Santorini

6

The Angelina, to put it at its most kindly, was a rather striking-looking craft. An eighty-tonner built of pinewood from the forests of the island of Samos, she had a dazzling white hull which contrasted strongly – some would have said violently – with her vermilion gunwale. Wide of beam and low in the water amidships, she had a pronounced flare aft and for’ard, a curved stem that projected high above the gunwale. As a sailing boat, she was well equipped with a standing-lug main and balance-lug foresail, together with two jibs. Had it been left at that, as she had originally been built, the Angelina, a typical example of the Tehandiri class, would not only have been striking but downright handsome. Unfortunately, it had not been left at that.

The owner, Professor Wotherspoon, although a self-avowed traditionalist, was also strongly attached to his creature comforts. Not content with converting the craft’s very considerable hold – it was, after all, originally constructed as a cargo vessel – into cabins and bathrooms, he had constructed on the deck a bridge, saloon and galley which, while admittedly functional, detracted notably from the overall æsthetic effect.

Shortly before ten o’clock in the morning, the Angelina, almost slack-sailed and ghosting along under a Meltemi that hardly rated as a zephyr, tied up along the starboard side of the Ariadne. Talbot, accompanied by Denholm, climbed down a rope ladder to greet the owner.

The first impression that Talbot had of Wotherspoon was that he didn’t look a bit like a professor or an archæologist but then, he had to admit, he had no idea what a professor or archæologist was supposed to look like. He was tall, lean, shockhaired and deeply tanned: humorous of mien and colloquial of speech, he was the last person one would expect to find wandering through the groves of Academe. He was certainly not more than forty years old. His wife, with auburn hair and laughing hazel eyes, was at least ten years younger and was also, it seemed, an archæologist.

Introductions effected by Denholm, Talbot said: ‘I appreciate this very much, Professor. Very kind of you to come. Not to say very gallant. You appreciate that there is a fair chance that you might find yourself prematurely in another world? Lieutenant Denholm did explain the dangers to you?’

‘In a cautious and roundabout fashion. He’s become very tight-lipped since he joined the Senior Service.’

‘I didn’t join. I was dragooned.’

‘He did mention something about vaporization. Well, one gets a bit tired of studying ancient history. Much more interesting to be a part of the making of it.’

‘It might be a very short-lived interest indeed. Does Mrs Wotherspoon share your short-lived interests?’

‘“Angelina”, please. We had to entertain a very prim and proper Swiss lady the other day and she insisted on addressing me as Madame Professor Wotherspoon. Ghastly. No, I can’t say I share all of my husband’s more extravagant enthusiasms. But, alas, he does have one professorial failing. He’s horribly absent-minded. Someone has to look after him.’

Talbot smiled. ‘A fearful thing for so young and attractive a lady to be trapped for life. Again, thank you both very, very much. I should like it if you would join us for lunch. Meantime, I’ll leave Lieutenant Denholm to explain the full horrors of the situation to you – especially the ones you’ll encounter across the lunch table.’

‘Gloom and despondency,’ Van Gelder said, ‘It ill becomes one so young and beautiful to be gloomy and despondent. What is the matter, Irene?’

In so far as one so young and beautiful could look morose, Irene Charial gazed out morosely over the taffrail of the Ariadne.

‘I am not, Lieutenant-Commander Van Gelder, in the mood for flattery.’

‘Vincent. Flattery is an insincere compliment. How can the truth be flattery? But you’re right about the word “mood”. You are in a mood. You’re worried, upset. What’s troubling you?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Being beautiful doesn’t mean you’re above telling fibs. You could hardly call that flattery, could you?’

‘No.’ A fleeting smile touched the green eyes. ‘Not really.’

‘I know this is a very unpleasant situation you find yourself in. But we’re all trying to make the best of it. Or did something your parents say upset you?’

‘You know perfectly well that that’s not true.’ Van Gelder also knew it, Denholm had reassured him on that point.

‘Yes, that’s so. You were hardly in a cheerful frame of mind when I first met you this morning. Something worries you. Is it so dreadful a secret that you can’t tell me?’

‘You’ve come here to pry, haven’t you?’

‘Yes. To pry and probe. Crafty, cunning, devious questions to extract information from you that you don’t know you’re giving away.’ It was Van Gelder’s turn to look morose, ‘I don’t think I’m very good at it.’

