Sidney Sheldon - The Doomsday Conspiracy

He sat there sipping procanico, the delicate native white wine, watching for the Halcyon. He went over his plan again. The yacht would drop him off near the coast of Marseilles, and he would make his way to Paris where he had a friend, Li Po, who would help him. It was ironic. He heard Francesco Cesar’s voice saying: I’ve heard you’ve made a deal with the Chinese.

He knew that Li Po would help him, because Li had once saved Robert’s life, and according to ancient Chinese tradition, he had become responsible for Robert. It was a matter of win yu – honour.

Li Po was with the Guojia Anquanbu, the Chinese Ministry of State Security that dealt with espionage. Years earlier, Robert had been caught while trying to smuggle a dissident out of China. He had been sent to Qincheng, the top security prison in Beijing. Li Po was a double agent who had worked with Robert before. He managed to arrange for Robert to escape.

At the Chinese border, Robert had said, “You should get out of this while you’re still alive, Li. Your luck won’t last forever.”

Li Po had smiled. “I have ren – the ability to endure, to survive.”

One year later, Li Po had been transferred to the Chinese Embassy in Paris.

Robert decided that it was time to make his first move. He left the restaurant and wandered down to the waterfront. It was crowded with large and small boats leaving from Portoferraio.

Robert approached a man polishing the hull of a sleek motor boat. It was a Donzi, powered by a V-8 351 inboard engine.

“Nice boat,” Robert said.

The man nodded. “Merci.”

“I wonder if I could rent it to take a little cruise around the harbour?”

The man stopped what he was doing and studied Robert. “That might be possible. Are you familiar with boats?”

“Yes. I have a Donzi back home.”

The man nodded approvingly. “Where are you from?”

“Oregon,” Robert said.

“It will cost you four hundred francs an hour.”

Robert smiled. “That’s fine.”

“And a deposit, of course.”

“Of course.”

“She’s ready to go. Would you like to take her out now?”

“No, I have some errands to run. I thought tomorrow morning.”

“What time?”

“I’ll let you know,” Robert said.

He handed the man some money. “Here’s a partial deposit. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He had decided it would be dangerous to let the Halcyon come into port. There were formalities. The capitano di porto – the harbourmaster – issued each yacht an autorizzazione and recorded its stay. Robert intended for the Halcyon to be as little involved with him as possible. He would meet it at sea.

In the office of the French Marine Ministry, Colonel Cesar and Colonel Johnson were talking to the marine operator. “Are you sure there has been no further communication with the Halcyon?”

“No, sir, not since the last conversation I reported to you.”

“Keep listening.” Colonel Cesar turned to Colonel Johnson and smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ll know the moment Commander Bellamy boards the Halcyon.”

“But I want to get him before he’s aboard.”

The marine operator said, “Colonel Cesar, there is no Palindrome listed on the map of Italy. But I think we’ve pinned it down.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s not a place, sir. It’s a word.”

“What?”

“Yes, sir. A palindrome is a word or sentence that is spelled the same forward or backward. For example, ‘Madam I’m Adam’. We’ve run some through our computers.” He handed him a long list of words.

Colonel Cesar and Colonel Johnson scanned the list. “Kook … deed … bib … bob … boob … dad … dud … eve … gag … mom … non … noon … Otto … pop … sees … tot … toot …” Cesar looked up. “It’s not much help, is it?”

“It might be, sir. They were obviously using some kind of code. And one of the most famous palindromes was supposedly said by Napoleon: ‘Able was I ere I saw Elba.’”

Colonel Cesar and Colonel Johnson looked at each other. “Elba. Jesus Christ! That’s where he is!”

Day Twenty

The Island of Elba

It first appeared as a faint speck on the horizon, rapidly looming larger in the early morning light. Through the binoculars, Robert watched it materialize into the Halcyon. There was no mistaking the ship. There were not many at sea like it.

Robert hurried down to the beach where he had arranged to rent the motor boat.

“Good morning.”

The owner of the boat looked up. “Bonjour, monsieur. Are you ready to take it out?”

Robert nodded. “Yes.”

“How long will you want it for?”

“No more than an hour or two.”

Robert gave the man the rest of the deposit, and stepped down into the boat.

“Take good care of it,” the man said.

“Don’t worry,” Robert assured him, “I will.”

The owner untied the painter, and moments later the boat was headed out to sea, racing toward the Halcyon. It took Robert ten minutes to reach the yacht. As he approached it, he saw Susan and Monte Banks standing on the deck. Susan waved to him and he could see the anxiety in her face. Robert manoeuvred the small boat next to the yacht and tossed a line to a deckhand.

“Do you want to bring it aboard, sir?” the man called.

“No, let it go.” The owner would find it soon enough.

Robert walked up the ladder to the spotless teak deck. Susan had once described the Halcyon to Robert, and he had been impressed, but in actuality it was even more impressive. The Halcyon was two hundred and eighty feet long, with a luxurious owner’s cabin, eight double suites for guests, and cabins for a crew of sixteen. It had a drawing room, a dining room, an office, a saloon and a swimming pool.

The ship was propelled by two 1250 horsepower sixteen-cylinder turbo-charged caterpillar D399 diesel engines, and carried six tenders. The interior design had been done in Italy by Luigi Stur-chio. It was a floating palace.

“I’m glad you made it,” Susan said.

And Robert had the impression that she was ill at ease, that something was wrong. Or was it just his nerves?

She looked absolutely beautiful, and somehow, he was disappointed. What the hell had I expected? That she would look pale and miserable?

He turned to Monte. “I want you to know how much I appreciate this.”

Monte shrugged. “Glad to help you out.”

The man was a saint.

“What’s your plan?”

“I’d like you to turn and head due west to Marseilles. You can drop me off the coast and …”

A man in a crisp white uniform approached. He was in his fifties, heavyset, with a neatly trimmed beard.

“This is Captain Simpson. This is …” Monte Banks looked at Robert for help.

“Smith. Tom Smith.”

Monte said, “We’ll be heading for Marseilles, Captain.”

“We’re not going into Elba?”

“No.”

Captain Simpson said, “Very well.” He sounded surprised.

Robert scanned the horizon. All clear.

“I’d suggest we go below,” Monte Banks said.

When the three of them were seated in the saloon, Monte asked, “Don’t you think you owe us an explanation?”

“Yes, I do,” Robert said, “but I’m not going to give you one. The less you know about this whole affair the better. I can only tell you that I’m innocent. I’m involved in a political situation. I know too much, and I’m being hunted. If they find me, they’ll kill me.”

Susan and Monte exchanged a look.

“They have no reason to connect me with the Halcyon,” Robert went on. “Believe me, Monte, if there were any other way for me to escape, I would have taken it.”

Robert thought of all the people who had been killed because he had tracked them down. He could not bear to have anything happen to Susan. He tried to keep his voice light. “I would appreciate it for your own sakes, if you didn’t mention that I was ever aboard this ship.”