The four teen-agers taxied back to Orly Airport. Tom and Bud said good-by to the girls and took off with their crew in the Sea Hound. En route south toward the Mediterranean, Tom radioed a full report to Ames at Enterprises.
124 AQUATOMIC TRACKER
“Do you think the guy was leveling?” Ames asked.
“I don’t know, Harlan. That piece of gold doesn’t prove much. Neither does his picture of Carlow-it might have been taken anywhere.”
“If the whole thing’s a plant by the real gang,” Ames mused, “how would they know we’ve already had Carlow under suspicion?”
“Maybe they don’t,” Tom reasoned. “But they may have seen my tiff with Carlow in London. And maybe they know from those newspaper rumors that he was interested in the Centurion salvage job. That would automatically make Carlow a swell choice for a fall guy if they were trying to direct suspicion to someone.”
“Hmm, could be,” Ames agreed. “On the other hand, if that Arab was working for the gang, would they risk tipping you off that the Centurion had been looted?”
“They might if they suspect I’m already wise to it. Anyhow, his story wouldn’t help us much. We still couldn’t prove the ship had been looted unless \ve found the loot.”
“Well, I’ll notify the Navy and the FBI,” Ames said. “And I’ll personally sit in when they interrogate Carlow.”
Soon the dazzlingly blue sea came into view, and a cluster of white and pastel buildings, many of them red-roofed. Tom landed at the Monte Carlo heliport in sight of the famous Opera House and Casino, fringed by tall palms.
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