'Could be.'

  He paused for a second, as he deliberated the best way of checking her out. It was one thing for her to say she loved him. After all, she thought he was a regular guy, or as regular as you could be when you also happened to be a millionaire. It would be quite another thing for her to say that she was willing to hook up with a thief. And not just any thief. A very uncommon thief.

  'Together, you and I, we could make some real money.'

  'Yeah?'

  'Wouldn't you like to make some real money?'

  'That all depends on what I'd have to do to get it. I don't see the two of us winning a mixed doubles at Forest Hills.'

  'What if I told you I was about to play a game of cards with four aces in my hand?'

  'I'd ask if this hand was on the table or up your sleeve?'

  Dave was silent.

  'Uh-oh,' said Kate. 'Sounds like there's a racket involved after all. I don't know, Van. I'd say Monte Carlo's a pretty neat place to go with four aces.'

  'What if I said it was five aces?'

  'They've got names for people like that, Van. Numbers too. And you have to watch your ass when you're taking a shower.' She grinned uncertainly. 'This is a joke, isn't it? You're not a gambler, are you?'

  'I was speaking metaphorically,' said Dave.

  'Oh I see. A metaphor. I'm glad. Here was me thinking maybe I'd met a cheat.'

  'But there are risks involved. And high stakes. For big rewards.'

  Kate kept on smiling. She felt if she stopped she might find it hard to start it up again. The conversation had gone in a completely unexpected direction. For a moment there she'd thought they were going to declare undying love and talk about getting married. But now she didn't know what to think. She said, 'Next thing you'll be telling me you're really some kind of high-class jewel thief now living quietly in a hilltop villa on the Cote d'Azur. Like Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief. Come on, Dave. What is this?'

  Dave considered the suggestion carefully for a second or two. Why not? Being a high-class jewel thief would do very nicely for the kind of litmus test he had in mind. After all, if she was prepared to take on a cat burglar then she ought to be prepared to take on a pirate, or whatever you wanted to call a guy who took down a score on board a ship.

  'I'm perfectly serious, Kate.'

  Still trying to keep her good humor, Kate's smile became a little strained. She said, 'To be quite frank with you? I've never seen myself in any of Grace Kelly's roles. For one thing, I'm a much better driver. For another? Well for another, does that film have a happy ending or not? I can't remember. And wasn't Cary Grant a reformed jewel thief trying to clear his name?' She stopped, exasperated, good humor disappearing now. 'Jesus, David, you don't do this kind of thing to a girl you've just fallen in love with. You know, when people get married and they say for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse? There's nothing about for right and for wrong.' Now she was feeling anxious. Like she'd won the lottery and couldn't find her ticket. 'It's not supposed to happen like this. Look, maybe you got the wrong idea about me. That Rita Hayworth, Gilda thing last night? It was just an act. I'm just a small-town girl. From T'ville, remember?'

  'What happened to the girl from the Space Coast?'

  'Houston, we've got a problem. I think the rocket just blew up on the launch pad.'

  Dave kissed her again, as if to reassure her. Then he said, 'Are you sure about that?'

  'No,' she said weakly, and kissed him back. 'But I've got a feeling I'm not going to land on the moon. My guidance systems have gone haywire.'

  'You just need some time to get them realigned, that's all. You can still complete your mission.'

  'If you say so.' Kate smiled wryly. 'Listen to me, Dave. Can we talk sensibly for a moment? This isn't a movie. This is real.'

  'What's real? Someone once said that we wouldn't know how to fall in love if we hadn't read about it first. Well, it's kind of the same with movies. Maybe even more so. Sometimes, when I look back on my life all that I can remember are the good movies and favorite TV shows. Most of the best times I've had have been in movie theaters. I think that's true of people everywhere, Kate. Some of our most extraordinary experiences are in the movies. Not watching them, you understand, because if it's a good movie, it's like you're part of it. Now that's what I call virtual reality, not some motorcycle helmet you have to stick on your head to see the hand in front of your face.' Dave shrugged. 'So, what's real? I don't know. What I am sure about is that things are only as ordinary as you want them to be. If you want your life to feel as exciting as a movie, then that's the way you've got to live it.'

  Kate laughed and kissed him quickly.

