The two parted with a long handshake. Herbert held her hand between both of his. They were strong hands, but gentle. She was glad Herbert had taken charge of this, though the good-bye could easily take far longer than expected. And she had something to do. Loh smiled warmly and left quickly.

“Monica!” Herbert called after her.

She turned. “Yes?”

“Thanks for everything,” he said. “And I don’t mean just the crisis management.”

“You are welcome.”

“Good luck with whatever you’re off to do.”

“Thank you,” she said.

And then she went off to do it.

SEVENTY-NINE - The Coral Sea Sunday, 7:45 A.M.

SEVENTY-NINE

The Coral Sea Sunday, 7:45 A.M.

Although the Singaporean patrol ship was not a fully equipped salvage vessel, it did carry air buoyancy bags. These were to be deployed in the event the ship itself suffered a critical breach. Descending well before sunrise, divers placed the bags in the higher stern section of the Hosannah. It was a difficult salvage, due to the darkness. However, Lieutenant Kumar did not want to risk the boat sinking further. The air compressor filled the bags one at a time. Finally, with six bags inflated, the aft section of the Hosannah broke the surface.

However, with the ship’s return came something else. Something the crew did not expect.

A body.

The divers recovered the remains. Kumar went to the cabin, where several of the rescued seamen were being kept. He asked the young man Marcus Darling to come to sick bay and identify the body.

Marcus seemed numb and pale as he looked at the still-damp, slightly bloated corpse on the gurney.

“Who is he?” Kumar asked.

“That is Captain Kannaday,” Marcus said softly.

“Was he part of the ring?” Kumar asked.

“At first,” Marcus Darling said. “Then . . . something happened.”

“What happened?”

“He changed,” Marcus said. “He turned on Mr. Hawke.”

“I see.” Kumar motioned to the medical officer. The man handed him a white towel. The lieutenant opened it gingerly and showed it to Marcus.

“We found this tangled in the ropes beside him,” Kumar said. “Did it belong to him?”

“No,” Marcus said. “That belonged to Hawke.”

“What is it?”

“A weapon,” Marcus told him. “A wommera. You use it to throw darts.”

“That might explain the wounds on his body,” the medic interjected. “Was there a struggle, Mr. Darling?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus told him. “We were in the water.”

Kumar covered the weapon and set it on the gurney. “It appears as though Mr. Hawke may earn himself a murder charge as well.”

Marcus snickered. “That’s funny. Hawke was always so careful. They all were.”

“All it takes is one active conscience to undermine the cleverest criminal plot,” Kumar said.

“Well, I’m sure that is a real comfort to Kannaday here,” Marcus said. “Instead of being wealthy, he’s dead.”