Venom: A Thriller in Paradise (The Thriller in Paradise Series Book 3) by Rob Swigart

all.”
    “What kind of scientific equipment?” Chazz asked. “It could be important. If something got loose, or some chemical substance— even something innocuous, some household product, mixed with something else, maybe — spilled…” He shrugged.
    “Sampling equipment. Mainly for testing seawater. Radioactivity, salinity, turbidity, some organic chemistry. We were interested in the ecological effects of underground testing in the Tuomotus. The ship was taking regular samples, both of the water and some marine life.”
    Chazz raised his eyebrow again. He was standing now, back to the wall, arms folded across his chest. Vincent, subdued and still breathing hard, shook his head. “What’s that look?”
    “I was wondering what kind of marine life they were collecting.”
    “I don’t know. They didn’t tell me. They weren’t trained scientists, anyway, just people with a belief in stopping the rape of our planet. We are poisoning our own home, and someone has to make a scene or it won’t stop.”
    “You are saying they weren’t trained scientists, but they had scientific equipment on board, and were collecting specimens of marine life and taking radioactive measures and so on?”
    Shafton’s tone held an iron undercurrent that made Vincent bristle. “Advanced degrees aren’t everything.”
    “There were some tanks in the lounge,” Cobb said. “They had marine life in them.”
    “I’m sure,” Vincent said. “Fish, snails, that sort of thing. Small, innocuous life, endangered by governmental recklessness, not to say cynicism.”
    “No need for rhetoric here, Mr. Meissner. We are only trying to find out what killed everyone on board your vessel.” Shafton looked at Carrie again. “You’re a member of this group, are you?”
    She flushed “I don’t see what’s wrong with that. Gaia is a highly respected planetary rights advocacy group. You don’t have to be a scientist to know there’s something horribly wrong with nuclear testing, especially in the South Pacific.”
    Shafton smiled “Of course,” he murmured. “I believe I hear the engines of our tow craft, which means the vessel should be arriving soon.”
    It was fully dark out, so the confusion of lights and engines was profound. Two small craft were manhandling the larger
Ocean Mother
to a berth against the metal military pier inside the passenger docks. Here a wire fence of the most perfunctory kind was intended to keep unauthorized personnel out. At least that was what the sign said.
    “By the way, Mr. Meissner,” Cobb said in a low, confidential voice. “How many lifeboats does
Ocean Mother
carry?”
    “Two, of course. Why?”
    Cobb shrugged. “There’s only one there now,” he said, nodding to the empty davits.
    “Maybe they lost one,” Vincent suggested. “There was a storm.”
    He seemed shrunken out here, somehow smaller, and Carrie stayed close to him, drawn to his position and reputation while repelled by his presence. Two sailors clambered onto the pier and saluted. Shafton and Whipple had a brief conversation with them, and the lights and engines gradually died away to relative darkness and silence. Only the one powerful light at the end of the pier cast a harsh monochrome glare over the rusted side of the
Ocean Mother.
    The small group stood in the warm Hawaiian night and looked at the Death Ship, a name that the local paper would give her the very next morning.

SEVEN
    ANALYSIS
    Patria Koenig threw down the paper. “Death Ship! Really. They ate bad shrimp, that’s all.”
    Orli lifted her head from the blanket on the floor and started to fuss. Patria swept her daughter into her arms. “Lunchtime,” she crooned. Orli smacked her lips, rolling the lower one in and out with small grunting sounds. “Lunchtime, lunchtime.”
    Patria pulled up her tank top and offered Orli the breast. “Ooh, ooh, hoo, is that a tooth coming in there, Kiddo?” Orli rolled her deep brown eyes up at her mother and sucked