Ghost Writer(82)

Mercuros leaned in towards me.

“You were sleepwalking. Then you started to undress and we couldn't wake you.”

The front of my wetsuit was unzipped to the waist, and I was showing some bare shoulder.

“Oh,” I mumbled. “I was a little warm.”

Now that was a rotten lie. The place was like a fridge. I gave Mercuros a weak grin and covered up.

“Did you find evidence of blood in the tubes?” I asked Mike, trying to sound like nothing weird had just happened.

“Not inside, but at the outside rim. Did William Minton kill them all?”

“No. Not all. He was the one who cleaned up.”

My phone warbled. Awkwardly, hands shaking a little from the aftereffects of what I saw, I pulled it out and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mum.”

“Hi, Shay.” I turned to the others and said, “It's my son.” Then to Seamus I said, “What's up sweetie?”

“I'm back from camp. Dad says hi. Oh, and a Chief Petty Officer Gravell wants me to tell you that now is not the time. What does that mean?”

“I'll let you know when I find out. Talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure, Mum. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I hung up, put the phone back in its pouch on my belt, and took a deep breath. Eight pairs of eyes stared at me in frank amazement. Tim recovered first.

“You were saying, Jen?”

“Minton cleaned up.”

“That's it?”

I ignored Tim's question and turned to Welland.

“Do you think we could go back to the ship now, Barb. I'm feeling a bit nauseous. I should go while I still can make it on my own.”

“Of course, Jen. We can pick up Draco on the way through engineering.”

Mercuros closed in again. “Or I can accompany you. Mike and Mary Lou's teams are going to search the galley together. I'm not really needed there.”

Tim added his mite. “If you're not needed, neither am I, right? I'll come with you, okay? When you’re feeling a bit better, I can interview you.”

If I could have, I would have said no. Tim was obviously curious about what I had been doing. I suppose everyone was, but he had a documentary to make. We had a documentary to make.

“Draco?” I asked, addressing Welland and walking ahead with her. “I thought Cross's first name was George.”

She grinned.

“George Cross. Saint George's Cross. Saint George and the Dragon. Dragon—Draco. See? Anyway, he's never liked the name George. He says you can't pick up chicks with a name like George.”

Behind us Tim snorted. “He should try Tim.”





Chapter Thirty-Eight ~ Out of the Dark



Guy Franchot saw us coming and stopped what he was doing. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew about my ‘sleepwalking.’ He didn't ask how I was directly. Instead he looked to Mercuros, who gave a small shrug.

“I'm fine. This place is just getting to me a little.”

“I understand, Jen,” Franchot said. His tone was kind and only a little condescending. “You have to understand we are worried about you. Will you be all right diving?”

“Actually, I'm looking forward to it. I know the air is fine, but the smell reminds me of when I was trapped. I'm looking forward to breathing the air I've been lugging around in this tank all afternoon.”

He grinned. “You could have taken it off.”

“Not on your life!”

He chuckled, but held up our progress long enough to send Dippel with us. He said it was for my benefit, but I had the feeling the Marine was getting underfoot. Unlike Sinclair, who was digging into the consoles like a terrier after a rat, Dippel was just standing there, watching. He must have been bored because he took Franchot's suggestion to leave with us without argument.

Once in the sunken section of engineering, I thought of one more thing I wanted to settle. I stopped at the site of Margolo's death.

“Wait a sec,” I said over the radio.

Silently I addressed Mitchell Shore, “Why?”



The section is dry. Shore is giving orders about Minton. Margolo sends Boreman and Golanger ahead and tries to tell Shore about what he has discovered. Shore nods and Margolo turns away to continue unscrewing the plate. Shore draws his gun and shoots Margolo.

He doesn't hesitate, but his mouth is pulled down and his brows are puckered in a pained expression. He bends, presses the barrel of his pistol into his friend's skull and shoots again. Then he stands, turns and looks directly at me.

‘Necessary evil,’ he mouths clearly, knowing I have to read lips. Then he points his gun at me and fires.



I didn't die, but I started to choke. Mercuros and Welland grabbed me and hauled me to the surface. Franchot helped pull me out of the water where he and Welland got my mask off. Once I could get a good breath in via my nose, I was able to cough and clear my airway. Nothing came out, so the best we could guess was I choked on my own saliva.

Tim and Mercuros checked my gear. They couldn't find anything in the scuba equipment to account for me choking, but they determined that my radio had become disconnected when I put my mask on. No one heard me when I asked them to wait. From their point of view, I just froze.