‘I don’t think you are, either. That man sent you, didn’t he?’

‘What man?’

‘Now you’re being dishonest. Commander Talbot. Your captain. A cold man. Distant. Humourless.’

‘He’s neither cold nor distant. And he’s got a very considerable sense of humour.’

‘Humour. I don’t see any signs of it.’

‘I’m beginning not to be surprised.’ Van Gelder had stopped smiling. ‘Maybe he thought it would be wasted on you.’

‘Maybe he’s right.’ She appeared not to have taken offence. ‘Or maybe I just don’t see too much to laugh about at the moment. But I’m right about the other thing. He’s remote, distant. I’ve met people like him before.’

‘I doubt it very much. In the same way that I doubt your power of judgement. You don’t seem to be very well equipped in that line.’

‘Oh.’ She made a moue. ‘Flattery and charm have flown out the window, is that it?’

‘I don’t flatter. I’ve never claimed to have charm.’

‘I meant no harm. Please. I see nothing wrong with being a career officer. But he lives for only two things – the Royal Navy and the Ariadne.’

‘You poor deluded creature.’ Van Gelder spoke without heat. ‘But how were you to know? John Talbot lives for only two things – his daughter and his son. Fiona, aged six, and Jimmy, aged three. He dotes on them. So do I. I’m their Uncle Vincent.’

‘Oh.’ She was silent for some moments. ‘And his wife?’

‘Dead.’

‘I am sorry.’ She caught his arm. ‘To say I didn’t know is no excuse. Go ahead. Call me a clown.’

‘I don’t flatter, I don’t charm – and I don’t tell lies.’

‘But you do turn a pretty compliment.’ She took her hand away, leaned on the rail and looked out over the sea. After some time, she said, without looking around: ‘It’s my Uncle Adam, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. We don’t know him, we don’t trust him and we think he’s a highly suspicious character. You will forgive me talking about your nearest and dearest in this fashion.’

‘He is not my nearest and dearest.’ She had turned to face him. There was neither vehemence in her voice nor marked expression in her face: at most, a slight degree of bewilderment in both. ‘I don’t know him, I don’t trust him and I think he’s a highly suspicious character.’

‘If you don’t know him, what on earth are – were – you doing aboard his yacht?’

‘I suppose that, too, seems suspicious. Not really. Three reasons, I would think. He’s a very persuasive man. He seems to be genuinely fond of our family – my younger brother and sister and myself – for he is forever giving us presents, very expensive presents, too, and it seemed churlish to refuse his invitation. Then there was the element of fascination – I know practically nothing about him, nor what his business activities are or why he spends so much time in foreign countries. And, of course, perhaps both Eugenia and I are snobs at heart and were flattered by the invitation to go cruising on a very expensive yacht.’

‘Well, good enough reasons. But still not good enough to explain why you went with him if you dislike him.’

‘I didn’t say I disliked him. I said I distrusted him. Not the same thing. And I didn’t begin distrusting him until this trip.’

‘Why start now?’

‘Alexander is why.’ She gave a mock shudder. ‘Would you trust Alexander?’

‘Candidly, no.’

‘And Aristotle is almost as bad. The three of them spent hours talking together, usually in the radio-room. Whenever Eugenia or I went near them, they stopped talking. Why?’

‘Obvious, isn’t it? They didn’t want you to hear what they were talking about. Ever been with him abroad on his business trips?’

‘Good heavens, no.’ She was genuinely startled at the idea.

‘Not even on the Delos?’

‘I’ve only been on the Delos once before. With my brother and sister. A short trip to Istanbul.’

He was going to have less than a sensational report to make to his captain, Van Gelder reflected. She didn’t know her uncle. She didn’t know what his businesses were. She never travelled with him. And her only reason for distrusting him was that she distrusted Alexander, a feeling almost certainly shared by the majority of people who had ever met him. Van Gelder made one last try.

‘Your mother’s brother, of course?’ She nodded. ‘What does she think of him?’

‘She never speaks ill of him. But she never speaks ill of anyone. She’s a wonderful lady, a wonderful mother, not simple or anything like that, just a very trusting person who could never bring herself to speak ill of anyone.’

‘She’s obviously never met Alexander. Your father?’

