Blue Gold

Gamay recognized lechery where Victor saw charm, but she was not above using her feminine attributes for leverage. "The Frenchmen I have met in the past would have introduced them selves by now."

"Ah, pardon my bad ma

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "The work is too rigorous at this point for botanists. We have a working knowledge of biology, but we are the advance collection team who will bring back interesting specimens for the scientists to analyze. They will come later when we have paved the way."

"So you're looking for pharmaceuticals?" Paul ventured.

"Perhaps, as a by-product," Arnaud said. "It is no secret the next cure for cancer may be growing in the wondrous biological treasure house above our heads." He tapped his long nose, then his lips. "We are here primarily seeking fragrances for perfumes and essences, tastes for the food industry. If we come across medicinal extracts, so much the better. We have the permission of the Venezuelan government, and our operation is entirely legitimate."

Paul let his gaze drift over the ferocious-looking painted savages, the leveled guns, and the patently terrified Dieter. He didn't believe for an instant that these jungle thugs were doing anything legitimate. He didn't want to set Arnaud off by being too inquisitive, but he knew it would seem peculiar if he didn't show curiosity.

"You'll hardly be surprised if I observe that you're quite heavily armed for a scientific party," Paul said.

"Of course," Arnaud said, taking the comment in stride. "Ramirez's fears were not without foundation. You can see how dangerous the forest is. You yourself have seen a dead man." His mouth curved in an ironic smile. "You must wonder what our relationship is with this wretched creature," he said, speaking of Dieter. "He has given us the men of this village to help in our search for biological specimens. They know the forest better than anyone. He is paid handsomely, I might add."

Paul gri

"And for good reason. Even if what you have to say about yourselves is true, that you are not couriers, this does not change the fact that Dieter here tried to steal from us. We had been looking for an extremely valuable plant that could be worth mil lions, billions possibly, to the pharmaceutical, food, and perfume industry. It's quite a wonder. We were going to take samples to Europe for analysis. The natives have been using it for decades, although not for perfume, unfortunately."

"You seem to have solved your problem," Gamay said. "You have both Dieter and the specimens."

"I wish it were as simple as that," Arnaud said with an edge in his voice. "True, we have this pig, but our valuable plant samples seem to have disappeared."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"We had heard of this amazing plant from the natives, but none of them was able to locate it. We had gone far beyond our original area of operations into uncharted parts of the forest which is where we came across the Indian you were later to find dead. He had samples of the plant in his possession. We offered to pay him to show us where he got the specimens, but he re fused. We made him our guest in the hopes we could persuade him to change his mind."

Paul remembered the welts on the Indian's body. "So when he wouldn't talk, you shot him."

"Oh, no, nothing so simple as that. In fact we were doing our best to keep him alive. Dieter was in charge of providing hospitality and safeguarding the specimens. He got drunk one night and let him escape. The poor devil was shot stealing a canoe. We assumed he got away with the specimens. In which case he would have had them when you found him."

"What did these specimens look like?" Paul asked.

"Quite unimpressive, really. Small tapered leaves with red veins which give the plant its local name, blood leaf."

"We examined the contents of the Indian's bag," Paul said.

"There was a medicinal pouch full of folk medicine herbs. Nothing like you described."

"So," Arnaud said. He turned a scornful eye back to Dieter. "You said the Indian left with the plant in his possession. Who is telling the truth?"

"I don't know what they're talking about," Dieter countered. "The Indian took his bag and everything in it."

"I don't think so," Arnaud said quietly. "If they had the plant specimens, they would not have come back and acted so stupidly. I think you have what we want." He cocked his revolver. "And if you don't tell me where it is, I shall kill you."

"Then you'd never find it, Arnaud," the Dutchman said, dredging up a shred of defiance. It was bad timing. Arnaud was clearly in no mood to dally.

"True, but before I Killed you I'd turn you over to my painted friends here. They would have no compunction against ski

Color drained from Dieter's florid face. "I did not mean I would not tell you. I only meant there must be room to negotiate."

"All opportunity for negotiation has passed, regretfully. I'm tired of this affair. I'm tired of you." He raised the pistol to Dieter's lips. "I'm tired of your lying mouth."

There was a tremendous boom, and the lower half of the Dutchman's face disappeared in an explosion of crimson from the point-blank shot. The monocle popped from his unbelieving eye, and his body toppled over backward like a tree felled by a chainsaw.

The Frenchman turned the smoking gun on Paul. "As for you, I don't know if you are telling the truth or not. My instinct tells me that you are. It's very unfortunate that you happened to visit this pig. Nothing personal, but I can't let you carry away news of what has been going on." He shook his head sadly. "I assure you, I will make it quick for your beautiful wife."

Paul was light-years ahead of the Frenchman. He'd been

shocked by Dieter's summary execution, but he knew immediately what Arnaud's move meant for Gamay and him. No wit nesses. Trout's lanky body and normally languorous movements were deceptive. He could move quickly when he had to. He tensed his arms, ready to grab Arnaud's wrist and twist him to the ground. He knew that at the best he would take the bullet, but Gamay might get away in the confusion. At the worst, they would both be killed.

As Arnaud's finger tightened on the trigger and Trout pre pared to make his last-ditch move, there was a sound, half grunt, half cough, from the Indian wearing the Yankees baseball cap. He had dropped the shotgun, and now he looked down in terror at the brown wooden shaft of an oversized arrow that protruded at least two feet from the front of his chest. Its barbed point glistened with red. He made a motion to grab onto the arrow, but the tremendous hemorrhaging from the projectile took its toll, and he crumpled to the ground near Dieter's body.

Another Indian cried out. "Chulo!" A giant arrow cut him down as soon as the shout left his lips.

His companions took up the horrified chant.

"Chulo! Chulo!"