BLOW THE MAN DOWN

by

VICTOR J. BANIS

GLB Publishers e-book
©Copyright Victor J. Banis
2005

    Andy Parks was accustomed to dealing with puzzling events. He was an agent for the Secret Service and mysteries were part of his stock in trade. His assignments had more often than not involved peculiar activities in which secrecy became a way of life to him.

    Even so he found it particularly odd, on the beginning of his latest assignment, to be marching across the hot sand of one of Southern California’s numerous beaches.

    “Tell the truth, Lou,” he addressed his companion while they continued to make their way around and among the bronzed bodies that dotted the beach. “Are we really here on an assignment? Or did you just want to get away from things for a while?”

    Lou Upton grinned in a non-informative way that Andy had come to recognize. “Well, there’s no harm in combining a little pleasure with business, is there?” he asked. “Wouldn’t you rather be out here in all this sun and sand than cooped up in a dingy office somewhere?”

    “Maybe. But when I was assigned to you I got the impression this was a very hot case. I’ve been with you here in Los Angeles, for two days now and we’ve done nothing but loaf around.”

    “Why are you complaining? Lots of agents would love an assignment like this.”

    Andy grunted in annoyance. For a moment his attention was distracted as a shapely form in a bikini passed by, her ample breasts bouncing as she walked. He watched to see if the flesh would carry out its threat of escaping from the narrow confines of fabric that held it. It didn’t. Disappointed, Andy returned his attention to the subject at hand.

    “And if I may say so, we’ve been loafing in some peculiar places. I didn’t want to say anything last night when we were in that bar, The Round Up, but it was just a little on the off-beat side.”

    “Really?” Upton’s gray eyes, behind thick glasses, were wide with innocence. “It was a little seedy but I didn’t notice anything particularly strange about it.”

    “Well, you probably just wouldn’t notice this sort of thing, but, for instance, did you see any girls in the place?”

    “No, now that you mention it, I didn’t.”

    “That’s what I mean. Just a lot of guys, and rather odd guys at that. If you want my opinion, I think The Round Up is a fag hangout.” Andy delivered this opinion with a grimace of disapproval.

    Oh. Well, if you say so…personally, I never even think of those things. After all, we really were there for a purpose, even if nothing came of it.”

    “But what purpose? And how much longer are we going to hang around waiting to meet this girl, what’s her name?”

    “Jackie?” Upton’s mysterious grin returned, to Andy’s annoyance. “Oh, I think it’s all set now. It’s just that sometimes Jackie’s busy and it’s hard to make contact.”

    “Who is she anyway? One of your people or just an outside source of information?”

    “Jackie is…well, I can tell you that Jackie’s not connected with my people, although we have worked together in the past on various cases. The rest you’ll learn in due time.”

    “Say,” Andy slowed his pace and glanced around. “Where are we going, anyway? We’re at the fire pits already, and past the beach. There’s nothing down here but the oil refineries and things, if I remember from the road. Looks like we’ve missed your mystery girl again.”

    “Not yet,” Upton replied, without slowing his walk. “From the road it looks as though the beach ends at the fire pits, but actually there’s a strip of beach further down that most people don’t know about. It’s sort of a private little place.”

    “I see.” In fact, Andy did not see at all, and he was becoming increasingly annoyed by Upton’s mysterious manner. The sand was uncomfortably hot on his bare feet. Besides, there was something about being clothed in nothing more than a bathing suit that made him feel unbusinesslike.

    Not that he had any embarrassment about exposing his body. Without conceit, he was fully aware that it was a good one. He stood tall, a rangy six foot plus, and while he was not the beefy, all muscle type, his lean, hard appearance left no doubt of his strength and top condition. In an unassuming way, he was proud of his good looks: a darkly handsome face, with jet black hair that sometimes tumbled over his forehead, and piercing eyes. Since his early teens he had been used to the admiring glances that women often gave him.

    They mounted a small dune and to Andy’s surprise he saw that there was indeed another strip of beach before him, as Upton had promised. It was even more crowded than the more public beach they had left behind, and there was more to the surprise: as they hesitated briefly, he realized that all the people on this beach and splashing around in the surf, were men. Still more of a shock: they were all naked. They had come upon a “bare-ass” beach only a few yards away from one of California’s most popular beach areas.