‘He never speaks of Uncle Adam either, but he doesn’t speak in a very different way, if you follow me. My father is a very straight, very honest man, very clever, head of a big construction company, highly respected by everyone. But he doesn’t speak of my uncle. I’m not as trusting as my mother. I believe my father strongly disapproves of Uncle Adam or whatever businesses he runs. Or both. I don’t believe they’ve talked in years.’ She shrugged and gave a faint smile. ‘Sorry I can’t be of more help. You haven’t learnt anything, have you?’

‘Yes, I have. I’ve learnt I can trust you.’

This time the smile was warm and genuine and friendly. ‘You don’t flatter, you don’t charm and you don’t tell lies. But you are gallant.’

‘Yes,’ Van Gelder said, ‘I believe I am.’

‘Sir John,’ the President said, ‘you have put me in a most damnably awkward position. I speak, you understand, more in sorrow than in anger.’

‘Yes, Mr President. I am aware of that and I’m sorry for it. It is, of course, no consolation for you to know that I am in an equally awkward situation.’ If Sir John Travers, the British Ambassador to the United States, did indeed find himself in such a situation, he showed no signs of it. But then Sir John was renowned throughout the diplomatic world for his savoir-faire, his monolithic calm and his ability to remain wholly unruffled in the most trying and difficult situations, ‘I’m only the messenger boy. Grade one, of course.’

‘Who the hell is this fellow Hawkins, anyway?’ Richard Hollison, deputy head of the FBI, couldn’t quite match Sir John’s tranquil serenity but he had his obvious anger under tight control, ‘I don’t think I care very much for having a foreigner telling the White House, the Pentagon and the FBI how to run their business.’

‘Hawkins is a Vice-Admiral in the British Navy.’ The General was the fourth and only other person in the office. ‘An exceptionally able man. I cannot think of any United States naval officer whom I would sooner have in his place in those nearimpossible circumstances. And I don’t think I need point out that I am in the most awkward situation of all. I don’t want to sound overly possessive but, bloody hell, the Pentagon is my concern.’

‘Richard Hollison,’ Sir John said. ‘I’ve known you for some years now. I know your reputation for toughness is matched only by your reputation for fairness. Be fair in this case. Admiral Hawkins, as the General has just said, is in a position of having to cope with almost impossible circumstances which, as you are in a position to know better than most, involves making almost impossible decisions. He’s not telling anyone how to run their business. In order to get a message to the President, without anyone in the Government or the Pentagon seeing the message before the President, he elected to bypass the Pentagon and all the standard avenues of communication. Certainly the Pentagon knows it’s already under investigation, but Hawkins didn’t want anyone to know that he was pointing fingers in certain directions. If it is your intention to set a cat among the pigeons or let loose an eagle in the dovecote, you don’t send a postcard in advance announcing your intentions.’

‘Yes, I accept that,’ Hollison said. ‘With weary resignation, I accept it. But don’t ask me to like it.’

‘Like it or lump it,’ the President said, ‘I accept it, too.’ He looked unenthusiastically at the paper before him on his desk. ‘It would appear that this Adamantios Andropulos, who is Hawkins’s temporary guest – I could well imagine that Admiral Hawkins would use the term “guest” even if this unfortunate were clapped in irons in some shipboard dungeon – has an account with a Washington bank, name and address supplied, of some eighteen million dollars, and would we kindly make enquiries to see if he has been disbursing any of this of late and, if so, in what direction. I know this lies well within your capabilities, Richard. Point is, how long will it take?’

‘All depends upon how many false names, how many dud companies, how much of the usual laundering paraphernalia is involved. The villain, if there is a villain, might well have a numbered account in outer Mongolia. Unlikely, I admit, but you take my point. One hour, maybe three. We will not stand upon the order of our going. Excuse me, Mr President. Excuse me, gentlemen.’ Hollison left.

‘The Army and the Marines will be pleased to learn – when they do learn of it – that Admiral Hawkins does not consider them worthy of his regard,’ the President went on. ‘Only the Air Force and the Navy. The Air Force I can, in the circumstances, understand. But it would be interesting to know why he has deemed the Navy to be deserving of his interests. He gives no indications on that score.’ The President sighed. ‘Maybe he doesn’t even trust me. Or maybe he knows something that we don’t know.’

