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Eric peered at Perlmutter as he processed the paragraph. “Didn’t The Wizard of Oz come out long after this in 1939?”
“The film did,” Perlmutter replied. “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum was published in 1900 as a children’s book. It’s quite likely that foreign immigrants would have used the book to learn our language.”
“But he said, ‘I found Oz,’ as though he’d actually been there,” Juan said.
“Delusional perhaps? A hallucination in his final death throes?”
“Kensit seemed to think it was important. And the book references the diary that he inherited, so it definitely exists.”
“And Lutzen was a physicist,” Eric chimed in, “same as Kensit. But without knowing about the specific research Lutzen was conducting, we have no idea why Kensit would fake his own death to pursue it a hundred years later.”
Nothing about this was adding up for Juan. “What kind of evidence would Lutzen have been searching for? Why would a physicist be scouring the Caribbean for his research?”
“Your answer may lie inside the Roraima,” Perlmutter said. “Lutzen was an avid photographer.”
Eric shook his head. “That film has been bathing in warm salt water for over a hundred years. It’s probably mush by now.”
“Not necessarily,” Perlmutter said. “It’s possible that the glass plate negatives, which he would have used at that time, are still intact if the seals on the container haven’t been compromised. Frank Hurley, the photographer on the Shackleton expedition, saved photos that had been submerged in seawater because they had been stored in zinc-lined cases that had been soldered shut. If Dr. Lutzen was similarly prudent, the photos might have survived.”
“If they’re still there at all,” Juan said. “Martinique isn’t exactly off the beaten path. Divers have been picking over those Saint-Pierre wrecks for decades.”
“Maybe not so thoroughly as you think. The Roraima sits in one hundred and fifty feet of water, below the level of most recreational scuba divers. Bottom times will be limited for all but the most technically adept divers, and few will have fully explored the interior, which is dangerous because of the rusting hull.”
“It’ll take a while to search the ship since we don’t know where his cabin was,” Eric said.
Perlmutter gave him a crafty grin. “I believe I can help you out there as well.” He darted out of the room and came back with a roll of paper that he spread on the table. It was the deck plan for the Roraima.
“Okay, I’m convinced,” Eric said. “No computer needed here.”
Although he couldn’t know which particular cabin Lutzen had occupied, Perlmutter pointed out where the passenger staterooms were located, considerably narrowing the search grid.
“May I take a photo of this?” Eric asked.
“By all means,” Perlmutter said, waving at the plans. “And when I finally get a chance to see that fantastic ship of yours, I expect a guided tour from you.”
“Absolutely.”
When Eric was finished with the snapshots, Perlmutter ushered them to the door. “Do come back someday. And let me know if you find Oz as well.”
“I just hope we don’t run into any flying monkeys,” Juan said with a wink.
“Me neither,” Eric agreed. “They always freaked me out.” When he saw the looks from the other two men, he quickly added, “Back when I was a kid. Not now.”
Perlmutter bellowed a hearty laugh, and after Eric gave Fritz one last scratch, he closed the door behind them.
No sooner were they on the road than Langston Overholt called back.
“Juan, we’ve found the translation firm. Global Translation Services.”
“That was fast.”
“They remembered it because it was such an odd job. Kensit had the translator transcribe the notes by hand so there wouldn’t be a digital record.”
“I’d like to speak to the translator.”
“That’s going to be a problem,” Overholt said ominously.
“Why?”
