Part 6 (1/2)

”The ocean covers two-thirds of the planet,” Palermo said unexpectedly. ”Can you imagine all the stuff that has ended up on the bottom in the last three or four thousand years? Five percent of all the s.h.i.+ps that ever sailed... I'm telling you. At least five percent is under water. The most extraordinary museum in the world. Ambition, tragedy, memory, riches, death__ Objects that are worth lots of money if we can bring them to the surface, but also... Understand? Solitude. Silence. Only a person who's felt a s.h.i.+ver of terror when he sees the dark silhouette of a sunken hull... I'm talking about that green murkiness below, if you know what I mean.... You know what I mean?”

The green eye and the brown one were fixed on Coy, lit by a sudden gleam that seemed feverish, or dangerous, and maybe both at once.

”I know what you mean.”

Nino Palermo favored Coy with a vague smile of appreciation. He had spent his life, he said, getting into the water, first for others and then for himself. He had inspected coral-encrusted wrecks in the Red Sea, he'd discovered a cargo of Byzantine gla.s.s off Rhodes, he'd searched for gold sovereigns on the Carnatic, Carnatic, and off Ireland brought up two hundred doubloons, three gold chains, and a crucifix of precious stones from the galleon and off Ireland brought up two hundred doubloons, three gold chains, and a crucifix of precious stones from the galleon Gerona. Gerona. He had worked with the salvage team that recovered mercury from the He had worked with the salvage team that recovered mercury from the Guadalupe Guadalupe and the and the Tolosa, Tolosa, and with Mel Fisher on the and with Mel Fisher on the Atocha. Atocha. But he had also dived amid the ghostly s.h.i.+ps of a sunken fleet at two hundred sixty feet in Martinique, near Mount Pelee, dived to the hull of the But he had also dived amid the ghostly s.h.i.+ps of a sunken fleet at two hundred sixty feet in Martinique, near Mount Pelee, dived to the hull of the Yongala Yongala in the Sea of the Serpents, and of the in the Sea of the Serpents, and of the Andrea Doria Andrea Doria in the watery tomb of the Atlantic. He had seen the Royal in the watery tomb of the Atlantic. He had seen the Royal Oak Oak belly up at the bottom of Scapa Flow and the propeller of the corsair belly up at the bottom of Scapa Flow and the propeller of the corsair Emden Emden on Los Cocos atoll. And at sixty-five feet, in a phantasmal gold and blue light, the collapsed skeleton of a German pilot in the cabin of his Focke-Wulf, downed over Nice. on Los Cocos atoll. And at sixty-five feet, in a phantasmal gold and blue light, the collapsed skeleton of a German pilot in the cabin of his Focke-Wulf, downed over Nice.

”You won't deny,” he said, ”that's some resume.”

He paused and, signaling the waiter, ordered another whisky for himself and a new tonic for Coy, who still hadn't touched the first. Lukewarm by now, Palermo said. Underwater searches were his life and his pa.s.sion, he continued, staring at Coy as if he defied him to prove the contrary. But not all wrecks were important, he explained. Greek divers were already recovering treasure in ancient times. Which was why the best s.h.i.+pwrecks were ones with no survivors, because for lack of information about where they went down, they remained hidden and intact Now Palermo had found a new lead. A good and beautiful and virgin lead in an old book. A new mystery, or challenge, and the possibility of looking for an answer.

”Then”-he raised his gla.s.s as if he were looking for someone whose face he could dash it in-”I made the mistake of... You know what I mean? The mistake of going to that b.i.t.c.h.”

Fifteen minutes later the second tonic was untouched, as lukewarm as the first. As for Coy, the vapors of the Centenario Terry had dissipated a little more and he was getting the drift of the other side of the drama. Or at least the version held by Nino Palermo, a British subject residing in Gibraltar, owner of Deadman's Chest: Undersea Exploration and Maritime Salvage.