    For a moment Andy felt nothing but surprise, and even a fleeting touch of nostalgia. As a boy he had more than once gone “skinny dipping” with the fellows, and like most men he looked back on those memories happily.

    This, however, was no swimming spot for innocent young boys. The occupants of this beach were adults, and their nudity lacked the innocent aura of such childhood frolics.

    “Christ,” he said aloud, finally comprehending. “This is a queer beach, and a nude one at that.”

    “Well, you have to admit,” Upton answered him with a grin. “It’s a perfect place for meeting someone.”

    “I don’t know…” Andy turned toward his companion. “Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

    “Removing my swimming trunks,” Upton explained, although it was obvious what he was doing. He peeled them down nonchalantly and stepped out of them, exposing an area of white, rather wide buttocks and, when he turned, a small, limp cock.

    “What for? You surely don’t think…?”

    “Don’t be a baby. After all, we’d be pretty conspicuous if we left them on, considering the way everyone else here is dressed; or undressed, rather. And in our business, the one thing we don’t want to do is look conspicuous.”

    “Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll take mine off and run around in the raw in front of all these faggots.”

    “I’m afraid you’ll have to. And what’s more, you’ll have to act perfectly natural about it, as though you did this sort of thing every day in the week.” Upton was still smiling but his voice indicated that he meant business.

    “Besides,” he added, softening his tone, “Don’t tell me it’s the first time you’ve ever let anybody see you naked. What do you have to be ashamed of? If I can show off my out of shape body, you shouldn’t hesitate for a moment.”

    Andy started to retort, and then checked himself. He was furious, but he also realized that he had been given an order, and so long as he was assigned to this case, Upton was his superior.

    Fuming silently, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his swimming suit and pulled it reluctantly downward. At least, he thought angrily, he certainly did not have anything “to be ashamed of,” as Upton had put it. He knew from watching stag films that there were bigger rods than his, but he knew he wasn’t exactly small, either. The only thing was, he just didn’t get any thrill about showing it off to guys. If only there were some girls on the beach, he might even be able to enjoy strutting around this way.

    “I just thought of something,” he said, standing erect with his trunks in his hand. “This place is filled with guys. I don’t have to have twenty-twenty vision to see that your girl isn’t here.”

    “Be patient,” Upton replied. He started forward again, apparently quite comfortable in the nude, gay beach or no. Andy swallowed hard, plastered a blank expression on his face, and went along with him. He was making an effort to ignore the glances in his direction, but Upton reminded him of them.

    “You’re being cruised,” he said in a low voice. “Being cruised, flirted with, admired. I’m not much of an expert on these things, but I would say you’re a success. A big success, actually.”

    “Thanks,” Andy said dryly. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

    They found a spot that was not too crowded and Upton spread a blanket on the ground. “May as well relax and enjoy all this sun and sand,” he said, stretching out on the blanket.

    Andy grunted and dropped down beside him. He was careful to lie on his stomach, that way exposing less of himself to the staring eyes of passersby.

    For several minutes they remained in silence. Andy cast an occasional glance up and down the beach, watching for any sign of an approaching female. He was thinking, one nice thing about all this: Upton’s agent would be naked too, and with luck she might even be nice to look at. He closed his eyes and tried envisioning various types: slim blondes, sultry brunettes, stormy redheads; and this way, he could tell right off whether the hair color was legit or not.

    His reverie created a new problem, however. He had always been a hot-blooded type, accustomed to regular, usually daily, sport in bed. He had had no sex for several days, not since he had arrived in L. A. The result was that, as he tried to contemplate enjoying female beauty without the hindrance of clothing, he found himself beginning to thrust meaningfully against the blanket.

    “That’s all I need,” he thought. “A hard-on, here.”

    “Maybe I’d better go for a dip,” he said aloud, standing. Already his size had increased a bit and he wondered if anyone would notice, and perhaps misinterpret. Without waiting for a reply from Upton, he turned and ran quickly down to the water, splashing out into the surf.

    It did feel refreshing, the water caressing his bare skin. For a moment he was again carried back to his childhood. He dived, the cool green water closing over his head. He surfaced in the path of a huge wave and before he could avoid it, he had been picked up and tossed head over heels. He came up again, sputtering and struggling to regain his balance.

