Free Deep Sea One by Preston Child Page B

if anything was hidden in the captain's uniform. She opened the door to find the uniform hanging in the cupboard, but the captain was still inside it and Nina belted out an unearthly scream at the terrible sight, compelling Sam to jump bolt erect and look for attackers with a stupid expression of fear on his face. Only when he realized she was just startled at something did he relax. He winced at the awful emaciated corpse that appeared to have committed suicide by hanging.
    "What?" Purdue called from the other cabin.
    "Just a dead captain, Mr. Purdue." Sam called back.
    "Fuckin' hell, talk about being hung," Nina panted with her hand still firmly over her mouth while the other kept her heart from jumping out. "Gute nacht, mein herr," she clicked her heels and started closing the closet door to conceal the hideous thing, but she noticed that his left hand was locked over a brass handle fixed to the wall of the inside cupboard. Above the handle a swastika was drawn roughly in red. A symbol similar to an elongated version of the fleur-de-lisran vertically through it.
    "Sam," she said in a low voice, "Sam."
    Sam was still fighting with the rusty cabinet and he did not enjoy her insistence.
    "Yeah?" he answered in an irritated yap.
    "I have never seen this symbol before. Now, I might be overzealous to find something down here, but I think I just found something down here," she said, without taking her eyes off the drawing. Sam came to have a look.
    "You know, when they talk about Nazi art being on U-boats, I'm not sure this is what they were referring to, dearest," he remarked expertly.
    Nina slowly turned to give him a look. That look he always got when he resorted to childish mockery in the wrong company. Nina did think it was a little funny, though; but she would never let him know.
    "That handle? Any thoughts?" she asked.
    "You go for it," Sam suggested, "What if a spider jumps on my hand?"
    "Sam," Nina said plainly, with a long blink of impatience.
    "Okay, all right," he said. Reluctantly the journalist nudged the corpse aside lightly as not to dislodge him from the noose and invoke his Nazi wrath. Carefully Sam's hand approached the dead captain's hand.
    "Euw, eeuuww, oh, God," he whined, as his hand folded over the papery claw of the skeleton. He tugged at the handle. Nothing. Again he jerked at it, but it only gave a bit, spewing rusty residue onto Sam.
    "Almost there," Nina coaxed. He returned the look she gave him before and pulled with all his strength, hoping that he would not be releasing any unpleasant gasses or booby traps in the process.
    "What the hell are you two doing in here?" Purdue asked, behind them suddenly, still cloaked by the dark. Both Nina and Sam jumped at his voice and with that the little door swung open under the force of Sam's hand . . . and nerves.
    Purdue peeked over Nina's head to see what was inside. Only she could fit into the cupboard and was elected to retrieve whatever was inside. Sam pulled back his hand and allowed her to pass. With a clear word of disapproval she stepped inside next to the kapitänleutnant, whose name badge was halfway faded, but started with "Schwar . . ." and then lost the rest of his identity to time. Pulling up her shoulders she shone the beam into the small compartment which looked terrible. It was corroded inside and held what looked like a book inside a container. Nina took it out and quickly stepped away from the dead man's locker to place the container on the table.
    "What is it, Nina? What is it?" Purdue forced.
    "Hang on, I have to get a look," she said, and Sam helped with lighting.
    It was magnificent . . . and ancient. Nina gasped and Purdue sighed.
    "I venture to guess that this is a book that dates from the Middle Ages. My God, it is exquisite!" she sighed in awe. She could see that the side of the book was fashioned with a steel and silver-wrought lock and framed with the same metals to keep the leather intact. Nina shivered.
    "What is it?" Sam