Читать книгу Morning, Noon and Night - Сидни Шелдон, Sidney Sheldon - Страница 11

At sea, later that evening, Captain Vacarro came to Harry Stanford’s stateroom.

‘Signor Stanford …’

‘Yes?’

The captain pointed to the electronic map on the wall. ‘I’m afraid the winds are getting worse. The libeccio is centered in the Strait of Bonifacio. I would suggest that we take shelter in a harbor until –’

Stanford cut him short. ‘This is a good ship, and you’re a good captain. I’m sure you can handle it.’

Captain Vacarro hesitated. ‘As you say, signor. I will do my best.’

‘I’m sure you will, captain.’

Harry Stanford sat in the office of his suite, planning his strategy. He would meet René in Corsica and get everything straightened out. After that, the helicopter would fly him to Naples, and from there he would charter a plane to take him to Boston. Everything is going to be fine, he decided. All I need is forty-eight hours. Just forty-eight hours.

He was awakened at 2 A.M. by the wild pitching of the yacht and a howling gale outside. Stanford had been in storms before, but this was one of the worst. Captain Vacarro had been right. Harry Stanford got out of bed, holding on to the nightstand to steady himself, and made his way to the wall map. The ship was in the Strait of Bonifacio. We should be in Ajaccio in the next few hours, he thought. Once we’re there, we’ll be safe.

The events that occurred later that night were a matter of speculation. The papers strewn around the veranda suggested that the strong wind had blown some of the others away, and that Harry Stanford had tried to retrieve them, but because of the pitching yacht he had lost his balance and fallen overboard. Dmitri Kaminsky saw him fall into the water and immediately grabbed the intercom.

‘Man overboard!’