    Suddenly something new had been added. It wasn’t just the water caressing his bare skin: now there was a hand on him also. It grasped his leg above the knee and, after a brief pause, moved rapidly upward. Almost before he knew what was happening, he was being groped under water.

    “Hey!” He jumped as best he could in the water and kicked out at his unseen molester. In the process he lost his balance and toppled over into the water. He landed atop his underwater attacker, and there was a scramble to separate himself from the other person.

    At last he surfaced again. At almost the same time, a blond head bobbed up beside his legs and a youthful face smiled up at him.

    “What’s the big idea?” Andy demanded, sputtering. “Keep your frigging hands off my meat.”

    “Your meat?” The blond youth’s eyes opened wide in surprise. “Was that…oh, heavens, I thought it was a moray eel. It’s so long!”

    Andy blushed and backed away another inch or two. “Very funny. Just don’t try it again or you’ll wish it were an eel.” With that he turned and tried to make a dramatic exit, a very difficult feat hip deep in water.

    To his annoyance the blond followed him, taking the easier method of swimming rather than trying to walk. Finally, he stood, directly in Andy’ path.

    “Now, really, Mr. Parks,” he said, “And I’ve been hearing how impatient you were to get acquainted with me.”

    “Get acquainted with you?” Andy was astonished. “You’re pulling my….” He stopped as the implication hit home.

    “No, I’m not, honest,” the blond assured him, lifting both hands into the air. “Maybe someone else thought it was an eel. Want me to look?”

    Andy only stared at him aghast. “Oh, no,” he managed to say hoarsely. He looked toward the beach. Upton had come down to the water’s edge and although to anyone behind him it might have looked as though he were just playing around in the water, it was clear to Andy that Upton was watching him closely.

    “Don’t tell me you’re, you aren’t…?” Andy stammered.

    The blond smiled and winked, and nodded his head. “But of course, Mr. Parks, why else do you think I’m splashing around in this dreadful water? I’m Jackie Holmes.”

    Jackie Holmes found it difficult to suppress his amusement at the reaction of Andy Parks. The handsome face of the agent was a study in confusion, shock and anger.

    “But Lou told me…that is, I thought…you’re supposed to be a girl.”

    “Well, in a manner of speaking, maybe,” Jackie agreed. “But if you want to feel around under the water, I think I can convince you.”

    “No, thanks. Look, what is this all about, anyway? If this is Upton’s idea of a gag I’ll wring his neck.”

    “La, dear, what a butch number! I don’t know when I last had men fighting over me. But I’ll tell you what, before the tournament begins, let’s ride a wave in and see what lovely Lou has to say for himself.”

    “All right. But it had better be good.” The two of them headed for the beach. Jackie deliberately let the tall agent go first, so that he could get a better look at the long lean body. For the moment Andy had forgotten about his nudity. His bare bottom dipped and rose in the water as he swam and then waded ashore. Jackie smiled. This looked like rather a promising assignment.

    Seeing them on the way in, Upton returned to his blanket. Jackie and Andy splashed ashore and Andy started at a fast pace in the direction of the waiting Upton.

    “Slow down, handsome,” Jackie said, hurrying to catch up. “You could have at least offered to take my hand, you know.”

    Andy snorted angrily and kept up his pace. Jackie shrugged and waved at Lou Upton as they approached. He had known Upton for many years and it always amused him to see Upton look so harmless and innocent. He knew that behind the thick glasses and the cool gray eyes was one of the most brilliant minds of Interpol, the international police organization. Upton’s guise of innocence didn’t fool him but it had often fooled his enemies.

    “I see you two have met,” Upton greeted them.

    “I guess you could call it that,” Jackie agreed.

    “I’ll tell you what I would call it,” Andy said. “It’s a pretty damned dirty…”

    “Careful. You’re raising your voice,” Upton interrupted him calmly and quietly, but effectively. Andy swallowed his objections, forced a less violent expression to his face, and dropped to the blanket. Jackie sat down beside him.

    “That’s better,” Upton said, flashing smiles at them.

