Flood Tide dp-14

by Clive Cussler

  AFTER HIS MEETING WITH DIRK AND JULIA, ST. JULIEN PERL-mutter rolled up his sleeves and went to work. Once he walked the trail leading to a lost ship, he became obsessed. No lead, no rumor, no matter how seemingly insignificant, was left unexplored. Though his diligence and persistence had paid off in ferreting out any number of answers and solutions that led searchers to successful shipwreck discoveries, he failed more often than he succeeded. Most ships that vanished into thin air left no thread to follow. They were simply swallowed up by the infinite sea that very rarely gave up her secrets.

  On the surface, the Princess Dou Wan looked to be simply another one of the many dead ends Perlmutter had experienced during his decades as a marine historian. He launched the search by scouring his own immense collection of sea lore before expanding into the many marine archives around the United States and the rest of the world.

  The more impossible the project, the more he tackled it with inflexible tenacity, laboring all hours of the day or night. He began by assembling every shred of known historical information concerning the Princess Dou Wan, from the time her keel was laid until she went missing. He obtained and studied plans and designs of her construction, including engine specifications, equipment, dimensions and deck plans. One particularly interesting bit of data he gleaned from the records was a description of her sailing qualities. She was revealed as a very stable ship, having survived the worst storms during her time in service that the seas around Asia could throw at her.

  A team of fellow researchers was hired to dig through archives in England and Southeast Asia. By using the expertise of other marine historians, he saved himself considerable time and expense.

  Perlmutter sorely wished he could consult his old friend and fellow marine historian Zhu Kwan in China, but it was his understanding that Pitt wanted no revelations making their way back to Qin Shang. He did, however, contact personal friends on Taiwan for leads to still living comrades of Chiang Kai-shek who might shed some light on the missing treasure trove.

  In the early hours of the morning, when most of the world was asleep, he stared into a computer monitor the size of a home-entertainment video screen and analyzed the data as it accumulated. He peered at one of the six known photographs of the Princess Dou Wan. She was a stately-looking ship, he thought. Her superstructure was set far aft of the bow and appeared small in relation to her hull. He studied the colored image of her, magnifying the white band in the center of the green funnel, focusing on the emblem of the Canton Lines, a golden lion with its left paw raised. Her maze of loading cranes suggested a ship that could carry a substantial cargo besides her passengers.

  He also found photos of her sister ship, the Princess Yitng Thi, which was launched and entered service the year after the Princess Dou Wan. According to the records the Princess Yung Thi was broken up six months before the Princess Dou Wan was scheduled to be scrapped.

  A tired old liner doomed for the scrappers at Singapore would not have made an ideal transport to move China's national treasures to a secret location, he thought. She was beyond her time and hardly in prime condition to weather heavy seas on an extended voyage across the Pacific. It also seemed to Perlmutter that Taiwan was the more sensible destination since it was where Chiang Kai-shek eventually set up the Chinese Nationalist government. It was not conceivable the last

  known report of the ship had come from a naval radio operator in Valparaiso, Chile. What possible purpose could the Princess Dou Wan have for being over six hundred miles south of the Tropic of Capricorn in an area of the Pacific Ocean far off the traditional shipping lanes?

  Even if the liner was on a clandestine mission to hide China's art treasures somewhere on the other side of the world in either Europe or Africa, why go across the vast, empty region of the South Pacific and through the Strait of Magellan when it was shorter to steer west across the Indian Ocean and around the Cape of Good Hope? Was secrecy so consuming that captain and crew could not risk going through the Panama Canal, or did Chiang Kai-shek have an unknown cavern or man-made structure hidden in the Andes to conceal the immense treasure, if indeed it could be proven the ship was carrying China's national historic wealth?

  Perlmutter was a pragmatic man. He took nothing for granted. He went back to square one and restudied the photos of the ship. As he examined her outline, a vague notion began to form in his mind. He called a nautical archivist friend in Panama, waking him from a sound sleep, and charmed him into going through the records of ships passing west to east through the Canal between November 28 and December 5, 1948.

  With that lead being pursued, he began reading through a list of names of the ship's officers last known to have sailed on the Princess. All were Chinese except for Captain Leigh Hunt and Chief Engineer lan Gallagher.