Sir John said placidly: ‘If that is the case – that he knows something we don’t – I have little doubt that he’ll tell us in the fullness of time.’

The man under discussion in the White House was, at that moment, dwelling on precisely the same subject.

‘Time’s winged chariot, John. I forget the rest of the quotation but it’s definitely on the wing.’ Leaning back in a comfortable armchair, a glass of frosted lime juice in his hand, Hawkins succeeded only in giving the impression of a man with all the time in the world. ‘So much to do, so little time to do it in. How stands the Ariadne in respect of the rest of this uncaring world?’

‘I think you might say, sir, that the patient is coming along as well as could be expected. Our carpenter is aboard the Angelina, building a cradle for the bomb according to the specifications the Pentagon gave us. There will be two hinged clamps to secure it in even the worst weather which, as you can see for yourself, is the last thing we expect today.’

‘Indeed.’ The Admiral looked through the window of his cabin. ‘The weather is all wrong, John. Considering the possibly apocalyptic and doomladen task we have on hand, the least we could reasonably expect is high winds, torrential rain, thunder, lightning, tempests, tornadoes and all those other adverse weather conditions that King Lear encountered on his walkabout around the blasted heath. But what do we have? A blistering July sun, a cloudless blue sky and the wine-dark seas without even a ripple to show for themselves. Downright disappointing. Also disappointing, not to say extremely disturbing, is the likelihood that if those zero-wind conditions persist, it’ll take the Angelina a week to get even half way towards the horizon.’

‘I don’t think we have to worry about that, sir. Weather conditions in the Cyclades between early July and mid-September are remarkably predictable. It’s already eleven forty-five. Any minute now the Meltemi, the Etesian wind, will start up from the north-west. During the afternoon it reaches Forces 5 or 6, sometimes even 7. Usually dies away in the evening but it has been known to last all night. The Meltemi will be ideally suited for the Angelina. Those luggers, as Denholm said, are hopeless windward sailors but in this case it will be directly astern of them and carry them down towards the Kásos Strait to the east of the easternmost tip of Crete.’

‘Sounds fine, but, well, even if Montgomery manages to raise this bomber, if he manages to cut a hole in the fuselage without blowing us all to kingdom come, if he manages to extract the atom bomb and if he manages to secure it to the Angelina’s cradle, what happens if the thing detonates before he reaches the Kásos Strait?’

‘Then that’s it for Wotherspoon and his crew. For us, the risk is low. I’ve been talking to Dr Wickram about this. He seems convinced of the inherent stability of the hydrogen bomb – after all, he does build the damn things. While he says it would be a hundred per cent certain to go up if an atom bomb exploded alongside it, we mustn’t over-estimate the effects of a more remote explosive shock, even at a distance of a few miles. After all, those bombs did survive the effect of the explosion in the nose of the bomber and the impact of the plane hitting the water at high speed. Besides, the intervening miles of water – we hope there will be those intervening miles – should have a powerfully dampening effect.’

‘There’ll be no such effect for those aboard the Angelina. Curtains. What motivates a man like that, John? Obviously, he’s incredibly brave – but, well, is he all right?’

‘If you mean is he off his rocker, then we’re all off our rockers. He’s as sane as you or I. He’s a romantic at heart, a born adventurer; a couple of hundred years ago and he’d have been somewhere on the other side of the world building up the odd empire.’

‘That’s as may be. But it’s still a terrible thought that a man like that should die for us.’

‘He won’t be dying for all of us. I’m going on the Angelina. So is Vincent Van Gelder.’

Hawkins put down his glass and stared at him. ‘Do you know what you’re saying? I know what you’re saying and I think you’ve taken leave of your senses. Are you mad? You and Van Gelder? Quite mad?’

‘Van Gelder insists on coming along. I insist on going. That’s all there is to it.’

‘I absolutely forbid it.’

‘With the deepest respect, Admiral, you’ll forbid me nothing. Did you honestly expect me to leave a job half done? Did you honestly expect me to let him go out there and die alone? I would remind you that I am the captain of this ship and that at sea not even an admiral can take over from me or give orders which I consider to be to the detriment of this vessel.’

‘Mutiny!’ Hawkins waved a dismissive hand at his lime juice. ‘Have we nothing stronger than this?’