    “Fine. Now how about telling me what this is all about. Since when have you boys started calling in the Secret Service to go on fag parties?”

    “Anti-social.” Jackie clicked his tongue. “I might have known.”

    “You’re frigging right, about some things.” It took only a warning glance from Upton to remind the Secret Service agent that he was again raising his voice.

    “We call in Secret Service agents when it’s an assignment that involves the Secret Service,” Upton explained, with no trace of sarcasm in his voice. “In this instance, we thought it did, since it affected not only national and world security, but perhaps the safety of the President.”

    That took the wind out of Andy’s sails. He looked embarrassed. “Okay,” he managed to say after a pause, “I shot off my mouth. But I think I deserve some sort of explanation.”

    “You’ll get it. You’d have gotten it sooner, except that your superiors thought that it would be best, in view of some of your opinions, not to tell you anything about the nature of the assignment until I could put all the cards on the table. And I couldn’t do that until we got in touch with Jackie here.”

    Andy grunted disdainfully. “Okay, he’s here now. I suppose he’s an informer, right?”

    “There are probably many things of which I could inform you,” Jackie said. “But I only share information, I don’t give it.”

    Upton spoke quickly, warding off another argument. “Jackie Holmes is an agent in his own right, one of the world’s best. He has worked with me before, when the circumstances were right. In this case, I think they are.”

    “Which agency?” Andy wanted to know.

    “One you’ve probably never heard of,” Upton answered, “although it’s one of the world’s biggest and most powerful. Most unique, too, I might add.”

    “What makes you think I haven’t heard of it?” Andy sounded annoyed, as though his abilities were being questioned.

    Upton shrugged. “It’s known as C.A.M.P.”

    “You’re right, I never heard of it. Whose side is C.A.M.P. on?”

    “Our own,” Jackie said. “And by that, I mean on the side of homosexuals throughout the world.”

    “On the side of…?” Andy paused. “You’re joking.”

    “Hardly.” It was Upton who answered. “C.A.M.P. is a world wide underground organization, dedicated to the protection and advancement of homosexuals.”

    “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of,” Andy exploded. “I suppose next you’re going to tell me I’m assigned to protect all the fruits in this club.”

    Jackie sighed and rolled his eyes. “But we’re so helpless,” he said in a squeaky voice.

    Upton grinned. “Hardly helpless. And don’t flatter us, Andy, we aren’t here to help them, but to ask them to help us. Apparently you have never been assigned to any, but there are cases in which homosexuality figures. At such times, it’s to our advantage to call on C.A.M.P. It’s down their alley, for one thing. For another, since they are an underground and little known group, they actually work outside the law. That’s not to say that they break the law or any such thing, but the fact is, they aren’t so tied down with regulations, red tape, and that sort of thing. That sometimes makes a tremendous difference.”

    “All right,” Andy had listened quietly and patiently. “I’ll grant that, where homosexuality is involved in a case, it’s an advantage to have a homosexual’s advice on the matter. And I gather that homosexuality has some bearing on this case. Suppose you fill us in.”

    “Gladly.” Lou Upton paused to open a tube of sun tan lotion and spread some on his bare flesh, which was already turning pink. “By the time we finish, I have a feeling I’m going to look like a lobster.”

    “Don’t worry, darling, red’s a good color for you,” Jackie assured him. His own body was already evenly tanned and he gave no thought to using the lotion.

    Upton finished and lit a cigarette and, after another pause, began to explain. “The Queen Agnes, the Columbia, and the Largo Belle. Mean anything?”

    “They’re all three ships, in the luxury liner class,” Jackie said. Then, his eyes widening, he added, “And they all sank, within the last three years. The Largo Belle went down less than a month ago, right? There were no survivors.”

    “I remember that,” Andy said. “And you’re right, now that I think of it, all three of them did go down at sea.”

    “And all three without survivors,” Upton added. “In fact, without any trace left behind. There was an oil slick near where the Columbia disappeared but nothing else. And usually, when a ship goes down there’s a lot of garbage, debris and such, floating around. Not with these three. They just disappeared from the surface of the ocean. What’s more, they disappeared within a hundred miles of one another, although of course months apart time-wise.”

    Jackie searched his mind for additional information. “That was in the Atlantic, almost half way between New York and London.”

