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"Come to think of it, the Kearsarge was not the only vessel reported sunk by an undersea monster."
"The whaling ship Essex, out of Nantucket, was rammed and sunk by a whale," offered Pitt.
"That," said Perlmutter sternly, "was a real whale. I'm talking about another U.S. Navy ship, the Abraham Lincoln, which reported an encounter with an undersea craft that rammed and shattered her rudder."
"When did that occur?"
"1866."
"Twenty-eight years earlier."
Perlmutter contemplated his bottle of port, which was now two-thirds empty. "Over that time, many ships disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Most of them were British warships."
Pitt set his glass on the table but refused another when offered. "I can't believe a supernatural vessel decades ahead of its time 'was built by private individuals."
"The Hunley was built by private individuals who funded the project," lectured Perlmutter. "Actually, she was the third boat built by Horace Hunley and his engineers. Each more advanced than the previous."
"It seems a stretch to think that the mysterious monster wasn't designed and constructed by an industrial nation," said Pitt, still skeptical.
"Who's to say?" said Perlmutter, with an indifferent shrug. "Perhaps Jules Verne heard of such a vessel and created Captain Nemo and his Nautilus around it."
"It's odd that such a vessel, if it truly existed, could cruise the world for almost thirty years without its being seen more often, or one of its crew deserting ashore and telling the story. And if it sailed around ramming and sinking ships, how come there were not more survivors to report the incidents?"
"I can't say," said Perlmutter slowly. "I only know what I find in recorded sea history. Which isn't to say there are not more reports, untapped by researchers, in archives scattere
d around the world."
"What about Verne?" Pitt inquired. "There must be a museum, a home or relatives that collected all his papers, research records and letters."
"There are. Verne scholars exist everywhere. But Dr. Paul Hereoux, president of the Society of Jules Verne in Amiens, France, which was Verne's home from 1872 until he died in 1905, is considered the most knowledgeable man on the author's life."
"Can we contact him?"
"Better yet," said Perlmutter, "in a few days, I plan to travel to Paris to dig through an archive for information on John Paul Jones's ship, the Bonhomme Richard. I'll run up to Amiens and talk with Dr. Hereoux."
"I couldn't ask for more," said Pitt, rising from his chair. "I have to run along and clean up. I'm having dinner with Al, Loren and Dr. Egan's daughter, Kelly."
"Tell them all I wish them a good life."
Before Pitt stepped through the front door, Perlmutter was opening another bottle of old port.
38
After he returned to his apartment above the hangar floor, Pitt made a call to Admiral Sandecker. Then he took a shower, shaved and changed into casual slacks and a knit shirt. At the sound of the Packard's horn, he slipped on a light fabric sport coat and exited the hangar. He slid into the leather seat on the passenger's side and nodded a greeting at Giordino, who was wearing a similar outfit, except that his coat was slung over the seat due to the warm evening temperature and ninety-five percent Washington humidity.
"All set?" Giordino asked.
Pitt nodded. "The admiral has arranged a little party, should we have a problem."
"You armed?"
Pitt pulled aside his jacket to reveal his old Colt in a shoulder holster. "And you?"
Giordino twisted in the seat to expose a Ruger double-action P94, 40-caliber automatic slung under one arm. "Let's hope we're being overcautious."
Giordino said no more and depressed the clutch, shifted the long curved stick with its onyx knob into first gear and slowly released the clutch as he stepped on the accelerator pedal. The big Packard town car rolled smoothly onto the road toward the airport gate.
A few minutes later, Giordino eased the car to a stop in front of Loren's town house in Alexandria. Pitt stepped up to the front door and rang the chimes. Two minutes later, the women arrived at the entrance. Loren, stunning in a cotton mock turtleneck with side slits and a straight-falling skirt that stopped just above the ankles, looked cool and radiant. Kelly wore an embroidered jacket dress of soft rayon georgette with ruffle trim that gave her a feminine edge.