  'OK,' she said. 'What have been your most extraordinary experiences?'

  Dave thought for a second. Then he said, 'Walking into town with the Wild Bunch. Easy riding a motorcycle alongside Captain America. Running north by north-west from that crop-dusting airplane. Being seduced by Mrs Robinson. Escaping through Vienna's sewer system. Showing a clean pair of heels to a ten-ton rollerball in an Inca temple. Riding a chariot against Messala in the Circus at Antioch. Destroying the Death Star with my last missile. Playing chess with Death. Kissing Hedy Lamarr. Kissing Grace Kelly. Kissing you.'

  'You're right. You have had an interesting life.'

  'It's like I told you, Kate. Everyone has movie moments they remember. And this can be one of them. If you want it to be.'

  'You could be right,' said Kate. 'But like you also said, I need some more time to think about how I'm going to play this particular scene.'

  'Don't take too long about it,' urged Dave. 'In a few days we start shooting.'

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Guests arriving on board the Jade entered an atrium incorporating a life-size sculpture featuring a naked girl being penetrated from each end by two well-endowed men. The sculpture, which was also the logo of Jade Films, was executed in considerable anatomical detail; this, and the 'organic' staircase surrounding it, provided the yacht's focal point. Greeted by Rachel Dana and her crew in the spectacular reception area in front of this atrium, the guests were each handed a glass of Cristal and told that movies were on continuous show in the special theater that was to be found at the top of the curving mahogany staircase.

  As soon as Al saw the sculpture he felt sure this was a party he was going to enjoy. A wolfish grin spreading on his blunt features, he said to Dave, 'Will you take a look at that fuckin' artwork? Boy, I sure wish Tony was here to see this. He's a real art lover. Buys quite a bit of sculpture himself. He'd love to have that in his collection.'

  'Sounds as if Tony's a regular Solomon Guggenheim,' said Dave. 'I bet he's got Norman Rockwells, Dali prints, Tretchikopfs, everything.'

  'He knows what he likes, y'know?'

  'When it comes to buying art, nearly everyone has the same problem,' said Dave.

  Others arriving at the party looked at the sculpture and seemed less certain of enjoying themselves, among them Kate and Captain Jellicoe.

  'It's by Evelyn Bywater,' explained Rachel. 'An English artist.'

  'Don't you mean proctologist?' said Kate.

  'Her work is very well known throughout Europe and the Far East. She's is something of an institution in Japan.'

  'Is that institution as in mental institution?' said Kate and left Jellicoe's side to go and talk to Sam Brockman.

  'Jesus. What's wrong with her?' said Rachel. 'You'd think she'd never seen a naked human body before. What about you, Captain? Do you like our work of art?'

  'Well,' he swallowed. 'I know nothing about art. We see very little of that kind of thing in the Merchant Navy. But I do have some rather nice prints in my cabin. Old schooners, tea clippers and British warships. But nothing like that. No indeed.' Jellicoe frowned. 'What sort of films does your company make anyway?'

  'There's one showing upstairs, if you're interested.'

  'Seems hardly sociable to clear off upstairs,' Jellicoe said stiffly. 'Television killing the art of good conversation and all that sort of thing. I've only just got here.'

  Rachel took his arm in hers, and said, 'Come with me. I think you'll find it interesting. Most people seem to think our films are actually an aid to conversation. Kind of a therapeutic thing, y'know? It's not like television at all. And you wouldn't have seen any of our films on TV. I can guarantee it. We're much more video-oriented.'

  She led Jellicoe up to the viewing theater under the envious eyes of Kent Bowen.

  'It's OK,' Kate told him. 'She's taking him up to the viewing theater, not her bedroom.'

  'They're screening movies up there? Jade movies?'

  'I thought that would interest you.'

  Sam Brockman raised his eyebrows and said, 'What are they showing?'

  Bowen laughed coarsely. 'It's not re-runs of The Brady Bunch, you can be sure of that.'

  'Jade Films are in the hard-core porno market,' said Kate.

  'Is that so?' Brockman sounded genuinely surprised. 'You know, I've never seen a real porno movie.'