    “Right. Perhaps I should say, that’s where they were when last heard from. The Queen Agnes just disappeared. No distress calls, no nothing. The Columbia sent a signal, saying she was going down. No explanation and no reply to further messages, just an oil slick on the water.”

    “And the Largo Belle radioed that she was on fire and sinking,” Jackie said. “But no trace was ever found of her either.”

    “Now, of course, it smacks of something more than just coincidence, even if these three were the only craft involved. But they aren’t.”

    “You’re right,” Jackie snapped his fingers. “There was that little freighter a few days ago, the Mary Sue.”

    Upton nodded. “Same general location. And, so far, no trace of the ship. Then there’s a British luxury yacht with some members of the upper crust. It left for this country two weeks ago. No one has heard from it since. Add to that a little fishing boat that set out from the Azores six weeks ago and didn’t come back.”

    “I think I’m beginning to see where I come in,” Andy said. “You’re thinking of the Summit Cruise, right?”

    “Right. In less than two weeks, the President and Britain’s Prime Minster will be setting out for an ocean cruise type high level conference, which will last through the entire transoceanic sailing. And the route takes them right through the area in which all these vessels have vanished.”

    Jackie whistled faintly under his breath. “Well, I’ll admit that it’s one hell of a good mystery, and a pretty big one. But frankly, I don’t see where C.A.M.P. comes in.”

    “Neither did I, at first,” Upton said. “It fact, it wasn’t until the third of the big ships, The Largo Belle, disappeared, that Interpol was even called in. Then, when we started investigating, we added the others to the list. And the interesting thing was the homosexual element that began to creep into the report. The captain of the Queen Agnes was fairly well known as a homosexual.”

    “A ship’s captain?” Andy was incredulous. “It’s hard to believe that a man of that stature could be a fairy. It’s such a manly profession.”

    Jackie laughed dryly. “Sweets, did you ever hear of a cabin girl?” he asked. Without waiting for a reply he turned back to Upton. “Uninformed opinions to the contrary, I don’t see anything significant about that bit of information. Not all homosexuals are dressmakers and wig burners.”

    “Agreed. And I thought little of it at first. But then came a report on the captain of the Columbia. It didn’t exactly say he was a homosexual, but it hinted broadly. And the description of his first mate included very specific information regarding his apparently excessive physical endowments. And that information came not from females but from a long list of male playmates. He was, as the saying goes, as gay as pink ink.”

    “I use lavender myself. But it could still be coincidence, unless you’re going to tell me…?”

    Upton nodded solemnly. “The Largo Belle had a belle for a captain. Some of the passengers ate at the captain’s table, others in the captain’s cabin.”

    “Sounds to me like the mystery is solved,” Andy said. “Fairies are known to be pretty scatterbrained, to say nothing of irresponsible. Any company that would trust a ship to a fag captain shouldn’t be too surprised to lose the ship.”

    “The fact that a man goes down on his ship doesn’t make him irresponsible,” Jackie countered sharply.

    “As a matter of fact, all these men had fine records,” Upton said. “The captain of the Largo Belle was a war hero. No, there’s something more serious here than just the thoughtlessness of three homosexuals—four actually. As of the last word, the captain of that freighter might have been the same way.”

    “Then you think there’s some sort of plot?” Jackie thought about this for a moment. “Anything else to support that theory?”

    “Nothing concrete. I’ll have the entire report transferred to you, of course, if you want to take on the case. But we did turn up one other significant matter. All of these men were having problems related to their homosexuality. The evidence is insufficient as yet, but there is reason to suspect one of the men was being blackmailed. The last one, the captain of the Largo Belle, had been warned to cool it or face the loss of his ship. And the captain of the Queen Agnes was being divorced by his wife over one of his homosexual flings.”

    “Blackmail, possibly,” Jackie said. “You’re right, it sounds like something highly organized. Maybe a pirate operation.”

    “If that’s the case, then the loot should be showing up by now,” Andy said. “Have you checked that angle?”

