The flares sputtered out, and all was quiet once more on the water. Suddenly the beam from the lighthouse slanted up to its normal position, then began to revolve slowly in its familiar fashion.
“Well, folks,” the Coast Guard lieutenant said, coming up behind them, “show’s over for tonight.”
“And a real show it was,” Teena’s father said admiringly. “That was some display of teamwork.”
“All part of our training,” the officer said, obviously pleased the way things had turned out. “We keep the wheels greased. When they have to turn, they turn smoothly.”
“Tonight’s proof positive of that,” Mr. Taylor complimented.
“My instructions,” the young officer said, “are to escort you to the Coast Guard depot. Those taken into custody should be there by the time we arrive. You may have a few questions to ask.”
Teena and Eddie rode with the lieutenant in the gray sedan with “U.S. Coast Guard” printed on its doors. Their fathers followed in Mr. Taylor’s car. Gates opened as they entered the Coast Guard depot a while later. They were escorted into a large briefing room.
Within two hours the investigation was complete enough to draw some firm conclusions. Mr. Evans, of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and a Captain Foster, of the U.S. Coast Guard, stood before the group. There were many strange faces in the room. Some of the men were in uniform; some were not. Eddie supposed most of them were government or police officials of some kind.
Under close guard over to one side of the room were two dozen or more men. They were all strangers. Their uniforms, although of a seaman’s variety, were completely unfamiliar to Eddie.
There were also several men in civilian clothing being held under guard. Among them Eddie saw the two unlucky fishermen he had come to know as Harvey Simms and Roy Benton. They scowled darkly at him. Eddie scowled back.