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“A difficult charge to make stick,” Paul noted.

“Agreed. Brazil is also pushing legislation to protect biodiversity, so we are making progress, but not much. We are talking about taking on drug companies with billions of dollars in resources. It is not an even match.”

A thought occurred to Gamay. “Has your university been involved?”

“Yes,” he said. “We have had teams from time to time. But there is little money for full-time police work.”

It wasn’t the answer Gamay was looking for, but she didn’t persist. “I wish there was something we could do.”

“There is,” Ramirez said with a broad smile. “I would ask a favor. Please feel under no obligation to grant it.”

“Try us,” Paul said amiably.

“Very well. A few hours’ travel from here there is another settlement on the river. The Dutchman who lives there has no radio. They may have heard about a Chulo being killed. In any event, they should be told, in case there are repercussions.” He stuck his leg out. The ankle was heavily wrapped in a bandage. “I can barely walk. I don’t think there is a break, but it is badly sprained. I was wondering if you could go in my place. You could make a quick trip of it.”

“What about the supply boat?” Gamay asked.

“It is due late tomorrow as expected. They will lay over for the night. You would be back before it leaves.”

“I don’t see why we can’t do it,” Gamay said, stopping short as she caught the quizzical look in her husband’s eye. “If it’s okay with Paul.”

“Well—”

“Ah, I apologize. My request has created marital discord.”

“Oh, no,” Paul reassured him. “It’s simply my New England caution. Of course we’d like to help you.”

“Splendid. I will have my men gather supplies for you and fuel my boat. It will be faster on the river than your inflatable. She should make the round trip in the same day.”

“I thought you had only dugout canoes in the village,” Gamay said.

Ramirez smiled. “They serve most of my needs, yes, but occasionally more efficient transportation is desirable.”

She shrugged. “Tell us more about the man you call the Dutchman.”

“Dieter is actually German. He’s a trader, married to a native woman. He comes here occasionally, but mostly he sends his men once a month with a list, and we relay it to the supply boat. He is an unsavory character in my opinion, but that is no reason not to warn him of possible danger.” Ramirez paused. “You do not have to do this. These things are really none of your affair, and you are scientists, not adventurers. Especially the beautiful Señora Trout.”

“I think we can handle it,” Gamay said, looking at her husband with amusement.

She was not speaking with bravado, but as part of the NUMA Special Assignments Team she and Paul had been on any number of dangerous assignments. And as attractive as she was, Gamay was no delicate flower. Back in Racine, Wisconsin, where she was born, she had been a tomboy who ran with a pack of boys and later moved with ease among men.

“Well, then, we have an agreement. After dessert we will have a glass of brandy and retire so we can be up at the crack of dawn.”

A short while later the Trouts were back in their room getting ready for bed when Gamay asked Paul, “Why were you hesitant about helping Dr. Ramirez?”

“Couple of reasons. Let’s start with the fact that this little side trip has nothing to do with our NUMA assignment.”

Paul ducked the pillow tossed at his head. “Since when have you gone by the NUMA rule book?” Gamay said.

“Like you, whenever it has been convenient. I’ve stretched the rules but never broken them.”

“Then let’s just stretch them a little by saying that the river is an integral part of the ocean, therefore any dead person found on it should be investigated by NUMA’s Special Assignments Team. Must I remind you that the team was formed precisely to look into matters nobody else would?”

“Not a bad sales pitch, but don’t put too much stock in your powers of persuasion. If you hadn’t suggested looking into this thing, I would have. On similarly flimsy grounds, I might add. I have an aversion to someone getting away with murder.”

“So do I. Do you have any idea where we might start?”

“Already handled that. Don’t let my taciturn Cape Cod nature deceive you.”


Tags: Clive Cussler NUMA Files Thriller