  He felt as if he was throwing chips on every number of a roulette table. What are the odds of losing? he mused. Thirty-six out of thirty-six? But then he had to consider the zero and double zero. Perlmutter was no old fool. He covered every bet, firmly believing that if only one number paid off, he'd win.

  He punched the buttons on his speakerphone and waited for a sleepy voice to answer. “Hello, this better be good.”

  “Hiram, it's St. Julien Perlmutter.”

  “Julien, why in God's name are you calling me at four in the morning?” Hiram Yaeger's voice sounded as if he was talking through a pillow.

  “I'm in the middle of a research project for Dirk, and I need your help.”

  Yaeger became marginally alert. “Anything for Dirk, but does it have to be four in the morning?”

  “The data is important, and we need it as quickly as possible.”

  “What do you want me to investigate?”

  Perlmutter sighed with relief, knowing from experience that the NUMA computer genius had never let anyone down. “Got a pencil and paper? I'm going to give you some names.”

  “Then what?” asked Yaeger, yawning.

  “I'd like you to hack your way through government census, IRS and Social Security records for a match. Also, check them out through your vast file of maritime records.”

  “You don't want much.”

  “And while you're at it...” said Perlmutter, forging onward.

  “Does it never end?”

  “I also have a ship for you to trace.”

  “So?”

  “If my intuition is working, I'd like you to find what port it arrived at between November twenty-eighth and December tenth, nineteen forty-eight.”

  “What's her name and owner?”

  “The Canton Lines' Princess Dou Wan,” he replied, spelling it out.

  “Okay, I'll start first thing after I arrive at NUMA headquarters.”

  “Leave for work now,” urged Perlmutter. “Time is vital.”

  “You sure you're doing this for Dirk?” demanded Yaeger.

  “Scout's honor.”

  “Can I ask what this is all about?”

  “You may,” replied Perlmutter, and then he hung up.

  Within minutes after he began his probe of Captain Leigh Hunt of the Princess Dou Wan, Yaeger found the old seaman mentioned in various references in maritime journals listing ships and their crews that sailed the China Sea between 1925 and 1945, in Royal Navy historical documents and old newspaper accounts describing the rescue of eighty passengers and crew from a sinking tramp steamer off the Philippines by a ship captained by Hunt in 1936. Hunt's final mention came from a Hong Kong maritime register, a short paragraph stating that the Princess Dou Wan had failed to arrive at the scrappers in Singapore. After 1948 it was as if Hunt had vanished from the face of the earth.

  Yaeger then concentrated on lan Gallagher, smiling when his search ran across remarks in an Australian marine engineer's journal telling of Gallagher's colorful testimony during an investigation into a shipwreck he had survived that had gone aground near Darwin. “Hong Kong” Gallagher, as he was referred to, had little good to say about his captain and fellow crewmen, blaming them for the disaster and claimin
g he had never seen any of them sober during the entire voyage. The final mention of the Irishman was a brief account of his service with Canton Lines, with a footnote on the disappearance of the Princess Dou Wan.

  Then, to cover all bases, Yaeger programmed his vast computer complex to conduct a search of all worldwide records pertaining to commercial engineering officers. This would take some time, so he wandered down to the NUMA building's cafeteria and had a light breakfast. Upon his return, he worked on two other marine geological projects for the agency before finally returning to see if anything turned up on his monitor.

  He stared fascinated at what he saw, not willing to accept it. For several seconds the information did not register in his brain. Now suddenly out of the blue he had a hard hit. He spread the search in several different directions. Several hours later, he finally sat back in his chair, shaking his head. Feeling supremely self-satisfied, he called Perlmutter.

  “St. Julien Perlmutter here,” came the familiar voice.

  “Hiram Yaeger here,” the computer genius mimicked.

  “Did you find anything of interest?”

  “Nothing you can use on Captain Hunt.”

  "What about his chief engineer?

  “Are you sitting down?”

  “Why?” Perlmutter asked cautiously.

  “Ian 'Hong Kong' Gallagher did not go down on the Princess Dou Wan.”

