"Same goes for the ship," said Giordino, eyeing Pitt curiously. "No one set foot on the beach except you."

"Darius and I make it unanimous," said Pitt. "He heard no radio transmissions and I found the radio cabin deserted."

"I'm beginning to see your point," Zac said thoughtfully. "Any communication between the ship and von Till could only have taken place underwater. But I'm still not sure I buy your satellite vessel theory."

"Try this one." Pitt paused. "What travels long distances under water, carries a crew, has the capacity to hold a hundred and thirty tons of heroin and would never be searched by Customs or the Bureau of Narcotic Inspectors? The only logical answer is a full-scale submarine."

"Nice try, but it won't pass." Zac shook his head. "We've had divers search beneath the waterline of every Minerva ship at least a hundred times. They have yet to discover a submarine."

"They most likely never will." Pitt's mouth felt dry and his cigarette tasted like burnt cardboard. He flipped the butt out into the middle of the road and watched it smoke until the tar beneath the glowing ember melted into a tiny black pool. "It's not the method that's at fault. Your divers are missing the boat—if you'll forgive the pun—because of timing."

"Are you suggesting the sub is released before the ships dock?" Zacynthus asked.

"That's the general idea," Pitt agreed.

"What then? Where does it go?"

"For the answers let's begin with the Queen Artemisia in Shanghai." Pitt paused a moment, collecting his thoughts. "If you had been standing on the wharves of the Whangpoo River, watching the ship take on cargo, you'd have seen an ordinary loading operation. Cranes lifting sacks—they would be easiest to handle the heroin into the ship's holds. The heroin came first, but it didn't remain in the holds. It was transferred to the sub, probably through a hidden hatch that wouldn't show up on any Customs detection gear. The legitimate cargo was then loaded on board and the Queen shoved off for Ceylon. There, the soybeans and tea were exchanged for the cocoa and graphite—another legitimate cargo. The detour to Thasos came next. For orders from von Till most likely. Then on to Marseille for fuel and the final drop in Chicago."

"There's something bugging me," Giordino murmured.

"Such as?"

"I'm no expert on pigboats so I can't figure how one could play baby kangaroo with a freighter or where it could accommodate two hundred and sixty thousand pounds of drugs."