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The Doomsday Conspiracy :: Sheldon Sidney
Страница: 191 из 213Or was it just his nerves?
She looked absolutely beautiful, andsomehow, he was disappointed. What the hell had I expected? That she would look pale and miserable?
He turned to Monte. “I want you to know how much I appreciate this.”
Monte shrugged. “Glad to help you out.”
The man was a saint.
“What’s your plan?”
“I’d like you to turn and head due west to Marseilles. You can drop me off the coast and …”
A man in a crisp white uniform approached. He was in his fifties, heavyset, with a neatly trimmed beard.
“This is Captain Simpson. This is …” Monte Banks looked at Robert for help.
“Smith. Tom Smith.”
Monte said, “We’ll be heading for Marseilles, Captain.”
“We’re not going into Elba?”
“No.”
Captain Simpson said, “Very well.” He sounded surprised.
Robert scanned the horizon. All clear.
“I’d suggest we go below,” Monte Banks said.
When the three of them were seated in the saloon, Monte asked, “Don’t you think you owe us an explanation?”
“Yes, I do,” Robert said, “but I’m not going to give you one. The less you know about this whole affair the better. I can only tell you that I’m innocent. I’m involved in a political situation. I know too much, and I’m being hunted. If they find me, they’ll kill me.”
Susan and Monte exchanged a look.
“They have no reason to connect me with the Halcyon,” Robert went on. “Believe me, Monte, if there were any other way for me to escape, I would have taken it.”
Robert thought of all the people who had been killed because he had tracked them down. He could not bear to have anything happen to Susan. He tried to keep his voice light. “I would appreciate it for your own sakes, if you didn’t mention that I was ever aboard this ship.”
“Of course not,” Monte said.
The yacht had slowly swung around and was heading west.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to have a word with the captain.”
Dinner was an awkward affair. There were strange undercurrents that Robert did not understand, a tension that was almost tangible. Was it because of his presence? Or was it something else? Something between the two of them? The sooner I get away from here, the better, Robert thought.
They were in the saloon having an after-dinner drink when Captain Simpson came into the room.
“When will we reach Marseilles?” Robert asked.
“If the weather holds, we should be there tomorrow afternoon, Mr Smith.
She looked absolutely beautiful, andsomehow, he was disappointed. What the hell had I expected? That she would look pale and miserable?
He turned to Monte. “I want you to know how much I appreciate this.”
Monte shrugged. “Glad to help you out.”
The man was a saint.
“What’s your plan?”
“I’d like you to turn and head due west to Marseilles. You can drop me off the coast and …”
A man in a crisp white uniform approached. He was in his fifties, heavyset, with a neatly trimmed beard.
“This is Captain Simpson. This is …” Monte Banks looked at Robert for help.
“Smith. Tom Smith.”
Monte said, “We’ll be heading for Marseilles, Captain.”
“We’re not going into Elba?”
“No.”
Captain Simpson said, “Very well.” He sounded surprised.
Robert scanned the horizon. All clear.
“I’d suggest we go below,” Monte Banks said.
When the three of them were seated in the saloon, Monte asked, “Don’t you think you owe us an explanation?”
“Yes, I do,” Robert said, “but I’m not going to give you one. The less you know about this whole affair the better. I can only tell you that I’m innocent. I’m involved in a political situation. I know too much, and I’m being hunted. If they find me, they’ll kill me.”
Susan and Monte exchanged a look.
“They have no reason to connect me with the Halcyon,” Robert went on. “Believe me, Monte, if there were any other way for me to escape, I would have taken it.”
Robert thought of all the people who had been killed because he had tracked them down. He could not bear to have anything happen to Susan. He tried to keep his voice light. “I would appreciate it for your own sakes, if you didn’t mention that I was ever aboard this ship.”
“Of course not,” Monte said.
The yacht had slowly swung around and was heading west.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to have a word with the captain.”
Dinner was an awkward affair. There were strange undercurrents that Robert did not understand, a tension that was almost tangible. Was it because of his presence? Or was it something else? Something between the two of them? The sooner I get away from here, the better, Robert thought.
They were in the saloon having an after-dinner drink when Captain Simpson came into the room.
“When will we reach Marseilles?” Robert asked.
“If the weather holds, we should be there tomorrow afternoon, Mr Smith.