They were bloated to nearly double their normal size, the skin discolored with charcoal blotches. It was just as Pitt had seen in Chile.

Like the dead crewman on the Tasmanian Star, Joe Eberson had died a horrific and unexplained death.

Chapter 12

12

IT TOOK TWO MORE DIVES FOR THE SUBMERSIBLE TO remove Eberson’s body. A large canvas tarp, hastily sewn into an oversized body bag, was carried to the sunken boat. Using a pair of articulated arms that protruded from the base of the submersible, Pitt slid the bag over Eberson’s head and torso. The monofilament line was cut and the bag brought gently to the surface. Ann insisted on remaining aboard the submersible during the gruesome business of removing and transporting Eberson to the Drake. Once back on deck, Pitt and Giordino set about laying out the slings they would use to raise the Cuttlefish. Soon a decrepit-looking barge with a massive crane arrived at the worksite. Gunn had found the barge in San Diego Harbor, where it was used to support municipal dredging operations. Pitt returned the wave of a friendly-faced man with a gray beard, who was steering the powered barge from a small pilothouse.

Ann joined the two men on deck after she and Gunn briefly examined the body.

“Is that your man?” Giordino asked.

Ann nodded. “We found a waterlogged wallet in his pocket that confirmed as much. We’ll have to leave it to the coroner for a definitive ID and cause of death.”

“A week underwater won’t make that an easy job,” Pitt said.

“At least it appears that his death was accidental. Perhaps they had trouble with the boat and simply drowned.”

Pitt kept silent about Eberson’s hands as he locked one of the slings into the submersible’s steel claws.

Ann observed his work. “Is there much danger of damaging the boat when it’s lifted?”

“We can’t really tell the extent of any structural damage, so the answer is yes. There’s a chance she could collapse on us—but I suspect she’ll pop up without a hitch.”

“Just in case,” Ann said, “I’d like to examine the deck and interior before you make the attempt.”

“We’re about set to make the next dive, so hop aboard.”

The Cuttlefish came into view a short time later, somewhat less menacing without Joe Eberson’s body aboard. Pitt hovered the submersible just above the rear deck, then slowly rotated it to let the exterior floodlights expose the sunken craft.

“Stop!” Ann cried, pointing out the view port. “That box, there.”

Pitt froze the controls, allowing them to study an oblong box strapped to the starboard bulwark.

“Something of importance?” Pitt asked.

“Might be, judging by the padlock.” She was angry with herself for not spotting the box earlier. “Let’s take it up.”

“It looks pretty secure where it is,” Giordino said.