“I see you brought your own equipment.” Hanssen nodded at the large nylon bag Luis carried on board.
“Just bought it. This is a treat. Haven't been diving for some time.”
Elia smiled, but didn't say a word.
“Where are we going?” Luis asked.
“Shipwrecks. There're plenty to choose from,” Hanssen said. “Are you certified?”
“I am,” Luis said. “How deep will we be going?”
“We've got great visibility to 150 feet, but I don't like to go that deep. Nearby there's a shipwreck at about thirty. Does that sound good to you?” Hanssen talked and Scharff maneuvered the sailboat out of the harbor. “While we head out, take these beach towels to the foredeck and enjoy the sun. Go on, Jake and Bonnie, you too.”
“We're fine here,” Elia said. She spread the towel on a bench and she and Luis sat facing Hanssen and Scharff. “How's the meeting going?”
“Good,” Hanssen said. He sat down across from them. Riser and his wife leaned on the rail.
“I hear it was your friend who died,” Hanssen said. “I'm sorry.”
“I guess you filled his speaking slot,” Luis said.
“I'm not involved with the meeting. I'm just here for the sailing, but I'm sure the slot has been filled. You know how everyone wants more time to speak.”
“Frank and Aaron are friends from Connecticut,” Riser said. “But he's not in pharmaceuticals. What would you say your business is, Frank? Money?”
Hanssen laughed. “You might say that.” He pulled out his wallet and handed Elia his card.
She took the card and dropped it in her bag.
“Do you know what Vicente was going to talk about?” Luis addressed the question to Riser.
Riser was busy slathering sunscreen on himself. He held the bottle out to Elia. “I don't. Not entirely. I told Elia that Vicente and I planned to get together Saturday evening.”
“How about Aaron?” Luis asked Hanssen.
Hanssen inclined his head toward Aaron. “You'll have to ask him. I think your friend was using this meeting as his debut. You know, a chance to get his feet wet before becoming a formal member of the clinical trials team.”
“We'll find out in Charleston, Luis,” Elia said.
“Oh? You're going to Charleston?” Scharff looked over at the group.
“To empty Vicente's home,” Elia said. “It's too much for his parents.”
Scharff seemed to mull this over. The boat sluiced through the water. “We're almost to the dive site,” he said. “Jake tells me you live in Georgia. You might be interested to hear about the dive site we're going to.” He kept his eyes on the water in front of him. “The Montana. She was a Confederate blockade runner during the Civil War and carried a cargo of munitions and medical supplies from the British Isles to Wilmington, North Carolina. Bermuda brought her down.”
“Bermuda?” Elia asked. “Didn't Bermuda support the Confederacy?”
“She did. She was a safe haven for it,” Scharff said. “A stopping point for boats loaded with supplies. Vessels would carry goods from England, and Confederate blockade runners would pick up the goods and run them to Southern ports.”
“But you said Bermuda brought the Montana down. How so?”
“Not like you think. Bermuda is surrounded by reefs. On the outside of the reefs the depth of the water is a thousand feet or more, but inside the reefs, the depth might be three feet, or thirty. The Montana hit a reef system and sank. Her crew and cargo were rescued, but the boat didn't make it. She lies in thirty feet of water surrounded by high coral reefs, not far from here just about eight miles from Hamilton.”
“Coral reefs.” Elia waved her hand to indicate a large expanse. “I imagine there are a lot shipwrecks out here.”
“Hah. The reefs helped the Union side, that's for sure. There are several Confederate tramp steamers from the Civil War in these waters.”
“Tramp steamers?” Elia asked.
“That's just a nickname for ships like the Montana. The sails would collect the coal ash from the vessels’ furnaces.” Scharff turned and pointed to their white sails. Picture the filthy sails. Get it? Tramp steamer.”
“And today? Many shipwrecks?” Luis asked.
“Always have to be careful,” Scharff said. “In 1997, a Chinese vessel was sent to the bottom by the Bermuda Government. The boat had been carrying illegal immigrants and was intercepted off Bermuda by the U.S. Coast Guard. It was towed to Bermuda and, beyond repair, was scuttled. But there are wrecks out here dating back 500 — 600 years. Probably further back.”
