Two down - By Nero Blanc Page 0,19

Water Street near the old docks . . . It’s a place for regulars. No tourists. Know what I mean?”

Rosco eyed the Orion from stem to stern. “What else can you tell me that might interest an insurance company?”

“Look, Polycrates, this boat was clean . . . damn near brand-new . . . no oily rags lyin’ around . . . no loose wires . . . no nothin’ that wouldn’t pass the white glove test . . . The engine had less than twenty hours on it. I’ve chartered to Mrs. Pepper before—not this vessel, but others . . . She’s a better sailor than ninety percent of those bozos at the Yacht Club. Why do you think she comes back here? She knows what she’s getting, that’s why . . . So, what happened? I don’t know.” Colberg pointed at the base of the mast, his hand trembling noticeably. “See the way that mast is buckled? The propane tank from the galley stove did that when it blew. But it was a good unit. I checked it myself. All connections were solid.”

“It could have blown after the fire started.”

“Yeah . . . I suppose.” He studied the Orion a little longer, then said, “Look, I got work to do. Don’t touch anything.”

Colberg started to walk off, but Rosco stopped him. “What about communication gear? What kind of stuff did she have?”

“Hey, Mrs. Pepper pays top dollar, she gets a top-dollar boat. The Orion was loaded. You name it, she had it. Radar, depth finder, weather fax, SSB, VHF, and shortwave.”

“What about one of those emergency beacons?”

“An EPRIB? Every boat in this yard has an EPRIB. Check ’em out if you want. But people have to activate them or they don’t do much good.”

“Aren’t they activated as soon as they hit water?”

“Yeah . . . But they gotta be turned on. There’s a switch.”

“Would she have known to do that? Turn it on?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her? Hey, Polycrates, all EPRIBs are on when a boat leaves my marina. The question you gotta ask those babes is, why did they turn it off—not on.”

Rosco could feel his jaw tighten. “What about the dinghy?” He corrected himself in an attempt to sound more professional: “The inflatable tender?”

“Yep, that was insured, too . . . A 290 VS . . . nice little unit . . . eight-horsepower outboard, too . . . Damn! I don’t think I insured the motor separately.”

Rosco found himself fighting a strong temptation to belt Colberg. The man seemed to have little regard for the fact that two women had been aboard the Orion—two women who were now missing. “All right,” Rosco said after taking a long breath, “what I want to know is, could the dingy have carried Mrs. Pepper and her friend to landfall?”

“Where’s that concern A.M.I.? They doin’ life insurance now?”

Rosco shook his head. “It doesn’t concern A.M.I. It’s my question. Call me softhearted. I just wondered if they might still be alive . . . If you think about it, a witness could make your claim go a lot quicker . . . On the other hand, a witness might also blow your claim right out of the water . . .”

“Give it up, Polycrates,” Colberg snapped. “If they haven’t found those babes by now, they ain’t gonna . . . Sorry, but that’s the law of the sea . . . If it makes you feel any better, though, the inflatable’s motor was gassed up. I’d say they could have got two hours from it . . . It depends how far out they were . . . The clowns who towed in the Orion were so boozed when they hooked up the boat they didn’t take a bearing. That’s why the Coast Guard’s having such a tough time—”

“Doesn’t procedure call for a rescue craft to remain with a wreck? Radio the Coast Guard, and wait for their arrival?”

Colberg let out a short, mean laugh. “Go look at the Dixie-Jack, buddy. Then tell me what those three turkeys knew about ‘procedure.’ ”

Rosco glanced across to the next dock and the fishing boat rocking in the waves. “You don’t mind if I inspect it, then?”

“Suit yourself. I haven’t touched her. I got a gal who cleans these charters for me, but she didn’t come in yesterday. Her kid’s sick or something. Good thing it rained last night. Kept the fish blood from drying up on her.” Colberg pulled a

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