Flood Tide

Even if the liner was on a clandestine mission to hide China's art treasures somewhere on the other side of the world in either Europe or Africa, why go across the vast, empty region of the South Pacific and through the Strait of Magellan when it was shorter to steer west across the Indian Ocean and around the Cape of Good Hope? Was secrecy so consuming that captain and crew could not risk going through the Panama Canal, or did Chiang Kai-shek have an unknown cavern or man-made structure hidden in the Andes to conceal the immense treasure, if indeed it could be proven the ship was carrying China's national historic wealth?

Perlmutter was a pragmatic man. He took nothing for granted. He went back to square one and restudied the photos of the ship. As he examined her outline, a vague notion began to form in his mind. He called a nautical archivist friend in Panama, waking him from a sound sleep, and charmed him into going through the records of ships passing west to east through the Canal between November 28 and December 5, 1948.

With that lead being pursued, he began reading through a list of names of the ship's officers last known to have sailed on the Princess. All were Chinese except for Captain Leigh Hunt and Chief Engineer lan Gallagher.

He felt as if he was throwing chips on every number of a roulette table. What are the odds of losing? he mused. Thirty-six out of thirty-six? But then he had to consider the zero and double zero. Perlmutter was no old fool. He covered every bet, firmly believing that if only one number paid off, he'd win.

He punched the buttons on his speakerphone and waited for a sleepy voice to answer. “Hello, this better be good.”

“Hiram, it's St. Julien Perlmutter.”

“Julien, why in God's name are you calling me at four in the morning?” Hiram Yaeger's voice sounded as if he was talking through a pillow.

“I'm in the middle of a research project for Dirk, and I need your help.”

Yaeger became marginally alert. “Anything for Dirk, but does it have to be four in the morning?”

“The data is important, and we need it as quickly as possible.”

“What do you want me to investigate?”

Perlmutter sighed with relief, knowing from experience that the NUMA computer genius had never let anyone down. “Got a pencil and paper? I'm going to give you some names.”

“Then what?” asked Yaeger, yawning.

“I'd like you to hack your way through government census, IRS and Social Security records for a match. Also, check them out through your vast file of maritime records.”

“You don't want much.”

“And while you're at it...” said Perlmutter, forging onward.

“Does it never end?”

“I also have a ship for you to trace.”

“So?”

“If my intuition is working, I'd like you to find what port it arrived at between November twenty-eighth and December tenth, nineteen forty-eight.”

“What's her name and owner?”

“The Canton Lines' Princess Dou Wan,” he replied, spelling it out.

“Okay, I'll start first thing after I arrive at NUMA headquarters.”

“Leave for work now,” urged Perlmutter. “Time is vital.”

“You sure you're doing this for Dirk?” demanded Yaeger.

“Scout's honor.”

“Can I ask what this is all about?”

“You may,” replied Perlmutter, and then he hung up.

Within minutes after he began his probe of Captain Leigh Hunt of the Princess Dou Wan, Yaeger found the old seaman mentioned in various references in maritime journals listing ships and their crews that sailed the China Sea between 1925 and 1945, in Royal Navy historical documents and old newspaper accounts describing the rescue of eighty passengers and crew from a sinking tramp steamer off the Philippines by a ship captained by Hunt in 1936. Hunt's final mention came from a Hong Kong maritime register, a short paragraph stating that the Princess Dou Wan had failed to arrive at the scrappers in Singapore. After 1948 it was as if Hunt had vanished from the face of the earth.

Yaeger then concentrated on lan Gallagher, smiling when his search ran across remarks in an Australian marine engineer's journal telling of Gallagher's colorful testimony during an investigation into a shipwreck he had survived that had gone aground near Darwin. “Hong Kong” Gallagher, as he was referred to, had little good to say about his captain and fellow crewmen, blaming them for the disaster and claiming he had never seen any of them sober during the entire voyage. The final mention of the Irishman was a brief account of his service with Canton Lines, with a footnote on the disappearance of the Princess Dou Wan.

Then, to cover all bases, Yaeger programmed his vast computer complex to conduct a search of all worldwide records pertaining to commercial engineering officers. This would take some time, so he wandered down to the NUMA building's cafeteria and had a light breakfast. Upon his return, he worked on two other marine geological projects for the agency before finally returning to see if anything turned up on his monitor.

He stared fascinated at what he saw, not willing to accept it. For several seconds the information did not register in his brain. Now suddenly out of the blue he had a hard hit. He spread the search in several different directions. Several hours later, he finally sat back in his chair, shaking his head. Feeling supremely self-satisfied, he called Perlmutter.

“St. Julien Perlmutter here,” came the familiar voice.

“Hiram Yaeger here,” the computer genius mimicked.

“Did you find anything of interest?”

“Nothing you can use on Captain Hunt.”

"What about his chief engineer?

“Are you sitting down?”

“Why?” Perlmutter asked cautiously.

“Ian 'Hong Kong' Gallagher did not go down on the Princess Dou Wan.”

“What are you saying?” demanded Perlmutter.

“Ian Gallagher became a citizen of the United States in nineteen fifty.”

“Not possible. It must be another lan Gallagher.”

“It's a fact,” said Yaeger, enjoying his triumph. “As we speak, I'm looking at a copy of his engineering papers, which he renewed with the Maritime Administration of the U.S. Department of Transportation shortly after he became a citizen. He then hired on for the next twenty-seven years as chief engineer with the Ingram Line out of New York. He married one Katrina Garin in nineteen forty-nine and raised five kids.”

“Is he still alive?” asked a dazed Perlmutter.

“According to the records, he draws his pension and Social Security checks.”

“Can it be he survived the sinking of the Princess?”

“Providing Gallagher was on it when she went down,” replied Yaeger. “Do you still want me to see if the Princess Dou Wan arrived in an eastern seaboard port during the dates you gave me?”

“By all means,” answered Perlmutter. “And scan the shipping-port arrival records for a ship called the Princess Yung Tai, also owned by the Canton Lines.”

“You got something going?”

“Crazy intuition,” replied Perlmutter. “Nothing more.”

The border of the puzzle is in place, thought Perlmutter. Now he had to fit the inside pieces. Exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he allowed himself the extravagance of a short two-hour sleep. He awoke to the sound of his phone ringing. He allowed it to ring five times while his mind came back on track before answering.

“St. Julien, Juan Mercado from Panama.”

“Juan, thank you for calling. Did you turn up anything?”

“Nothing, I'm afraid, on the Princess Dou Wan.”

“I'm sorry to hear it. I'd hoped by chance she might have made passage through the canal.”

“I did, however, find an interesting coincidence.”

“Oh?”

“A Canton Lines ship, the Princess Yung Tai, passed through on December first, nineteen forty-eight.”

Perlmutter's fingers and hands tightened around the receiver. “What direction was her passage?”

“West to east,” answered Mercado. “From the Pacific into the Caribbean.”