Hanssen joined the discussion. “Luis, I hear you're a physician. How about you, Elia? Are you a doctor, too?”
“No. I'm a writer.”
“Oh? What do you write?”
“Feature stories. Who knows? I might write a story about this dive.”
“Speaking of… You're certified to dive, aren't you?” Luis asked. “Or did I lie?”
The Risers and Hanssen looked in her direction. “I'm certified, but I think I better tell you something.” She hesitated. “I'm really not comfortable scuba diving.”
“Why didn't you say something? We don't have to be here,” Luis said.
“We can just sail,” Hanssen said.
“No. I want to do it. Slay my dragons — that sort of thing.”
“I don't think diving is something you have to conquer to live a normal life,” Luis said.
“Maybe. But it's one more thing.”
“It's a shallow dive, you'll do fine,” Bonnie said. “I conquered that dragon a long time ago.”
“We'll be there in a couple of minutes,” Scharff said. “Want to get ready?”
Hanssen stood and opened a closet. Four bright yellow tanks were lined up like soldiers. The regulators — breathing apparatuses — hung from hooks. Stacked neatly nearby were four BCs, the buoyancy compensators that, depending on how much air was released from them, would determine whether divers rise to the surface, fall deeper, or float at one level.
“You certainly keep everything orderly,” Elia said as she stood inside the closet. She ran her hand lightly over the BCs. “Dry. This your first dive since you've been here?”
“We've been out. But not diving.” Hanssen dragged a tank to Elia. “Here you go.”
Elia opened her bag of new equipment and busied herself putting on booties, fins, and mask.
“Are you diving, Bonnie?” Hanssen asked.
“No. I may jump in to cool off, but I don't think I'll dive today.”
“Okay. These are for you fellas,” Hanssen said to Luis and Riser pointing with his foot to two tanks. “Aaron?”
“I'll be the designated driver.”
Hanssen laid out BCs and regulators on a bench, along with two octopuses — the alternate air source for sharing air — if the need should arise.
“No belts?” Luis asked, looking around for a weight belt.
Hanssen held up a BC. “The weights are right here.” He pulled up a flap on either side of the vest-like BC and slid out a nylon packet filled with weights. “Any trouble, just pull these rings and it'll slide right out of the vest.” He demonstrated, and the weights thudded to the deck.
Luis hefted Elia's tank while she struggled into her BC, then lifted it onto her back and helped her secure it. Weighted down, she plopped backward onto the bench to wait for Luis.
Hanssen helped Riser and Luis into their equipment. When Luis was outfitted, he took Elia's arm and helped her stand. She squared her shoulders and stood straight.
They had reached the dive site. Two other boats were nearby.
“Looks like we'll have a lot of company,” Luis said.
“This wreck's a popular site,” Hanssen said. “It's not deep, so there're a lot of novices.”
“Have you ever dived wrecks?”
“I have,” Luis said.
“Same here,” Riser said.
Elia shook her head. “No.”
“Where di
d you dive?” Luis wore a questioning look.
“Augusta State's pool.” She grimaced.
“The college?” Luis sounded confused.
“Classes. I took classes there.” She held up her hands in a calm down signal. “I passed the course. I just haven't had the chance to go out on a — well — on a real dive.”
The others on the boat were silent as they watched the exchange. Finally, Bonnie spoke up. “You'll do fine. Believe me, this will be a lot more fun than diving in a pool.”
“And it's an easy dive,” Hanssen said. You can see where you entered and where you can get out, by outside light. Good wreck for first-timers.” He seemed to think of something. “One thing. Be careful going through the passageways; you don't want to snag onto anything.”
“I'll be fine.” Elia then looked at Luis. “Ready to go, Luis? Jake?”
“It's up to you, Elia,” Luis said.
She hesitated, then said, “Let's go.”
Luis, Elia and Riser sat on the edge of the boat, put their masks and mouthpieces in place, gave the thumbs-up sign, and fell backward into the crystal-clear water.
