Within half an hour Ames was jeeping to Tom’s laboratory from the island airfield. When they were seated together, Tom began: “Harlan, I think it’s hopeless to wait any longer for Vaxilis to show himself.”
“Do you figure he has found out that you survived?” Ames asked.
“Probably. And he’s too smart to take any chances.”
“The butler, by the way, is recovering and has made a full statement, backing up your charges.”
“Vaxilis will get wind of that eventually,” Tom said. “And he’s certain to find out about me, too, if he hasn’t already done so.”
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154 AQUATOMIC TRACKER
“I’m afraid you’re right,” Ames agreed.
“Besides, with the butler’s testimony about the Delian Apollo, we might even scrape up enough evidence to pin the sinking of the Centurion on him-especially-if any of his other henchmen break down and talk. And that’s one rap he’d find too hot to beat.”
“We know he used a submarine,” Ames mused. “As a big shipping tycoon, he might have had one built undercover. For all outward appearances it could have been for one of the smaller countries-with some phony story about a sinking on its trial run all cooked up if anyone ever checked.”
“Or as an armaments broker, Vaxilis could have bought one secondhand from some naval power and converted it to atomic design,” Tom pointed out.
“Either way, it could be tough to track down if he handled the deal through secret middlemen.”
“So what’s your plan, skipper?”
Tom got up from his lab stool and began pacing restlessly back and forth.
“Harlan, our only hope of rescuing Bud is to bait a trap with something Vaxilis-can’t resist.”