  “What are you saying?” demanded Perlmutter.

  “Ian Gallagher became a citizen of the United States in nineteen fifty.”

  “Not possible. It must be another lan Gallagher.”

  “It's a fact,” said Yaeger, enjoying his triumph. “As we speak, I'm looking at a copy of his engineering papers, which he renewed with the Maritime Administration of the U.S. Department of Transportation shortly after he became a citizen. He then hired on for the next twenty-seven years as chief engineer with the Ingram Line out of New York. He married one Katrina Garin in nineteen forty-nine and raised five kids.”

  “Is he still alive?” asked a dazed Perlmutter.

  “According to the records, he draws his pension and Social Security checks.”

  “Can it be he survived the sinking of the Princess?”

  “Providing Gallagher was on it when she went down,” replied Yaeger. “Do you still want me to see if the Princess Dou Wan arrived in an eastern seaboard port during the dates you gave me?”

  “By all means,” answered Perlmutter. “And scan the shipping-port arrival records for a ship called the Princess Yung Tai, also owned by the Canton Lines.”

  “You got something going?”

  “Crazy intuition,” replied Perlmutter. “Nothing more.”

  The border of the puzzle is in place, thought Perlmutter. Now he had to fit the inside pieces. Exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he allowed himself the extravagance of a short two-hour sleep. He awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. He allowed it to ring five times while his mind came back on track before answering.

  “St. Julien, Juan Mercado from Panama.”

  “Juan, thank you for calling. Did you turn up anything?”

  “Nothing, I'm afraid, on the Princess Dou Wan.”

  “I'm sorry to hear it. I'd hoped by chance she might have made passage through the canal.”

  “I did, however, find an interesting coincidence.”

  “Oh?”

  “A Canton Lines ship, the Princess Yung Tai, passed through on December first, nineteen forty-eight.”

  Perlmutter's fingers and hands tightened around the receiver. “What direction was her passage?”

  “West to east,” answered Mercado. “From the Pacific into the Caribbean.”

  Perlmutter said nothing, soaking up a wave of jubilation. Several pieces were still missing in the puzzle, but a visible pattern was slowly emerging. “I owe you a great debt, Juan. You've just made my day.”

  “Happy to have been of service,” said Mercado. “But do me a favor next time, will you?”

  “Anything.”

  “Call me during daylight hours. Any time my wife thinks I'm awake after we've gone to bed, she gets amorous.”

  WHEN PITT RETURNED TO HIS HANGAR IN WASHINGTON, HE was pleasantly surprised to find Julia waiting in his apartment above the car collection. After a hug and a kiss, she presented him with a margarita on the rocks made the right way—without the sweet mix and crushed ice popular in most restaurants.

  “You are so nice to come home to,” he said happily.

  “I couldn't think of a more comfortable and secure place to stay,” she said, smiling seductively. She was wearing a blue leather miniskirt with a tan nylon mesh one-shoulder top.

  “I can see why. The grounds outside are crawling with security guards.”

  “Courtesy of the INS.”

  “I hope they're more alert than the last group,” he said, sipping the margarita and giving an approving nod.

  “Did you fly in from Louisiana alone?”

  Pitt nodded. “Al is in a local hospital having a cast put on his broken leg. Admiral Sandecker and Rudi Gunn came in earlier to make a report directly to the President.”

  “Peter Harper filled me in about your heroics on the Mississippi. You prevented a national disaster and saved countless lives. The newspapers and TV news programs are filled with stories of terrorists blowing up the levee and the battle between the United States and the National Guard. The whole country was rocked by the event. Strangely, there was no mention of you or Al.”

  “Just the way we like it.” He raised his head and sniffed the air. “What's that appetizing aroma I smell?”

  “My Chinese dinner for the party tonight.”

  “What's the occasion?”

  “St. Julien Perlmutter called just before you returned and said he thinks he and Hiram Yaeger have the inside track on a solution to the disappearance of Qin Shang's treasure ship. He said he intensely dislikes meeting hi government buildings, so I invited him for dinner to hear his revelations. Peter Harper is coming, and I also sent invitations to Admiral Sandecker and Rudi Gunn. I hope they can find time to come.”

