|
25.
After dropping Jack off at his car, and kissing him goodbye, Linsey took the Coronado Bay Bridge back into San Diego. One minute the downtown cityscape lay just across the harbor, less than a mile away, almost capable of being touched while sails glided over still waters. The next minute she was hundreds of feet in the air, looking down on the 32nd Street Naval Station shipyard below on her right, including the dark lozenge that was Lima Voyager, and on her left North Island and downtown, with a hazy Cabrillo Point in the distance. Inland, the Laguna Mountains loomed like dark gray shadows in distant sunshine.
Linsey drove down onto I-5 going north and exited at 6th Avenue, from where she drove down into the center of the city. On Broadway, she entered the parking garage of her agency's building. Within minutes, she was in Louise Trost's office, spilling her guts.
Louise took it all in stride. "Child, I'm not exactly happy to hear you violated some rules, but I'm far more disturbed by this bracket fungus thing. No sign of the harbor pilot?"
"AWOL," Linsey said. "I called his department earlier, and they had not heard from him. Something has happened to him."
"You think the City of Coronado should open a criminal investigation?"'
Linsey bit her lip and couldn't say. "I'm not sure. The only possible sign of struggle was a chair on its side, but that's hardly reason to declare a crime scene. No body, no motive, nothing—there is no case. He hasn't been declared missing." She shook her head. "I backed out of there, knowing it was a dumb idea to go in in the first place. I do highly recommend surveillance."
"For what?"
"Oh come on, Louise, I found another one of those fungus things. What more do you need to hear? Until we know better, we should keep the possibility of a terrorism link open. Whatever is causing this, it's connected to the Lima Voyager somehow, and her whole missing crew."
"Nobody has yet filed missing persons charges on a single missing crew member," Louise said.
"Right." Linsey pondered. "Okay, I want to know more about the ship. Who owns it. Who paid for the last cargo. What was the last cargo?"
"Okay," Louise said, "Good instincts. I'll talk to the police chief in Coronado. Meanwhile, I have something else for you. Look at this." She slid a handful of papers across her desk.
Linsey glanced through what appeared to be County Medical Examiner reports and Fire Department reports. "Let me make sure I get this," Linsey said. "There is now an investigation by the San Diego Fire Department because of the reports a couple of days ago of planes crop dusting in Mission Valley."
"Yes," Louise said. "It's a possible terrorism issue, and I have Feds coming in from Fort Detrick and the National Centers for Disease Control. So far, I've kept it out of the news, but who knows how long before the Fourth Estate picks up on this."
"They had the story and dropped it," Linsey said. "The story of the yellow toxin and the crop dusting planes got on TV and then vanished from public notice."
"The media are hopeless," Louise said. "They are the thin membrane of information that separates us from absolute tyranny, but they've done a lousy job in recent years of conveying the truth to the average person. Sensationalism is what they feed on, and I'm afraid there will be a feeding frenzy once this whole thing breaks open."
"So where are we?"
Louise said: "Had three fellows doing some roofing in Serra Mesa the other day, and they got bombed with that yellow rain stuff. One of them got some into his digestive system, and just died a few hours ago. The M.E. report concludes that it's the same strain of fungus that the HazMat people collected the afternoon three planes were seen cropdusting Mission Valley."
"I think I know what I need to do next," Linsey said. "I need your blessing as Federal umbrella lady, so that I can cross jurisdictions. I want to start tracking down those three planes. Who flew them, where did they take off from, where did they land, and above all—why? Why any of this?"
"Good idea," Louise said. "I'm making you the principal investigator. Next bit of information: We've checked every airport in the region, and not a single one has a record of the three planes in question. They came from nowhere, did their thing, and vanished into thin air."
Linsey scratched her head. "Did you say there were roofers? Maybe I can start by interviewing them."
"That, and track down the information on the Lima Voyager. You're suddenly a very busy woman. Want an assistant?"
"How about my old friend and partner Cleve Bartlett?"
"I'll see if the Harbor Police can free him up." Louise winked. "You could deputize your husband."
"Jack? He'd be after a story the whole time, and showing up with an arsenal at the wrong moment. I prefer keeping my love life out of harm's way."
Both women laughed.
|
