The Scarletti Inheritance - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,68
informing me!'
'If ten people in all Washington know about it, I'd be surprised. How's your ankle?'
'It will survive, as I shall under the circumstances.'
'If I call the doctor, will you make up some story about falling? Just to give me time. That's all I ask.'
'I'll do you one better, Mr. Canfield. I'll let you go now. We can call a doctor later if it's necessary.' She opened the drawer in the bedside table and handed him the stateroom key.
Canfield started toward the door.
'Under one condition.' The old woman raised her voice sufficiently to stop him.
'What's that?'
'That you give due consideration to a proposition I have to make to you.'
Canfield turned and faced her quizzically. 'What kind of proposition?'
'That you go to work for me.'
'I'll be back soon,' said the field accountant as he ran through the door.
Chapter Twenty-one
Three-quarters of an hour later Canfield let himself quietly back into Elizabeth Scarlatti's stateroom. The moment the old woman heard the key in the latch she cried out apprehensively.
'Who is it?'
'Canfield.' He walked in.
'Did you find him?'
'I did. May I sit down?'
'Please.'
'What happened? For heaven's sake, Mr. Canfield! What happened? Who is he?'
'His name was Boothroyd. He worked for a New York brokerage house. He obviously was hired, or assigned to kill you. He's dead and his earthly remains are behind us - I judge about three miles.'
'Good God!' The old woman sat down.
'Shall we start at the beginning?'
'Young man, do you know what you've done? There'll be searches, inquiries! The ship will be in an uproar!'
'Oh, someone will be in an uproar, I grant you. But I doubt that there will be more than a routine, and I suspect, subdued inquiry. With a grieving, confused widow confined to her quarters.'
'What do you mean?'
Canfield told her how he had located the body near Boothroyd's own stateroom. He then touched briefly on the grimmer aspects of searching the body and dispatching it overboard, but he described in fuller detail how he had returned to the lounge and learned that Boothroyd supposedly passed out several hours earlier. The bartender, in what was probably exaggeration, said that it had taken half a dozen men to haul him away and put him to bed.
'You see, his highly noticeable alibi is the most logical explanation for his... disappearance.'
'They'll search the ship until we reach port!'
'No, they won't.'
'Why not?'
'I tore off part of his sweater and wedged it into a corner of the post railing outside his stateroom. It'll be apparent that the drunken Mr. Boothroyd tried to rejoin the party and that he had a tragic accident. A drunk plus rotten weather aboard ship is a bad combination.' Canfield stopped and reflected. 'If he was operating alone, we're all right. If he wasn't...' Canfield decided to be quiet.
'Was it necessary to throw the man overboard?'
'Would it have been better to have him found with four bullets in him?'
'Three. There's one lodged in the bedroom ceiling.'
'That's even worse. He'd be traced to you. If he has a colleague aboard this ship, you'd be dead before morning!'
'I suppose you're right. What do we do now?'
'We wait. We talk and we wait.'
'For what?'
'For someone to try to find out what happened. Perhaps his wife. Perhaps the one who gave him the key. Someone.'
'You think they will?'
'I think they have to if there's anyone on board who was working with him. For the simple reason that everything went - poof.'
'Perhaps he was just a burglar.'
'He wasn't. He was a killer. I don't mean to alarm you.'
The old woman looked carefully into Canfield's eyes. 'Who is "they," Mr. Canfield?'
'I don't know. That's where the talking comes in.'
'You believe they're connected with my son's disappearance, don't you?'
'Yes, I do - Don't you?'
She did not answer directly. 'You said we should start at the beginning. Where is that for you?'
'When we found out that millions of dollars' worth of American securities were being sold secretly on a foreign exchange.'
'What has that to do with my son?'
'He was there. He was in the specific area when the rumors started. A year later, after his disappearance, we received reliable intelligence that the sale had been made. He was there again. Obvious, isn't it?'
'Or highly coincidental.'
'That theory was knocked out of the box when you opened the door for me an hour ago.'
The old woman stared at the field accountant as he slouched in the chair. He, in turn, watched her through half-closed eyes. He saw that she was furious but controlled.