Chapter Four
An enormous Sea Stallion helicopter thundered across the ocean. There was no land at either horizon. The Keldysh was visible in the distance.
Rose's face was visible, looking out calmly.
Brock and Bodine were watching Mir 2 being swung over the side to start a dive. Bodine clearly wasn't happy.
"She's a goddamned liar! Some nut case seeking money or publicity—God only knows what! Like that Russian babe, Anesthesia!"
Buell gestured to them. "They're inbound."
Brock nodded and the three of them headed forward to meet the approaching helicopter.
Bodine wasn't giving up. "Rose DeWitt Bukater died on the Titanic when she was seventeen. If she had lived, she'd be over a hundred by now."
Lovett wasn't giving up, either. "A hundred and one next month."
"Okay, so she's a very old goddamned liar. Look, I did the background on this woman going back to the twenties, when she was working as an actress...an actress! There's your first clue, Sherlock! Her name was Rose Dawson then. Then she marries a guy named Calvert, they move to Cedar Rapids, and she punches out a couple of kids. Now Calvert's dead, and from what I hear Cedar Rapids is dead."
The Sea Stallion approached the ship, forcing Brock to yell over the rotors.
"And everyone who knows about the diamond is supposed to be dead...or on this ship. But she knows!"
In a thundering down blast the helicopter's wheels bounced down the helipad.
Lovett, Buell, and Bodine watched as the helicopter crew chief handed out about ten suitcases, and then Keldysh crewmen lowered Rose to the deck in a wheelchair. Lizzy, ducking unnecessarily under the rotor, followed her out, carrying Freddy the Pomeranian. The crew chief handed a puzzled Lovett a goldfish bowl with several fish in it.
The little old lady looked impossibly fragile amongst all the high tech gear, grungy deck crew, and gigantic equipment.
Bodine shouted to Lovett.
"Doesn't exactly travel light, does she?"
*****
Lizzy was unpacking Rose's things in the small, utilitarian room. Rose was placing a number of framed photographs on the bureau, arranging them carefully next to the fishbowl. Brock and Bodine were in the doorway.
Brock spoke up. "Is your stateroom all right?"
Rose smiled. "Yes. Very nice. Have you met my granddaughter, Lizzy? She takes care of me."
Lizzy responded. "We met up on deck just as few minutes ago, Nana. Remember?"
Rose brushed her fingers against the top of her head. "Oh, yes."
Brock glanced at Bodine. Bodine rolled his eyes. Rose finished arranging her photographs—pictures of her children and grandchildren, her late husband.
"There, that's nice. I have to have my pictures when I travel."
"Would you like anything? Is there anything I can get you?" Brock asked.
Rose looked up at him. "Yes. I would like to see my drawing."