18

The hospital room was very white, and it smelled clean and antiseptic. Zach sat up in bed with his bandaged shoulder, and Lieutenant Whitson of Axel Center stood beside him and said, “You’re a hero, Blake, and I hate to tell a hero it was all for nothing. But you could have saved yourself a bullet wound. We’d have cracked this without you.”

“How?”

“We picked up the Indian this morning. In the woods off one of the pounds. He gave us all we needed.”

“What’d he tell you?”

“He was their sailor, the only one other than Barton who could handle a boat. He’s a swordfisherman and who suspects the comings and goings of a swordfisherman? What swordfisherman ever had to pass customs inspection? He was an ideal man for them. A good sailor who never roused any suspicion. They were going to send him out alone this year. That’s why he was in possession of the forty-five grand.”

“What happened?”

“They killed his wife. As simple as that. They killed the person he loved. He’d already been a witness to one murder last year, but this was something different.”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t want any part of their operation any more. So he ran. But he knew he wouldn’t be safe if he took their money with him. He left it for them, and sent them a note telling them where to find it. Apparently, you intercepted it. Why didn’t you turn it over to me, Blake?”

“I was pretty much involved. I … I was afraid for my daughter.”

Whitson nodded. “We’d have learned that, too, if you hadn’t shaken my men in Providence.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“You didn’t have to. The damn Providence traffic took care of that.”

“What about Carpenter? Did the Indian tell you about him?”

Whitson smiled. “There is no Carpenter. Carpenter is Barton and Barton is Carpenter. We picked him up right after the regatta. He came in second, he thinks.”

“What do you mean?”

“He really came in last. He’s the brains behind this whole thing, you know. Had this operation going on the Vineyard and similar ones wherever the hell there was a regatta. The regattas gave him a legitimate reason for being wherever his shipment was coming in. There’s always a boat race somewhere, and there’s always a ship coming in from someplace. He didn’t even need exact timing. His damn races could be as much as a month before or after the shipment. It didn’t matter. They provided the excuse for him to be near water, near the white gold that was coming in from all over the world.”

“A shrewd cookie,” Zach said.

“But not shrewd enough. He claims he’s not involved in this at all. Wait until he sees the comparison tests we ran on his hair and the hair we found in Evelyn Cloud’s fist.”

“If you can get my clothes from the nurse,” Zach said. “You’ll find a regatta medallion in one of the pockets. I found it at the Cloud house. I imagine it’s Barton’s.”

“Withholding evidence, huh, Blake?”

“There’s also a kid named Roger who—”

“Roger’s an old friend of ours. We’ve already got him behind bars.”

Zach shrugged. His shoulder ached when he moved. “Then it’s finished,” he said. “It’s all over.”

“Except a thank-you to an honest sailor named Ahab who sure as hell knows how to swing a belaying pin. You might look him up when you get out of here.”

“I will.”

“Also, there are two young ladies waiting outside to see you. They’re both blond, and they look sort of alike.”

“One is my daughter,” Zach said.

“And the other?”

“I hope she’ll be my wife.”

Whitson grinned. “In that case, I’ll get the hell out of here.” He stopped at the door. “Come back again, Blake. Maybe for your honeymoon, huh?”

He went out, and Zach leaned back against the pillows, grinning. Once upon a time, he thought, in the family called Blake, there was Penny and Enid and Zach.…

The door opened. Penny and Enid came into the room. And for the life of him, he didn’t know which one to kiss first.