlike expression on his face。 〃You want a lead； Lieutenant？ Run this one up the flagpole。 Airships need helium for their lift。 An old antique like the Prosperteer must have required a couple hundred thousand cubic feet of gas to get her in the air。 After a week； enough would have leaked out to keep her grounded。 Do you follow？〃
〃Depends on where you're heading。〃
〃There is no way the blimp could have materialized off Miami unless an experienced crew with the necessary supplies reinflated the hull forty…eight hours before。〃
Victor had the look of a man about to be baptized。 〃What are you suggesting？〃
〃That you look for a friendly neighborhood service station that can pump two hundred thousand cubic feet of helium。〃
Then Pitt turned into the hallway and was gone。
〃I hate boats；〃 Rooney grumbled。 〃I can't swim； can't float； and get seasick looking through the window of a washing machine。〃
Sheriff Sweat handed him a double martini。 〃Here； this will cure your hangups。〃
Rooney ruefully eyed the waters of the bay and drained half his drink。 〃You're not going out in the ocean； I hope。〃
〃No； just a leisurely cruise around the bay。〃 Sweat ducked into the forward cabin of his gleaming white fishing boat and turned over the engine。 The single 260…horsepower turbocharged diesel knocked into life。 Exhaust rumbled from the stern and the deck throbbed beneath their feet。 Then Sweat cast off the lines and eased the boat away from the dock； threading through a maze of moored yachts to Biscayne Bay。
By the time the bow skipped past the channel buoys； Rooney was looking for a second drink。 〃Where do you keep the courage？〃
〃Down in the forward cabin。 Help yourself。 There's ice in the brass diver's helmet。〃
When Rooney resurfaced he asked； 〃What's this all about； Tyler？ This is Sunday。 You didn't drag me away from my season box in the middle of a good football game to show me Miami Beach from the water。〃
〃Truth is； I heard you finished your report on the bodies from the blimp last night。〃
〃Three o'clock this morning； to be exact。〃
〃I thought you might want to tell me something。〃
〃For God's sake； Tyler； what's so damned earthshaking that you couldn't have waited until tomorrow morning？〃
〃About an hour ago； I got a call from some Fed in Washington。〃 Sweat paused to ease the throttle up a notch。 〃Said he was with a domestic intelligence agency I'd never heard of。 I won't bore you with his downright belligerent talk。 Never can understand why everybody up North thinks they can blindside a Southern boy。 The upshot was he demanded we turn over the dead from the blimp to federal authorities。〃
〃Which federal authorities？〃
〃Refused to name them。 Got vague as hell when I pushed。〃
Rooney was suddenly intensely interested。 〃He give any hint why they wanted the bodies？〃
〃Claimed it was a security matter。〃
〃You told him no； of course。〃
〃I told him I'd think about it。〃
The turn of events and the gin bined to make Rooney forget his fear of water。 He began to notice the trim lines of the fiberglass craft。 It was Sheriff Sweat's second office； occasionally pressed into service as a backup police cruiser； but more often used to entertain county and state officials on weekend fishing trips。
〃What do you call her？〃 Rooney asked。
〃Call who？〃
〃The boat。〃
〃Oh； the Southern fort。 She's a thirty…five…footer； cruises at fifteen knots。 Built in Australia by an outfit called Stebercraft。〃
〃To get back to the LeBaron case；〃 Rooney said； sipping at his martini； 〃are you going to give in？〃
〃I'm tempted；〃 said Sweat； smiling。 〃Homicide has yet to turn up lead one。 The news media are making a circus out of it。 Everybody from the governor on down is pressuring my ass。 And to top； it off； there's every likelihood the crime wasn't mitted in my jurisdiction。 Hell； yes； I'm tempted to pass the buck to Washington。 Only I'm just stubborn enough to think we might pull a solution out of this mess。〃
〃All right； what do you want from me？〃
The sheriff turned from the helm and looked at him steadily。 〃I want you to tell me what's in your report。〃
〃My findings made the puzzle worse。〃
A small sailboat with four teenagers slipped acr