  Bowen glanced at Kate, teetering on the edge of ridiculing the Coast Guard lieutenant before suddenly realizing that this could work as a strategy to circumvent Kate's contempt. He said, 'You know something, Sam? Neither have I. What do you say we go and take a look for ourselves?'

  Kate fixed Bowen with a gimlet eye. While she could easily believe Sam, she found Bowen's show of innocence harder to swallow.

  'Yeah, come on, Kate,' said Brockman. 'Chill out. It might be a blast.'

  'Maybe she's already seen one,' offered Bowen.

  'I have not.' Kate was sufficiently well informed about what went on in real hard-core porno to know that Howard's subscription to the Playboy Channel hardly qualified as the real thing. 'What do you take me for?'

  'It'll be an experience,' urged Brockman.

  Kate thought poor Sam was looking more and more like some horny high-school kid. His glasses were a tad foggy, and by now it was obvious that he really hadn't ever seen a porno movie and badly wanted to remedy this omission.

  'An experience?' Kate snorted. 'An experience is generally what you learn to call an error in judgment.'

  Brockman raised his glass of champagne.

  'Then here's to errors in judgment,' he said. 'Things would be Dullsville, Arizona without a few of them. Which, so far, has been my own life's story. Sam Brockman, they'll say. Exemplary career. No mistakes. But the CEO of Bromide Incorporated.'

  Kate smiled sympathetically. She had much the same opinion of her own life, with Howard Parmenter being her only major aberration. Filing for divorce had been the most interesting thing that had happened to her in ages. That, and setting up her undercover operation aboard the Duke. Seeing Dave coming toward her she suddenly perceived an extra dimension to what Sam was talking about. Life was about taking risks. And not always calculated risks either. Maybe even a risk like Dave. Sure, making a mistake was always unfortunate. But not to have the opportunity of making a mistake was a catastrophe.

  'OK,' she said. 'Why not?

  'Attagirl,' said Brockman. 'You only live once.'

  'That's been the prevailing theory,' said Kate and indicated the staircase. 'You guys go on ahead. I'll catch you up.' She watched them go up the stairs and then turned to face Dave.

  'Hi.'

  'Hi.'

  For a moment neither of them spoke. Then Kate said, 'I've been thinking, about what you said.'

  'Come to any decisions?'

  'I haven't ruled anything out.'

  'The sea's a pretty good place to float an idea,' he said. 'It's all to do with the freshwater allowance.'

  To Kate's keen perception, Dave looked and sounded just a little distracted.

  'Don't tell me you have to pay duty on water as well?'

  'Fresh water has a lower density than sea water,' he explained. 'Things float deeper in fresh water. There's an F-mark on the ship's Plimsoll line. Difference between S and F is known as the freshwater allowance. You and I are nearer S than F. I'm surprised you didn't know that, you being a boat captain.'

  Kate lit a cigarette.

  'What's this? The Master Mariner's Certificate? Maybe you'd like to put me through my paces? See if I can fit new impellers in the dark, that kind of thing.'

  When Dave made no reply, she smiled and said, 'Don't tell me you've never heard of impellers?'

  Dave looked ready to admit defeat.

  'It's like a propeller,' she said mischievously.

  'Oh yeah, I think I know—'

  'Only spelt different. More 'im' than 'pro'. Matter of fact that's really only as far as the similarity goes.' She smiled triumphantly. 'If the impeller packs up, so does your fuel pump and so does your diesel, so it's important to be able to get it out and fit a new one. Even at sea, in the dark, in a storm. Can be kind of tricky if you don't know how.' She blew some smoke across his shoulder and watched the grin spread on his face.

  Dave jerked his head toward the top of the stairs.

  'What were you guys talking about?'

  'They'd just finished persuading me to go and take a look at the hard-core action.'

  'That's where Al is,' said Dave. 'He's a real movie fan. Sees everything.'

  'That's what's on show,' said Kate. 'Everything. You want to take a look?'

  'Sure.'

  Kate was a little disappointed. She had hoped he'd be the type to shake his head at the very idea of watching porno. Instead here he was, taking her by the elbow and steering her toward the movie theater upstairs. He could at least have pretended to disapprove, for a minute or two anyway. She was swiftly coming to the conclusion that all men were probably interested in this kind of shit.