  “They're fans of St. Julien,” said Pitt, smiling. “They'll be here.”

  “They'd better, or you'll be eating leftovers for two weeks.”

  “I couldn't have had a nicer homecoming,” said Pitt, embracing Julia and squeezing the breath out of her.

  “Phew!” she said, wrinkling her nose. “When was the last time you bathed?”

  “It's been a few days. Except for diving in swamp water I haven't had the opportunity to jump in a shower since I last saw you on the Weehawken.”

  Julia rubbed the reddish blush on one of her cheeks. “Your beard is like sandpaper. Hurry and pretty up. Everyone will be showing up in another hour.”

  “Your presentation is magnificent,” said Perlmutter, eyeing the array of delectable dishes Julia had prepared buffet-style and set out on an antique credenza in Pitt's dining room.

  “It looks absolutely scrumptious,” said Sandecker.

  “I couldn't have described it better,” added Gunn.

  “My mother took special pains to teach me to cook, and my father was a lover of fine Chinese food prepared with a French influence,” said Julia, basking in the flattery. She had changed into a red Lycra jersey tube dress and looked stunning amid the room full of five men.

  “I hope you don't leave INS to open a restaurant,” joked Harper.

  “Not much chance of that. I have a sister who owns a restaurant in San Francisco, and it's a hard job with long hours in a small, hot kitchen. I'd rather have freedom of movement.” Helping themselves and gathering around a table built from a cabin roof off a nineteenth-century sailing ship, they dug into Julia's feast with great anticipation. She didn't disappoint them. The compliments flowed and bubbled like fine champagne.

  During dinner, the talk purposely skirted Perlmutter's findings and centered instead around the events on the Mystic Canal levee and the Army Corps efforts to repair the da
mage, All hated the idea of the United States being scrapped as she lay, and expressed the hope that necessary funding would be found to save and refit her, if not for voyaging then as a floating hotel and casino, as originally proposed. Harper filled them in on the indictments being handed down against Qin Shang. Despite his influence and the reluctance of the President and some congressmen, the charges of criminal conduct rolled over any opposition.

  For dessert, Julia served fried apples with syrup. After dinner was finished and Pitt had helped Julia clear the dishes and load them in the dishwasher, everyone settled in his living room filled with nautical antiques, maritime paintings and ship models. Sandecker lit up one of his big cigars without asking permission while Pitt poured them all a glass of forty-year-old port.

  “Well, St. Julien,” said Sandecker, “what is this great discovery Pitt tells me you made?”

  “I'm also interested in hearing how you think it concerns the INS,” Harper said to Pitt.

  Pitt held up his port and stared at the dark liquid as if it was a crystal ball. “If St. Julien puts us on the wreck of a ship called the Princess Dou Wan, it will alter the relationship between the U.S. and China for decades to come.”

  “Forgive me if I say that sounds wildly improbable,” said Harper.

  Pitt grinned. “Wait, and you shall see.” Perlmutter eased his bulk into a big chair and opened his briefcase, retrieving several files. “First, a little history to enlighten those of you who don't yet know exactly what it is we're talking about.” He paused to open the first file and pull out several papers. "Let me begin by saying that rumors concerning the passenger ship Princess Dou Wan as leaving

  Shanghai with a vast cargo of historical Chinese art treasures in November of nineteen-forty-eight are true."

  “What was your source?” asked Sandecker.

  "Name is Hui Wiay, a former Nationalist Army colonel who served under Chiang Kai-shek. Wiay now lives in Taipei. He fought the Communists until forced to flee to Taiwan when it was called Formosa. He's ninety-two years old but with a memory sharp as a razor. He vividly recalled following orders by Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek to empty the museums and palaces of every art treasure they could lay their hands on. Private collections belonging to the rich were also seized, along with any and all wealth found in bank vaults. All of it was packed in wooden crates and trucked to the Shanghai docks. There it was loaded on board an old passenger liner that was commandeered by one of Chiang Kai-shek's generals, whose name was Kung Hui. He seems to have dropped off the face of the earth the same time as the Princess Dou Wan, so there is every reason to believe he was on her.