Six months earlier, Palermo had gone to the Museo Naval in Madrid, as he had other times, looking for information. He hoped to confirm that a brigantine that had sailed from Havana and disappeared before reaching its destination had sunk somewhere near the Spanish coast. The s.h.i.+p was not carrying cargo known to be valuable, but there were interesting hints: the name, Dei Gloria, Dei Gloria, for example, was in one of the letters seized when the Society was broken up during the reign of Charles III, which Palermo had found mentioned in the San Fernando librarians book on the s.h.i.+ps and maritime activity of the Jesuits. The quote, ”but the justice of G.o.d did not allow the for example, was in one of the letters seized when the Society was broken up during the reign of Charles III, which Palermo had found mentioned in the San Fernando librarians book on the s.h.i.+ps and maritime activity of the Jesuits. The quote, ”but the justice of G.o.d did not allow the Dei Gloria Dei Gloria to reach her destination with the people and secret she was carrying,” was cross-checked by him with catalogues of doc.u.ments in the Archivo de Indias in Seville, in Viso del to reach her destination with the people and secret she was carrying,” was cross-checked by him with catalogues of doc.u.ments in the Archivo de Indias in Seville, in Viso del Marques, and the Museo Naval in Madrid____ Bingo! In the catalogue of the museum's library he found a report dated February, 1767, in Cartagena, ”on the loss of the brigantine Dei Gloria Dei Gloria in an encounter with the xebec corsair presumed to be the in an encounter with the xebec corsair presumed to be the Chergui” Chergui” That had led him to get in touch with the Museo Naval, and with Tanger Soto, who-curse the day and curse her and hers-was in charge of that department. After a first exploratory meeting, they had gone to That had led him to get in touch with the Museo Naval, and with Tanger Soto, who-curse the day and curse her and hers-was in charge of that department. After a first exploratory meeting, they had gone to have dinner at Al-Mounia, an Arab restaurant on calle Recoletos. There, over lamb couscous and vegetables, he had set out his case in a convincing manner. Not opening his heart to her, of course. He was a wise old dog and he knew the risks. He had mentioned the Dei Gloria Dei Gloria among other matters, just the slightest offhand allusion. And she, polite, efficient, a pleasant G.o.dd.a.m.n witch, had promised to help him. That's what she had said, help him. Look up a copy of the doc.u.ments for him if they were still in the papers entrusted to the inst.i.tution, et cetera, et cetera. I'll call you, the b.i.t.c.h had promised. Without blinking an eye, by G.o.d. Not one blink. That had been months ago, and not only had she not called, she had used the influence of the Navy to block any access to the museum's archives. Even to doc.u.ments pertinent to the cargo manifest of the brigan-tine in Havana, which he finally had located in the catalogue of the naval archives in Viso del Marques. He had not been able to consult them, however, because they were-he was told-under official examination by the Ministry of Defense. Palermo had kept moving ahead, of course. He knew the drill and he had money to spend. His parallel inquiry was progressing well, and now he was reasonably sure that the brigantine had sunk near Cartagena, and that it was carrying something-objects or people-of major importance. Perhaps the attack by the corsair among other matters, just the slightest offhand allusion. And she, polite, efficient, a pleasant G.o.dd.a.m.n witch, had promised to help him. That's what she had said, help him. Look up a copy of the doc.u.ments for him if they were still in the papers entrusted to the inst.i.tution, et cetera, et cetera. I'll call you, the b.i.t.c.h had promised. Without blinking an eye, by G.o.d. Not one blink. That had been months ago, and not only had she not called, she had used the influence of the Navy to block any access to the museum's archives. Even to doc.u.ments pertinent to the cargo manifest of the brigan-tine in Havana, which he finally had located in the catalogue of the naval archives in Viso del Marques. He had not been able to consult them, however, because they were-he was told-under official examination by the Ministry of Defense. Palermo had kept moving ahead, of course. He knew the drill and he had money to spend. His parallel inquiry was progressing well, and now he was reasonably sure that the brigantine had sunk near Cartagena, and that it was carrying something-objects or people-of major importance. Perhaps the attack by the corsair Chergui Chergui-an English Chergui Chergui with Algerian registry that had been lost in the same waters and same time frame-was not entirely coincidental. Palermo had tried many times to talk with Tanger Soto, to ask for explanations. To no avail. Total silence. She was very clever about ducking the issue, or she had luck, as she had in Barcelona when Coy walked up to them. By G.o.d, she had luck. In the end, Palermo had realized, idiot that he was, that she had not only played him along, but had been moving her own pieces on the sly. Suspicion became certainty when he saw her at the auction, bidding for the Urrutia. with Algerian registry that had been lost in the same waters and same time frame-was not entirely coincidental. Palermo had tried many times to talk with Tanger Soto, to ask for explanations. To no avail. Total silence. She was very clever about ducking the issue, or she had luck, as she had in Barcelona when Coy walked up to them. By G.o.d, she had luck. In the end, Palermo had realized, idiot that he was, that she had not only played him along, but had been moving her own pieces on the sly. Suspicion became certainty when he saw her at the auction, bidding for the Urrutia.

