Chapter 1



Although he'd read the report a hundred times since the California Clipper left New York, he still couldn't understand how such a horrible death could have happened to one of his closest friends. A distraught Curtis Westbrook, the senior line-pilot for Pan American Airways System, sat on the edge of the bunk in the crew's quarters of the huge Boeing flying boat now approaching Lisbon Harbor for landing. His deep-set blue eyes scanned once again a report from the Lisbon Police sent to Pan American's headquarters in New York. Finishing the report, he summarized what had happened to Phineas Holloran, Captain of the Yankee Clipper: Whoever had murdered him had first bound him, then stabbed him in the groin with a sharp instrument. After he had bled to death, the murderer threw his body into the river. When found, his body was bloated and disfigured from bites and sting marks inflicted by the creatures of the Tagus. Why in hell did they even have to mention that? The police say they have no clues or motive for the killing. Westbrook noticed the signature of 'Joseph Gasparo' as the author of the report. His title, typed below his signature, was 'Chief Inspector of the Lisbon Police Department.'

Westbrook made a mental note to call Gasparo for an appointment as soon as he got to the hotel. Feeling a light bump and the deceleration of the aircraft as it landed on the choppy waters, Westbrook promised himself the answers would be found. He glanced at his watch and calculated it was 1600 local time. Peering out the port hole several minutes after landing, Westbrook saw the mooring detail securing the Clipper to the pier. Standing up and stretching his tall frame, he ran his hand through his dark silver streaked wavy hair. After knotting his black tie and putting on his uniform coat, he tucked the police report into his inside coat pocket. Passing through the Control Cabin, he retrieved his suitcase from the crew's closet, opened the cockpit door, and bid the flight deck crew goodby. Westbrook had been dispatched to Lisbon to bring the Yankee Clipper home. As he deplaned, Westbrook remembered Holloran as a jovial Irishman, ready to share his love of flying in the company of friends; around strangers, however, he was guarded and shy. Based on what he had read in the police report he thought his murder unusually cruel and senseless. Phineas had no enemies. He was a great guy who minded his own business. Who the hell could've done this sort of thing?

Both of the huge seaplanes were moored about fifty yards apart at the modern Cabo Ruivo Airport, the water facility Pan American leased on the Tagus. It was the largest seaplane facility in the world.

Excerpted from Murder in Lisbon. Copyright © 2000 by Sidney F. Davis. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author.

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