  She said, 'Beats me why more guys just don't become gynecologists.'

  'Relaxation becomes harder to find when a man's hobby becomes his work,' said Dave.

  'Is that an observation based on personal experience?'

  'That and a lot of wishful thinking.'

  'You're no gay bachelor, I'll say that much for you, Van.'

  She felt his hand in the small of her back as they mounted the stairs. Near the top he stopped and took a step down again.

  'Suddenly I need to visit the head,' he admitted.

  'I thought that was after you'd seen the movie.'

  'You go on in. I'll be there in one minute,' he said.

  'One minute? In a movie like this? You could miss the whole story.'

  'As long as it's got a happy end, I don't mind.'

  Kate started upstairs again. 'Happy endings are what this crap's all about. Lots of them. In slippery close-up.'

  Dave thought he had about ten minutes before Kate started to get suspicious. He left the Jade from her stern, climbing straight onto the Juarista and then onto the Carrera. A minute after leaving Kate at the party he was down the circular stair mat connected the Carrera's salon and dining room with the midship accommodations deck.

  The master suite was the full width of the boat and featured a sitting area, a large walk-in closet, and a generous bathroom with a Jacuzzi. Dave guessed this was the cabin occupied by Kent Bowen. Lying on the floor of the closet were some garishly colored sports shirts he thought he had seen Bowen wearing. And there was no mistaking the sweet antiseptic smell of Brut aftershave that always signalled Bowen's presence. Quickly, Dave opened some of the drawers and almost immediately found what he was looking for: a medium-frame .357 Magnum in a ProPak undercover shoulder holster, and a wallet containing business cards. Dave thumbed one out and read it quickly. The embossed gold roundel in the top left-hand corner of the card was easily recognizable. It identified the Department of Justice just as surely as the printed information alongside. Kent Bowen was an Assistant Special Agent in Charge at Miami's FBI HQ on Second Avenue.

  'Jesus Christ,' he exclaimed.

  Dave replaced the card, closed the drawer carefully and then went next door to search Kate's stateroom. This was tidier than Bowen's. The bed was made, with cushions scattered across the silk brocade spread. Clothes were neatly hung in the closet, but there was nothing in the built-in drawers to interest Dave. Apart from some very sexy underwear.

  'Just the facts, ma'am,' he muttered and, closing the drawer, he backed out of the closet.

  His heel struck something hard underneath the spread. Guessing that there was probably a linen drawer under the bed just like the one in his own stateroom, Dave dropped to his knees, threw back the spread, and grabbed hold of the drawer handle. Hauling it open he found everything he would have expected to find in a linen drawer. He had to reach right to the back to put his hand on the familiar shape he'd been half expecting. The next second he was looking at a Smith & Wesson Airweight .38, holstered in a nice leather Vega, although the gun's shrouded hammer made it about perfect for a handbag. Attached to the holster's strap was an ID wallet containing an FBI badge and card identifying Kate, not as Kate Parmenter, but as Kate Furey, Special Agent. She looked younger in the photograph and her hair was different. But there was no mistaking that launch-a-thousand-ships face.

  Dave nodded with bitter satisfaction. He didn't know whether to whoop or to wail.

  'A Fed,' he mumbled. 'She's a goddamn lousy Fed.'

  The only question was what she and Bowen and the other guy, who was probably a Fed too, were doing on the Duke. There was no way they could know about Dave's score. Unless it was the money they were onto.

  'Fucking Feds.'

  He dived back into the drawer in search of something that might tell him what this was all about, but found nothing. He shut the drawer and went into the head. His eyes noted the brand of her perfume for future reference, a small bottle of Murine eyedrops, some suntan lotion, and an impressive array of mouthwash, dental floss, toothpicks and plaque-disclosing tablets that helped explain Kate's Ford model smile. The drawers were empty, but in a closet under the basin he found a TEAC reel-to-reel tape machine. The kind of tape that wasn't meant to play Handel's Water Music when you were lying in the tub. Dave knew it was set up to record from some kind of listening device. But planted where? On whose boat?

  Twisting a knob he rewound the tape for a couple of seconds. The least he could do in the time available was verify that the Feds weren't interested in him, or in the Russkie money.

 

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