    “Extensively, but with no results, unless everything is just being stored up for disposal later. We thought of kidnapping too, but of course by this time some of the families would have been contacted, and no one has been so far as we can determine. No, the motives behind the mystery are completely unknown at this time. But we know that something is happening to ships crossing the ocean. They are being sunk, or stolen, or something. We know that there’s a homosexual element to the case. And of course, with the Summit Cruise drawing near, it now not only involves international police facilities, but U.S. and British security as well. Our agency and the U.S. and British agencies involved, have been given unqualified orders: solve the mystery and solve it fast. That’s where you come in, Andy. My orders were to brief you on the case and put you to work on it. And I was to try to interest C.A.M.P. in working on it with us.” He turned to Jackie. “What do you think, is it a job for C.A.M.P.?”

    “I’ll have to clear it with High Camp, of course, but I think they’ll give me the go ahead,” Jackie answered. He moved as though to stand, thinking that the meeting was over. Upton put out a restraining hand.

    “There’s something more, Jackie,” Upton said. “Something that concerns you personally. I wanted to wait until you had decided for yourself about the case. I didn’t want to use it to influence your decision.”

    He reached for the canvas flight bag he had carried with him across the beach. “The last ship that went down, the Largo Belle, we did find something in the water, near where it supposedly went down. I can’t actually say that it was debris from the ship, except I don’t know why else it should have been floating around in the middle of the ocean.”

    From the canvas bag he removed a small white package. It was box-like, about six inches square, and made of a white plastic substance that gleamed in the sunlight as though it were porcelain.

    “What is it?” Andy asked.

    Jackie said nothing, but his hands were shaking as he took the white box from Upton. He recognized it at once, even before he ran his finger over the glistening surface. It looked fragile and delicate, but he knew from past experience that the substance from which the box was made was a special formula, harder than steel, and paper light.

    The seal that had held it closed was broken. Jackie knew already what was inside. Nonetheless, his face carefully expressionless, he lifted the lid.

    Inside, on a nest of white velvet, lay two roses, large, perfectly formed, and as black as ebony. The seal, which had made the package literally airtight, had also kept the flowers fresh, and would have done so, as Jackie knew, for years. Apparently the seal had been broken only a short time, for the flowers had not yet begun to wilt. They lay like gems carved by a master artist.

    “Flowers?” Andy asked, looking over Jackie’s shoulder. “And black roses at that. Come to think of it, I’ve never heard of black roses, not really black.”

    Jackie spoke in a monotone, his eyes glued to the flowers. “They came from the jungles of Brazil, from the laboratory of the one man who could grow them. Others have tried to duplicate them, but no one else has ever succeeded. The natives of the jungle say that the man fed the soil with his own blood to produce these.”

    “Jesus, he must have been some kind of nut,” Andy said.

    Jackie smiled, not an amused expression but one of sad remembrance. “His skin was black, like these flowers. His voice was silver and crystal. His soul was golden.”

    “Who was he anyway?”

    Jackie lifted his eyes at last, although he did not look at Andy. He was looking at Upton, and he saw the understanding sympathy in the face of the older agent. “They called him Rose.”

    “Rose?” Andy repeated. “That’s a hell of a name for a man.”

    “Black Rose, actually,” Jackie said, closing the box once again. “And he was a hell of a man.”

    He stood, still holding the box, and brushed the sand from his legs. “Don’t worry, Lou, I’ll be working this case. I’ll contact you, Andy, when I’ve got a lead.”

    Since receiving the box from Upton, Jackie had remained business like and sober, unlike the flippant image he had projected initially. Now, as he started away across the sand, he turned to wave a limp wrist.

    Ta da, dears,” he called and then he was gone.

    “What was that all about?” Andy asked finally. “I mean, the bit with the flowers, and this Rose guy.”

    “You haven’t been around gay people much, have you?”

    “No more than necessary.”

    Upton sighed. He had dreaded the moment when he would have to give the package to Jackie. Now that it was done, he was in no mood for conversation; but he still owed Andy explanations, particularly since Andy would be working closely with Jackie.

    “Rose, that’s truly the only name I know for the man. He was little more than a child, a savage from the jungles of Brazil, I understand, when he first came to this country. He was brought here by another man, someone apparently who loved him, and whom Rose loved enough to leave his jungle for.”

    “Two guys, in love with one another?” Andy sneered. “Come on. That’s hard to take. Oh, I know they swing with one another, but love?”

