Hunley picked up the yellowing paper from his desk and studied it for a moment. "It says here we shipped to the Georgia Shipbuilding Corporation in Savannah on June fourteenth, 1943." Hunley picked,up another piece of paper. "Here's a report from one of our men who inspected the boilers after they were installed in the ship and connected to the engines. All that is mentioned of any interest is the name of the ship."

"Yes, I have that," said Pitt. "It was the Pilottown."

A strange expression of puzzlement crossed Hunley's face as he restudied the inspector's report. "We must be talking about two different ships."

Pitt looked at him. "Could there be a mistake?"

"Not unless you wrote down the wrong serial number."

"I was careful," Pitt replied firmly.

"Then I don't know what to tell you," said Hunley, passing the paper across the desk. "But according to the inspection report, boiler number 38874 went into a Liberty ship called the San Marino."

CONGRESSWOMAN LOREN SMITH WAS WAITING on the concourse when Pitts flight from Charleston arrived at Washington's National Airport. She waved to get his attention, and he smiled. The gesture was unnecessary. She was an easy woman to spot.

Loren stood tall, slightly over five foot eight. Her cinnamon hair was long but layered around the face, which accented her prominent cheekbones and deep violet eyes. She was dressed in a pink cotton-knit tunic-style dress with scoop neck and long sleeves that were rolled up.

For an elegant touch, she wore a Chinese-patterned sash around her waist.

She possessed an air of breezy sophistication, yet underneath one could sense a tomboyish daring. A representative elected from the state of Colorado, Loren was serving her second term. She loved her job; it was her life. Feminine and softspoken, she could be an unleashed tiger on the floor of Congress when she tackled an issue.

Her colleagues respected her for her shrewdness as well as her beauty.

She was a private woman, shunning the parties and dinners unless they were politically necessary. Her only outside activity was an on again, off again" affair with Pitt.

She approached him and kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Welcome home, voyager."

He put his arm around her and they set off toward the baggage claim. "Thank you for meeting me."

"I borrowed one of your cars. I hope you don't mind."

"Depends," he said. "Which one?"

"My favorite, the blue Talbot-Lago."

"The coupe with the Saoutchik coachwork? You have expensive taste. That's a $200,000 car."

"Oh, dear, I hope it doesn't get dented in the parking lot."

Pitt gave her a solemn look. "If it does, the sovereign state of Colorado will have a vacant seat in Congress."

She clutched his arm and laughed. "You think more of your cars than you do your women."

"Cars never nag and complain."

"I can think of a few other things they never do," she said with a girlish smile.