They deflated their BCs and floated toward the wreck. Immediately, they saw four other divers. They swam side-by-side down to the 236-foot tramp steamer. Near the wreck, fish swam in a kaleidoscope of colors: blue and green angelfish, rainbow parrotfish, blue chromis. Elia and Luis circled the boat three times, slowly, swimming with the sea creatures. Riser waved to them and swam over to the other divers. Just as Hanssen had said, when they poked their head into a hole of the wreck, they could look through and see light at the far end.
They pulled their heads out of the entrance as two divers swam past them and out through the passage. They caught a glimpse of another diver toward the back of the boat.
Elia signaled Luis to go inside. He swam into the Montana. She followed. Without doing much exploring, they swam out the opposite end toward a detached section of the boat. This was the stern, overgrown with coral with its fantail still distinguishable from the elliptical framework.
The silence deep beneath the surface overwhelmed Elia. For a second she lost sight of Luis and she felt utterly alone and found herself beginning to panic. She willed herself to be calm. When she spied Luis coming toward her, she relaxed and was able to breathe through the regulator the way she had been taught.
Luis pointed toward the way they had come, and she followed him back to the main section of the Montana. They passed through a ten-foot hole in the hull not too far from the surface, then went deeper. Here were two large paddlewheel frames, like small Ferris wheels.
Elia saw Luis swim down a passage and followed behind. But she stopped. She looked around at the crumbling walls, and felt them closing in on her. She backed up and felt herself bumping into something, but then she floated free. She looked behind her and saw another diver quickly swim away toward the entrance. The she looked forward to where Luis had gone.
Come back, Luis. I'm not behind you. She knew she should have stayed with him. She swam to the entrance and faced into the boat, watching for him. He returned and swam to Elia and signaled with his hands to ask what happened. She shook her head back and forth and pointed out. He nodded.
She took the lead and swam with the fish on the outside of the boat. She turned suddenly and faced Luis. She waved her hand rapidly across her throat, the no-air signal, her eyes wide open with panic. She grappled at her BC and grabbed for the weights and jerked them out of her vest and inflated her BC. She shot toward the surface.
Luis swam to her quickly. He barely caught the tip of her fin and pulled her down to him. She struggled frantically in his arms.
He pulled his octopus free, and with determined movements, put the regulator to Elia s mouth. She gulped a breath. Luis held up a hand, palm down. She understood and slowed her breathing. The hose was a yard long, but he held her arm to keep her close. He began deflating his vest and slowly rose to the surface with Elia.
Riser swam to the entrance of the Montana as Luis and Elia ascended. He followed slowly.
When Elia's head broke the surface, she ripped off her face mask, spit out the regulator and swam toward the boat. Luis was beside her.
Bonnie jumped in the water and swam over to Elia. “You okay?” she asked.
“Fine.”
Hanssen stood on the ladder half into the water and gave Elia a hand up into the boat. He lifted her tank off her back, then helped Luis.
Bonnie swam to the boat and climbed up the ladder reaching for Hanssen's outstretched hand. “That was quick,” she said to the couple. “I thought you'd be down a lot longer.”
Before they could answer, Riser's head broke the surface. He swam to the boat and climbed out of the water. “Are you okay? I saw you buddy-breathing. What happened?”
“I lost my air.” Elia wriggled out of her BC and dropped it on deck. “I panicked.” She looked at Luis. “You thought I was going up too fast, didn't you? Worried about the bends.”
“Bends? No. We weren't deep enough. But I did worry about an air embolism. You were holding your breath trying to reach the surface; that's when you get into trouble. You didn't get that far, so you're okay. You are okay, aren't you?” He looked at her closely. “Vision okay? No dizziness or chest pain? You don't seem disoriented.”
“No, I'm fine. Mad at myself. I panicked.” She pulled her fins and booties off then looked at her regulator and its attached hose. “It's slit.”
Bonnie took the hose from her. “It sure is. Frank told you that's the problem with wreck diving.”
Scharff had come up from below deck and took his place at the helm. “You must have bumped up against something. You fellows all right?”
