The Saboteurs Clive Cussler (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📖

for her. That’s why she was with her husband. Despite the fancy-sounding name, Whittier wasn’t someone her family would have chosen. He was an act of defiance just like her coming to Panama was. Her father obviously indulged her—otherwise, she wouldn’t be here—but that must be coming to an end.

The old man doubtlessly wanted an heir for his insulator company sooner rather than later.

Whittier Webb added, “Unfortunately, there are no suitable boats back to the States from Colón. Plenty of ships heading to Barbados and Jamaica to bring workers back to their home islands at the end of their contracts, but they just won’t do. We’re stuck here until a ship from the North Star Line arrives.”

Leibinger-Holte said, “For myself, I will take the first ship sailing away and not remain in Panama one day longer than necessary. The rain is miserable and the heat intolerable, and I have seen spiders as large as a dinner plates.” He shuddered theatrically.

“Not to mention the snakes,” Felix Ramirez added.

Court Talbot leaned forward, to make sure everyone was listening, and said, “A few years ago, I was on the Chagres River as it was subsiding following a late-summer flood. We were in a dugout canoe that wasn’t very stable and we wanted to stay close to the riverbank, where the current was more stable. The problem was the floodwaters had driven all the snakes in the area into the trees. Every tree was wreathed in them, enormous coils of them, thousands upon thousands, hanging over our heads as we veered toward shore.

“Ones that lost their perches fell into the water and either swam to another tree or drowned. For a time, it looked like it was actually raining snakes, so many of them fell from the branches. Some that dropped close enough tried to slither into our dugout. We had to beat them back with our paddles. One bushmaster viper—they’re poisonous, mind you—had to have been twelve feet long and as big around as my arm. I’d never seen a more disturbing sight in my life.”

This time, everyone shuddered involuntarily with revulsion.

Juliet turned to her husband. “I take back my earlier reluctance to leave. I have no desire to see a snake storm. Let’s go home.”

The others at the table started discussing the hardships of living in Panama and didn’t hear her say to Whit, “This means we’ll never solve the mystery of the humming clouds either.”

Only Bell seemed to have heard her statement. “Excuse me, Mrs. Webb, but what are humming clouds?”

“Oh, it’s something our guide to old Panama City told us about. Jorge is his name. The hotel arranged it for us. He’s a retired teacher. He says it’s a phenomenon that some villagers on the other coast have discovered. They say that at night they can hear clouds humming in the sky. He’d never heard of such a thing before.”

Court Talbot had caught her story and said, “I bet it’s connected to the filling of the Gatun reservoir. I’ve spoken with geologists who say the weight of that much water will actually deform the land underneath it. I imagine submerged pockets of swamp gas being expelled under pressure are the cause of the humming.”

“That makes sense,” Whit said, nodding to his wife for her agreement.

“I suppose,” she said, slowly warming to the idea. “Truth is, I was hoping for a less mundane answer. It sounds so fantastic, you know?”

Bell said, “That’s why you thought being a detective is interesting. You have a strong imagination and you want to believe there is something fascinating amid the everyday.”

“I can’t believe none of you are talking about the other big story of the day,” Tats said.

“What other story?” Court asked him.

“It will doubtlessly be out in tomorrow’s paper. Your former President Roosevelt is planning on stopping in Panama on his way to South America to see the canal’s progress for himself.”

Marion had been with Isaac long enough to never react to news that had even an indirect connection to a case he was working, so she didn’t move even a muscle when the very reason he was on this case was blown wide open in public.

Outwardly, Bell also remained unmoved by the bombshell revelation even as, inside, he was seething with rage over the stupidity of politicians who didn’t understand that secrecy was their first line of defense against assassination plots, and old TR should know more than most since he’d been the victim of one himself.

They managed to stay for one more drink before Bell and his wife excused themselves and returned to their room upstairs. It took a good bit of his will not to slam the door, the rest not to raise his voice.

“I can’t believe he’d do something so reckless,” Bell said. “The Republican Party hired Van Dorn to sit in on Senator Densmore’s Panama briefing to report back to them my thoughts on the situation down here on the chance—chance, mind you—that Roosevelt would want to see the canal on his way to Brazil. Now the bloody fool has announced to the world and Viboras Rojas that he’s coming.”

“To be fair, Isaac, Teddy doesn’t know the Republicans want him to run for President again under their banner. So he knew nothing of your investigation.”

“He has to be aware there’s an insurgency. The attack on Densmore made headlines across the country. Van Dorn has probably spoken with him as well.” Bell took a breath. “Come to think of it, knowing there’s an additional element of danger is likely why he’s coming. The man’s never backed away from a challenge in his life.”

Marion could see her husband was regaining his composure and said, “As I’m sure you remember, he gave a ninety-minute speech after being shot two years ago.”

“He was campaigning for President then and had bodyguards who foiled the assassin’s aim. As an ex-President, he no longer has protection, and now there’s a whole guerrilla army potentially gunning for him.”

“Oh, Isaac, what are you going to do?”

“Ask again that