OPHELIA
“Ophelia,” Remi repeated in a whisper. “What’s Ophelia?”
Sam took a deep breath, let it out. “I have no idea.”
CHAPTER 9
ZANZIBAR
“CAN’T YOU TWO JUST HAVE A NORMAL, UNEVENTFUL VACATION?” Rube Haywood asked over the speakerphone.
“We have plenty of those,” Remi replied. “But we only call you on the abnormal ones.”
“I don’t know if I should feel complimented or offended,” Rube muttered.
“The former,” Sam said. “You’re our go-to guy.”
“What about Selma?”
“Our go-to gal,” Remi shot back.
“Okay, so let me see if I’ve got this straight: You found a diamond-shaped coin that once belonged to the governess of a French commune on some island near Madagascar but was stolen by a pirate. Then you found a ship’s bell belonging to some mystery ship. Then a gunboatful of Mexican mercenaries with Aztec names showed up and tried to kill you. And now you’ve got one of the bad guys tied up in your spare bedroom. Is that the gist of it?”
“That about covers it,” Remi said.
“With three minor corrections,” Sam added. “The Adelise coin has nothing to do with it, we don’t think, and Selma’s double-checking the Aztec angle. As for the name Ophelia, we don’t think it was the original. First of all, the engraving is very rough, not professionally done. Second, once we were able to clear away more of the muck we picked up a couple engraved letters beneath Ophelia, an S and two Hs.”
“I feel like I’m on one of those practical-joke shows,” Rube said. “Okay, I’ll play along. What can I do to help you?”
“First, take our guest off our hands.”
“How? If you’re thinking about all that rendition business, Sam, I—”
“I was thinking you pull some strings in the Tanzanian Ministry of Home Affairs and have the police detain him.”
“On what charges?”
“He’s got no passport, no money, and he was carrying a weapon.”
Rube went silent for a moment. “Knowing you two as I do, I’m guessing you not only want him out of the way but want to see who shows an interest in him.”
“It had crossed our minds,” Sam replied.
“You still have the gun?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, let me make some calls. What else?”
“He claims his boss’s name is Itzli Rivera, former Mexican army. It’d be nice to know more about him and the yacht they were using. He claims it’s home-ported out of Bagamoyo. The Njiwa.”
“Spell it.”
Remi did so. “It’s Swahili for ‘pigeon.’”
“Oh, good. Thanks, Remi. I’ve always wondered what the word for pigeon was in Swahili,” Rube said.
“Somebody’s cranky.”