“They’re still tracking down Vincent’s mother on Antigua.”
“And C.K.?”
“His extradition hearing starts tomorrow in Panama City. I told the prosecutor there that if our affidavits weren’t enough, we’d fly over to testify.”
“That would be a pleasure. What about Sloane?”
“C.K. told the police in Panama that Sloane got off their boat in Colón and headed straight to the airport.”
“I guess if it’s true, he’s alive and gone, and if it’s not true, he’s dead and gone.”
“Either way, he’s gone.”
“Did they locate his bank?”
“It was also in Colón. They traced it from the key you gave them and it’s been sealed until someone gets a court order to open it. I see you decided to keep his gold chain.”
“It’s a war trophy. I couldn’t very well scalp him.”
“It wouldn’t have been a bad idea if he had any hair.”
“Hey, take a look at what I found tucked underneath the mattress in the forward cabin.” Beth handed him an envelope.
“Sloane left it behind?”
“Or forgot it.”
Max opened the envelope and removed a small packet of papers held together by a rubber band. “It’s a paid-up life insurance policy,” he observed.
“Some offshore carrier located in the Bahamas.”
“It’s for two million dollars. Bob Talcourt is the beneficiary. I guess Sloane was trying to make it up to him.”
“I suppose.”
Max put the papers back in the envelope. “I also included that CD you gave me.” He handed the envelope back over to Beth.
“Sloane had no idea I have the CD he left for Bob. I’m turning it over to the U.S. attorney when I get back to the city.”
“How can you? It’s attorney-client privileged.”
“Not a problem. Bob is the client. I got it from him in connection with his case, not Paramount’s.”
“C.K. will find payback a bitch.”
“Let him explain those offshore accounts filled with untaxed U.S. income from Arab investors,” she agreed, and then without another word, she got up from the bench, stepped onto it, and climbed over to the dock.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to make a call.”
“To Bob?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to tell him about his father over the phone?”
“I don’t know. I’ll see how the conversation goes.”
“Then how about calling Clifford too. He’s waiting to hear from you.”
“Clifford knows we’re here?”
“You should have trusted him with the truth.”
“I should have done a lot of things better.”
“There’s a phone booth at the end of the dock if your cellphone doesn’t work.”
“I know. I’ll be back in a bit.”
This publication is dedicated to my wife, Elizabeth, a nine-letter word meaning “Love of My Life.” For thirty-five years, she has shared the fun, the excitement, and the terror of sailing with me, both figuratively and literally.
Thanks to Mel Berger, my superlative literary agent at WME: Mel, you made it happen. It couldn’t have been easy for you, and I am most appreciative.
Thanks to Kara Cesare, my great editor at Random House: Kara, you gave me a chance, and for that I am grateful.
Thanks to Elizabeth Rudolph, my real-life navigator. To the extent that the many nautical waypoints described in the sailing scenes are spot-on, she deserves all the credit for her skill and hard work. To the extent that they are incorrect, it is totally my fault for not listening to her.
Thanks to my son, Lawrence C. Rudolph. Larry, you have so many of the good characteristics I wanted for my fictional good guy. You always make me proud, just as you did when we put the evil captain ashore on our sail around the BVI that time. All my love.
Thanks to my daughter Elisabeth R. Marcus. Buffi, you provided the positive traits that inspired my heroine to press on, try hard, and face reality. Thank you for being you. All my love.
Thanks to our good friend Nicki Brown: When she was our neighbor and a bank president, she was generous in answering questions about technical banking procedures.
Thanks to my daughter CDR Monica L. Flynn, USCGR (Ret.), for her valued assistance regarding Coast Guard procedures for nautical emergencies and for being my model stepdaughter, sailor, and attorney. All my love and appreciation.
And finally to my daughter Jennifer R. Walsh, literary agent most extraordinaire at WME: You were in on this from the beginning, and it never would have happened without your encouragement. To you, I send all my love and thanks.
About the Author
MICHAEL RUDOLPH is a retired Park Avenue attorney, an ex–New Yorker, and an ex–Connecticut Dodger. His idea of nirvana is to sail off into a Caribbean sunset with his wife, Elizabeth, their golden retriever, and a handful of grandchildren. He sailed his own sailboat on Long Island Sound for many years and chartered other sailboats for extended cruising in the Caribbean. He polished his sailing techniques and blue-water skills with many classes in navigation and seamanship. Noble Chase is his first novel.
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Noble Chase Page 26
