Read Online Death on the Mississippi by Richard; Forrest - Free Book Online Page B

strained to hold the anchor rope that kept the inflated balloon earthbound. Lyon climbed into the wicker basket and reached overhead to pull the propane release lever to give the burner a five-second burst of flame. He signaled his wife and she let go of the anchor rope.
    The balloon immediately bounced vertically into the air as Lyon coiled the anchor rope neatly in the boot of the gondola. Buoyed by a full complement of hot air, the balloon rose noiselessly without the necessity of further propane burns.
    He found the ascent exhilarating as he had countless times before. At twenty-one-hundred feet it began to slow and bob, and he gave a short tug on the burner lever to maintain that altitude. The wind was from the east, and the balloon began to drift slowly along the meandering course of the Connecticut River.
    He leaned his elbows on the basket rail while the binoculars hanging from his neck swayed gently in the craft’s slight movement. The river, two thousand feet below, curved gently as it wound its way from the Atlantic Ocean to the Canadian border. The riverbanks between the two bridges were largely bracketed by wooded hills that rose abruptly from the shore. There were only a few open fields or launching ramps where the large Mississippi could have been winched ashore.
    It had been two days since the meeting in Rocco’s office. During that time, both the Murphysville Police and state cruisers had been busy. Police cars had driven down every road in the area that led to the river or that ran parallel to the water. Using Corps of Engineers charts, the Coast Guard had made soundings, and on several occasions dropped scuba divers into the water to investigate promising leads.
    The Coast Guard was now convinced that the houseboat had not been scuttled in this section of the river, and they had called off their search. State and local police were equally certain that the Mississippi had not been lifted ashore, hidden, or trucked from the area.
    Lyon was puzzled at the impossible situation. Objects as large and cumbersome as the Mississippi did not disappear. It was as if the boat had been dematerialized or snatched from the water’s surface by some unknown power.
    Was it possible that it had been hoisted aloft? He had read of large work helicopters that were capable of lifting huge loads on steel cables. Could Dalton have arranged …
    Basic mathematics precluded the possibility. To fly an object as large as the Mississippi would require a machine of impossible size.
    The bridge operators, their logs, and other sources all agreed that the only two large vessels seen on the river the night of the disappearance were a sailing ship and a coastal tanker. Neither craft was large enough to have winched all or part of the Mississippi aboard.
    If the houseboat hadn’t been sunk, hidden along the waterfront, or trucked from the area, what had happened to it? Arthur Conan Doyle wrote, in “A Study in Scarlet,” that, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”
    There was one improbable possibility to be explored.
    Lyon excitedly snatched the walkie-talkie clipped to the gondola’s side and switched it on. “Hello, chase car. Wobbly is ready to descend.”
    The other radio crackled a moment before Bea’s voice transmitted clearly. “Glad to hear it, Wobbly . The State Senate would very much like to go into session this afternoon.”
    â€œI see a large open field directly beneath me on your side of the river,” Lyon said. “I will pull my ripping panel for a rapid descent. Over.”
    â€œDon’t, Wobbly !” Bea shouted. “Don’t pull the panel … Uh-oh, you’ve already done it. You are about to drop in on Victorian Acres, Wentworth. Lots of luck. Out.”
    Lyon glanced at the corner of the basket to make sure that the bottle of champagne was intact. Due to the haphazard nature of