THE SECRET CRYPT 125
A long, shiny black limousine was waiting to pick up the boys, with a uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. He drove them along the Quai des Etats-Unis, bordering the beautiful harbor. It was enclosed by a white stone jetty and crowded with yachts flying the flags of many nations.
“Where’s the Oceanographic Museum?” Tom asked.
“On that headland across the harbor, sir. The Royal Palace and government buildings are over there, too. That is Monaco-Ville, the capital.”
Tom expressed a desire to visit the museum, and also to meet its director, the famous undersea explorer, Captain Cousteau.
“I am sure Monsieur Vaxilis would be happy to arrange it, sir,” the chauffeur murmured.
The car headed up into the gray-green hills above Monte Carlo. Presently it passed through a tall iron gateway and stopped before a huge pink villa surrounded by poplars and mimosa.
A courtly-looking man in a white suit, with graying dark hair, came out to meet them. “I am Petrov Vaxilis. Welcome to my home, gentlemen.”
Tom noticed that their host spoke with an Oxford accent. Vaxilis explained that he had been educated in England and spent a great deal of time there. The boys were shown to a guest room with twin beds. Then their host guided them around his beautiful gardens until a butler announced dinner.
As they were eating, Vaxilis remarked casually 126 AQUATOMIC TRACKER
to Tom, “I understand you are supervising the salvage of the Centurion. A most challenging assignment, I should imagine.”
Tom merely smiled. “Challenging, yes. But possibly hopeless, wouldn’t you say?”