While he was speaking, Elia picked up her BC to put it away. Inside the closet, she stepped in a puddle, and her feet went out from under her. She swung her arms out on either side of her body and slapped her hands down hard on the deck as she landed on her back. This move protected her when she hit the floor, amove she had learned years earlier in her Tae Kwan Do classes.
“I'm okay, I'm okay,” she said to the men as they rushed to her side. “Just damaged my dignity.”
Luis bent to help her. She got to her feet and looked at her damp hands. “I guess I slipped in this puddle.”
Elia took the hose from Bonnie. “Let me see if I can get this repaired,” she said. “Or I'll replace it.” She looked closely at the neat gash and frowned.
Bonnie grabbed it back. “No need. We'll take care of it.” She looked at Hanssen. “You will, right, Frank?” She threw the hose into the closet and shut the door, without waiting for an answer. “Let's head back, Aaron.”
Aaron Scharff looked at Bonnie with puzzlement, then shrugged and maneuvered the boat around.
Elia and Luis pulled shorts and T-shirts over their wet bathing suits and looked at the sea while Scharff took them back to Hamilton.
“You're quiet.” Luis had his arm around his wife. “Scared you, didn't it?”
Elia glanced at the closed closet then at the others on the boat. She shivered and leaned in closer to Luis.
The boat docked at sunset. Luis and Elia walked hand-in-hand through town. “I'm famished,” Luis said, eyeing a couple of restaurants. “But we look like beach bums. No one will seat us.”
“Pick a dive.” Elia shook her head. “I can't believe I said that.”
They chose a pub on the water. It was dark and smelled of spilled beer and stale cigarettes. Loud laughter came from a group of sinewy men seated around a battered oak table. Luis and Elia settled in a booth and ordered beers.
“I've been mulling something over in my head, Luis.” She was pushing her cold bottle around in its puddle.
Luis reached across the table and took her hand. “I know, honey. I'll never ask you to dive again. In fact, I won't even go myself, if that's bothering you.”
“No, that's not it.” She paused. “How do you think a hose would look if it was cut during a dive at a shipwreck?”<
br />
“Jagged?”
“Well, it wasn't. It was a neat slice. How could that happen?”
“It happened. Is it important?” Menus were wedged against the wall with a Ketchup bottle serving as a bookend. He handed her one and kept one for himself. “It's not, because we won't dive again.”
A waitress came and took orders for fish and chips. Elia continued pushing her bottle around in its little puddle. “Look at this.”
“Your beer?”
“The puddle. Look, when I put my equipment away, the storeroom floor was wet. That's why I slipped. I hadn't expected a wet, slippery floor. It was dry as a bone when we dressed for the dive. I was the first person to put my wet equipment away. But why was the floor wet?”
Luis took a swig of his beer and set it in his own puddle. “It's a boat. Things get wet.”
The pub was filling up and getting noisier. Elia picked at her French fries and nibbled at her fish. Luis cleaned his plate. “You going to eat that?” he said, with his eye on her sandwich.
“As a matter of fact, I am.” She took a bite of her cod and looked across the table at Luis. “I'll split it.” She gave him half and continued to pick.
“What else is on your mind?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Let's go back to the cottage and give — I don't know — I guess Frank a call. I want that hose.”
“Cottage, yes. Frank, no.” Luis said. “At least not tonight, Señora Echevarria.
Chapter 14
Their cottage hugged a cliff; ten steps down, on a plateau, was a kidney-shaped pool surrounded by lush greenery. The foliage hid the pool from view from the cottages above. Luis and Elia had discovered the pool during an early-morning run, but in the dark they would have fallen in, except for patio lights shedding a soft glow over the water. If they descended another hundred feet, they would be at the edge of the ocean.
Before they reached their cottage, Elia said, “Let's take a swim.” She led the way down the steps and shed her T-shirt, and stopped to step out of her shorts. Luis did the same. She looked toward the cottages and saw they were hidden from view.
Die Before Your Time (Elia Christie / Luis Echevarria medical mysteries) Page 5