    Upton shrugged. “It may be hard for someone like you or me to understand, but that’s beside the point. They came here, to California, in fact. The white man who brought him here had sensed that Rose had a brilliant mind, although an untrained one. He was right, too. Rose took to education like a duck to water. No need to go into all the details, suffice to say that by the time he had reached adulthood he was a highly skilled botanist, working in his friend’s laboratory. He brought with him knowledge of plants from the jungle that no one else had ever heard of, and with them he apparently worked miracles, curing all kinds of diseases and such.”

    “How come I never heard of him, then?”

    “This was all pure research, much of it experimental, the kind of reputation that’s known only in the very inner circles of the scientific society. Had he stayed and continued his work, I have no doubt that you would have long since heard of him. Even then, there was talk of a Nobel.”

    “Why didn’t he stay, then?” Andy helped himself to one of Lou’s cigarettes.

    “Brilliant minds are sometimes naïve when it comes to societal matters. Or else Rose’s friend never got around to explaining certain things about our society. Whatever it was, the two of them went on a trip. They were driving, to New Orleans, through the Southern states.”

    “Oh. And they had racial problems?”

    “Yes. I don’t know just where. Some little town where they stopped. They were towing a trailer, so they just pulled off the road in a lane and bedded down to sleep. Someone had seen them, though, a white man and a Negro traveling together. Rose and his friend were, well, they weren’t asleep yet, let’s put it that way, when some masked men broke into the trailers. I don’t know all the details, except it must have been quite a fight. When it was over, three men were dead. One of them was Rose’s friend. The trailer was burned. Rose was never found, and their acquaintances assumed he was dead too.”

    “Only he had gotten away,” Andy guessed. “And he went back to Brazil, right?”

    “Right. That was where Jackie met him, when he was sent there by C.A.M.P. on an assignment. Among other talents, Jackie is one of the world’s foremost botanical experts. He found Rose there. Rose was like a god to the natives. He had brought all his education and his scientific knowledge back with him, wedded now to his knowledge of the plants of the jungle. The natives came from hundreds of miles through the jungles for his magic healing powers.”

    “I get it. They were lovers, Rose and Jackie.”

    “Yes, they were lovers. I don’t know what it was like for Rose, but I can say with certainty, Jackie Holmes never felt the love for anyone else that he felt for this strange dark giant from Brazil’s deepest jungle.

    “But they lived in different worlds, you see. Jackie was dedicated to C.A.M.P. and its causes, and Rose refused to leave his jungle again. Oh, he came out, for supplies, for brief trips to various parts of the world, on the trail of new discoveries. And they met, brief little moments together.

    “Then, Rose disappeared again. The jungle where he lived is savage and primitive, you see. Jackie was one of a rare handful of white men who had ever been into that part of the interior. He went there on a trip especially to see his friend, but there was no trace of him. A tribal war, perhaps, or something of that nature. The laboratory was gone, burned to the ground. Jackie was informed that the Miracle Man had returned to his home in the sun.”

    “But those flowers, I thought no one else could grow them like that?”

    “Exactly. And it’s been five years since Rose disappeared. That package could keep the flowers fresh for two, maybe three years, but not for five.”

    “Then this guy is still alive.”

    “Is, or was, before that ship disappeared.”

    “I see.” Andy put his cigarette out in the sand. “Well, I don’t care what this guy’s motive is for working on the case. Mine is to protect the President. If finding out what happened to Rose is the way to do it, I guess that’s what I’ll have to do.”

    Upton said nothing, but as they were gathering their things preparatory to leaving, he stole a glance at the handsome young Secret Service man. Andy’s manner had remained gruff and callous, but something in his tone had changed. Upton wondered, with a silent smile, if maybe Andy hadn’t been just a little touched by the story of Black Rose.

    He hoped so, actually. Agents working together on a case literally shared one another’s lives. It would be easier, as he well knew from past experience, if they had at least a little rapport between them. And if it developed into something more, well, that wasn’t his business, that was Andy and Jackie’s. For himself, he had worked on cases with Jackie before. The first time, several years ago, he too had been bitter about being ordered to work with a homosexual.

    But later, he hadn’t minded so much.

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