AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Pitt nodded and continued. "It's not logical a Charleston boilermaker would ship across the country to Oregon with a Savannah shipyard only ninety miles away."
"Not logical at all," Perhnutter agreed.
"What else do you have on the Pilottown?"
Perlmutter read on. "Hull number 793, also classed as a cargo carrier. Sold after the war to the Kassandra Phosphate Company Limited of Athens. Greek registry. Ran aground with a cargo of phosphates off Jamaica, June of 1954. Refloated four months later.
Sold 1962 to the Sosan Trading Company-"
"Inchon, Korea," Pitt finished. "Our first connection."
Loren returned with a tray of small cups and passed the espresso coffee around the table.
> "This is indeed a treat," said Perlmutter gallantly. "I've never been waited on by a member of Congress before."
"I hope I didn't make it too strong," Loren said, testing the brew and making a face.
"A little mud on the bottom sharpens a woolly mind," Perlmutter reassured her philosophically.
"Getting back to the Pilottown," Pitt said. "What happened to her after 1962?"
"No other entry is shown until 1979, when she's listed as sunk during a storm in the northern Pacific with all hands. After that she became something of a cause celebrity by reappearing on a number of occasions along the Alaskan coast."
"Then she went missing in the same area of the sea as the San Marino," said Pitt thoughtfully. "Another possible tie-in."
"You're grabbing at bubbles," said Loren. "I can't see where any of this is taking you."
"I'm with her." Perhnutter nodded. "There's no concrete pattern."
"I think there is," Pitt said confinently. "What began as a cheap insurance fraud is unraveling into a cover-up of far greater proportions."
"Why your interest in this?" Perlmutter asked, staring Pitt in the eyes.
Pitts gaze was distant. "I can't tell you."
"A classified government investigation maybe?"
"I'm on my own in this one, but it's related to a 'most secret' project."
Perlmutter gave in good-naturedly. "Okay, old friend, -no more prying questions." He helped himself to another dumpling. "If you suspect the ship buried under the volcano is the San Marino and not the Pilottown, where do you go from here?"
"Inchon, Korea. The Sosan Trading Company might hold the key."
"Don't waste your time. The trading company is most certainly a false front, a name on a registry certificate. As is the case with most shipping companies, all trace of ownership ends at an obscure post office box. If I were you, I'd give it up as a lost cause."
"You'd never make a football coach," Pitt said with a laugh.
"Your half-time locker-room speech would discourage your team into throwing away a twenty-point lead."
"Another glass of schnapps, if you please?" said Perlmutter in a grumbling tone, holding out his glass as Pitt poured. "Tell you what I'll do. Two of my corresponding friends on nautical research are Koreans. I'll have them check out Sosan Trading for you."
"And the Pusan shipyards for any records covering the scrapping of the Belle Chasse."
"All right, I'll throw that in too."
"I'm grateful for your help."
"No guarantees."
