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Pitt endured a thorough physical examination before he was allowed lunch。 The physician pronounced him fit； pumped him full of high…potency vitamins； and prescribed an early bedtime before Pitt's drowsy mind turned to mush。
A tall； high…cheekboned woman with braided hair was assigned as his nursemaid； escorting him to the proper room at the proper time。 She introduced herself as Alice； no surname； no title。 She wore a soft tan suit over a lace blouse。 Pitt thought her rather pretty and found himself wondering what she would look like curled up on satin sheets。
〃Mr。 Brogan has arranged for you to eat in the executive dining room；〃 she said in perfect tour…guide fashion。 〃We'll take the elevator。〃
Pitt suddenly remembered something。 〃I'd like the use of a telephone。〃
〃Sorry； not possible。〃
〃Mind if I ask why？〃
〃Have you forgotten you're supposed to be dead？〃 Alice asked matter…of…factly。 〃One phone call to a friend or a lover and you could blow the entire operation。〃
〃Yes； ‘The slip of a lip may sink a ship；' 〃 Pitt said cynically。 〃Look； I need some information from a total stranger。 I'll hand him a phony name。
〃Sorry； not possible。〃
A scratched phonograph record came to Pitt's mind。 〃Give me a phone or I'll do something nasty〃
She looked at him quizzically。 〃Like what？〃
〃Go home；〃 he said simply。
〃Mr。 Brogan's orders。 You're not to leave the building until your flight to our camp in San Salvador。 He'd have you in a straitjacket before you reached the front door。〃
Pitt hung back as they walked down a hallway。 Then he suddenly turned and entered an anteroom whose door was unmarked。 He calmly walked past a startled secretary and entered the inner office。 A short man with cropped white hair； a cigarette dangling from his lips； and making strange markings on a graph； looked up in amused surprise。
Pitt flashed his best politician's smile and said； 〃I beg your pardon； may I borrow your phone？〃
〃If you work here； you know that using an unauthorized phone is against agency regulations。〃
〃Then I'm safe；〃 said Pitt。 〃I don't work here。〃
〃You'll never get an outside line；〃 said old White Hair。
〃Watch me。〃
Pitt picked up the phone and asked the operator for Martin Brogan's office。 In a few seconds Brogan's private secretary came on the line。
〃My name is Dirk Pitt。 Please inform Mr。 Brogan that if I don't get the use of a telephone in one minute I'm going to cause a terrible scene。〃
〃Who is this？〃
〃I told you。〃
Pitt was obstinate。 Stoutly refusing to take no for an answer； it took him another twenty minutes of cursing； shouting； and generally being obnoxious before Brogan consented to a call outside the building； but only if Alice stood by and monitored the conversation。
She showed him to a small private office and pointed to the phone。 〃We have an internal operator standing by。 Give her your number and she'll put it through。〃
Pitt spoke into the receiver。 〃Operator； what's your name？〃
〃Jennie Murphy；〃 replied a sexy voice。
〃Jennie； let's start with Baltimore information。 I'd like the number of Weehawken Marine Products。〃
〃Just a sec。 I'll get it for you。〃
Jennie got the number from the Baltimore information operator and placed the call。
After explaining his problem to four different people； Pitt was finally connected to the executive chairman of the board a title generally bestowed on old pany heads who were eased out of the corporate mainstream。
〃I'm Bob Conde。 What can I do for you？〃
Pitt looked at Alice and winked。 〃Jack Farmer； Mr。 Conde。 I'm with a federal archeological survey and I've discovered an old diving helmet in a shipwreck I hope you might identify。〃
〃I'll do my best。 My grandfather started the business nearly eighty years ago。 We've kept fairly tight records。 Have you got a serial number？〃
〃Yes； it was on a data plate attached to the front of the breastplate。〃 Pitt closed his eyes and visualized the helmet on the corpse inside the Cyclops。 〃It read； 'Weehawken Products； Inc。； Mark V； Serial Number 58…67…C。' 〃
〃The Navy standard diving helmet；〃 Conde said without hesitation。 〃We've been making them since 1916。 Constructed of spun copper with bronze fittings。 Has four sealed glass viewports。〃
〃You sold it to the Navy？〃
〃Most of our orders came from the Navy。 Still do； as a matter of fact。 The Mark V； Mod 1 is still popular for certain types of surface…supplied…air diving operations。 But this helmet was sold to a mercial customer。〃
〃If you'll forgive me for asking； how do you know？〃
〃The serial number。 Fifty…eight is the year it was manufactured。 Sixty…seven is the number produced； and C stands for mercial sale。 In other words； it was the sixty…seventh helmet to e out of our factory in 1958 and was sold to a mercial salvage pany。〃
〃Any chance of digging back and finding who bought it？〃
〃Might take a good half hour。 We haven't bothered putting the old records on puter disks。 I'd better call you back。〃
Alice shook her head。
〃The government can afford the phone service； Mr。 Conde。 I'll hang on the line。〃
〃Suit yourself。〃
Conde was as good as his word。 He came back in thirty…one minutes。 〃Mr。 Farmer； one of the bookkeepers found what you were looking for。〃
〃I'm ready。〃
〃The helmet along with a diving suit and hose equipment were sold to a private individual。 Coincidentally； I knew him。 Name was Hans Kronberg。 A diver from the old school。 Caught the bends more than anybody I ever knew。 Hans was badly crippled； but it never stopped him from diving。〃
〃Do you know what became of him？〃
〃As I recall； he purchased the equipment for a salvage job somewhere around Cuba。 Rumor was the bends finally put him away for good。〃
〃You don't remember who hired him？〃
〃No； it was too long ago；〃 said Conde。 〃I think he found himself a partner who had a few bucks。 Hans's regular diving gear was old and worn。 His suit must have had fifty patches on it。 He worked hand to mouth； barely earned enough to make a decent living。 Then one day he walks in here； buys all new equipment； and pays cash。〃
〃I appreciate your help；〃 said Pitt。
〃Not at all。 Glad you called。 Interesting you should call。 May I ask where you found his helmet？〃
〃Inside an old steel wreck near the Bahamas。〃
Conde got the picture。 He was quiet for a moment。 Then he said； 〃So old Hans never surfaced。 Well； I guess he would have preferred it to passing away in bed。〃
〃Can you think of anyone else who might remember Hans？〃
〃Not really。 All the hard…hat divers from the old days are gone now。 The only lead I can think of is Hans's widow。 She still sends me Christmas cards。 She lives in a rest home。〃
〃Do you know the name of the rest home or where it's located？〃
〃I believe it's in Leesburg； Virginia。 Haven't a clue to the name。 Speaking of names； hers is Hilda。〃
〃Thank you； Mr。 Conde。 You've been a great help。〃
〃If you're ever in Baltimore； Mr。 Farmer； drop in and say hello。 Got plenty of time to talk about the old days since my sons aced me out of the pany helm。〃
〃I'd like that；〃 said Pitt。 〃Go