”Little Miss Innocence,” Palermo concluded, ”had decided... G.o.d almighty. You get it? The Dei Gloria Dei Gloria was hers.” was hers.”

Coy shook his head, although in truth he was digesting what he had just heard.

'As far as I know,” he interjected, ”she works for the Museo Naval.”

Palermo's laugh was a snort.

”That's what I thought. But now... She's one of those women who can take a big chunk out of you without ever opening her mouth.”

Coy touched his nose, still confused.

”In that case,” he said, ”get in touch with her superiors and blow the lid off her operation.”

Palermo rattled the ice in his new whiskey.

”That would blow the lid off mine as well______ I'm not that stupid.”

Again he smiled that quick smile that exposed a couple of teeth. This guy, Coy thought, smiles like a shark sighting a tasty squid.

”It's like a cross-country race, you know?” added Palermo. ”I have better... G.o.d almighty. She gained the advantage because of my carelessness. But that kind of effort... I've gained ground. I'll gain more.”

”Well, I wish you luck,” Coy said.

”Some of that luck depends on you. I just have to look a man in the eye once to know....” Palermo winked the brown eye. ”You get what I mean, no?”

”Wrong. I don't get what you mean.”

”To know what it takes to buy him.”

Coy didn't like the look he was getting. Or maybe he was annoyed by the intimate, complicitous tone of Palermo's last words. ”I'm out of it,” he said coldly. ”You don't say.”

The bantering tone did not improve matters. Coy felt his antipathy revive.

”Well, mat's how it is. You'll have to deal with her.” Coy tried to twist his lips into the most insolent sneer possible. ”You two haven't tried to join forces? Apparently you're from the same litter.”

Palermo did not seem the least offended. Instead, he was considering the idea with total calm.

”That's a possibility,” he replied. ”Though I doubt that she... She thinks she holds all the aces.”

”She just lost a couple. Well, at least one joker.”

Again, the shark smile. Now flavored with hope, which did not make it any more pleasant.

'Are you serious?” Palermo reflected, interested. ”I mean about not working for her anymore.”

”Of course I'm serious.”

”Would it be indiscreet to ask why?”

”You said it a minute ago; she doesn't play fair. More or less like you___ ” Suddenly he remembered something. ”And you can tell your melancholy dwarf he can relax. Now I won't have to beat him to a pulp if I run into him.”

Palermo, about to take a sip of his drink, stopped, looking at Coy over the rim of the gla.s.s.

”What dwarf?”

”Don't you be clever, too. You know who I'm talking about.”

The gla.s.s was still poised; the bicolor eyes narrowed, astute.

”Don't get the wrong...” Palermo started to say something, but thought better of it and stopped, using the pretext of taking a sip. As he put the drink on the table, he changed the subject.

”I can't believe you're leaving her, just like that.”

Now it was Coy's turn to smile. Of course I couldn't smile like this p.r.i.c.k even if I tried, he thought He felt swindled by everyone, including himself.

”I don't completely believe it myself,” he said.

'Are you going back to Barcelona? What about your problem?”

”How about that.” Coy shook his head, annoyed. ”I see that now you're interested in my resume, too.”

Palermo raised his left hand, as if he'd been struck by an idea. He took a calling card from a thick billfold stuffed with credit cards, and wrote something on it. Lights from the window with the mannequins glinted off his rings. Coy glanced at the card before slipping it into his pocket: ”Nino Palermo. Deadman's Chest Ltd. 42b Main Street. Gibraltar.” Palermo had written the telephone number of a hotel in Madrid on the bottom.

”Maybe I can compensate you in some way.” Palermo paused, cleared his throat, took another swallow, and looked at Coy. ”I need someone close to this Senorita Soto.”

He left that sentence in the air. Coy sat quietly for a minute, observing Palermo. Then he leaned forward, placing his palms on the table.

”Shove it up your a.s.s.”