‘Naturally.’ Talbot went to the Admiral’s wine cupboard and prepared a drink while Hawkins gazed at a spot on the deck which was about a thousand miles away. ‘A large scotch and water. No ice.’

‘Thank you.’ Hawkins drained almost half the contents. ‘Mutiny, forsooth!’

‘Yes, sir. Can’t hang me from the yard-arm, though. It’s my yard-arm. You haven’t yet met Angelina – Professor Wotherspoon’s wife, I mean, not the lugger. But you will. I’ve invited them aboard for lunch. Young, rather lovely, nice sense of humour and dotty about her husband. She has to be – dotty, I mean – to do something she clearly doesn’t want to do, that is to go along from here with her husband and the bomb on the lugger.’

‘I’m sure I shall be delighted to make her acquaintance.’ Hawkins took another sip of his drink. ‘What’s she got to do with the matter in hand?’

‘She’s not going with the bomb and the lugger. Neither is Wotherspoon, for that matter, or his two crew members. They remain aboard the Ariadne. Wotherspoon, of course, will have to be forcibly restrained, but that’s no problem at all. Van Gelder and I will take the Angelina down through the Kásos Strait. Two small medals will suffice.’

Hawkins was silent for quite some time, then said: ‘How are you going to pin on a couple of posthumous VCs or whatever when you’re circling the earth in a vaporized orbit?’

‘One problem at a time. We can’t let the girl go.’

‘Good God, no. I’ll never forgive myself. I never even started to think. I wonder–’

‘Wonder me no wonders, sir. We don’t have room for three heroes aboard the Angelina. Someone has to take the Ariadne home again, remember? Well, that’s the Angelina. Now, the Kilcharran. I’ve just been talking to Captain Montgomery. He’s just given a couple of experimental tugs on the lifting slings and he reckons the bomber, with the help of the flotation bags, of course, is nearing a state of neutral buoyancy. Twenty minutes, half an hour at the most, and he’s going to start to haul away. You won’t want to miss that, sir.’

‘No, indeed. What did Walter de la Mare say – look your last on all things lovely every hour? This may be the last thing I’ll ever see?’

‘I rather hope it doesn’t come to that, sir. Apart from the lugger and the recovery of the bomber, we have to wait for three other things. The reaction to the message we sent to the President via our embassy in Washington, which might take quite some time, for even the most cooperative of banks, and banks almost by definition are secretive and detest the very thought of cooperation, are going to be very reluctant to disclose any information about their important clients, because important clients don’t like that sort of thing. Admittedly, Air Force Generals and Admirals are unlikely to be very important financially, but they are from the point of view of prestige and power and would, I should think, carry a disproportionate amount of clout. I do hope we haven’t upset too many people over there. Then, and this I should expect very soon, there should be a reply from Greek Intelligence to our query asking for the complete list of places where Andropulos has conducted business, any kind of business, over the past few years. Then, of course, we await the arrival of this krytron device from America.’

‘Which may arrive any old time. I mean, we have no idea, have we? Do the Americans have supersonic planes?’

‘Sure they have. But fighters only. And their nearest refuelling point would be the Azores and I’m quite certain no fighter could fly the close on two thousand miles they’d have to travel to get there. Question of fuel capacity. Besides, it’s not absolutely essential that we get this device before leaving with the bomb – always assuming, of course, that we do leave. We could always dump the bomb, drop a marker, warn all shipping to keep clear, wait for the krytron to arrive, return there and detonate the bomb.’

‘Much more satisfactory if it could all be done in one fell swoop.’ Hawkins thought for a moment, then smiled. ‘What’s the time in Washington?’

‘Four a.m., I think.’

‘Excellent, excellent. A short message. Ask them how it’s being transported and what’s the expected time of arrival. Give ’em something to do.’ Talbot lifted a phone and dictated the message.

‘Haven’t seen your second-in-command lately,’ Hawkins said. ‘I understood he was prising secrets loose from Andropulos’s niece?’

‘Vincent normally carries out his duties with efficiency and dispatch. When the duties involve Irene Charial, it seems to take a little longer.’

‘Not so many years ago it would have taken me a little longer myself. Ah!’ Van Gelder had appeared in the doorway. ‘Just discussing you, young man. A difficult and protracted interview, I take it?’

‘One treads delicately, sir. But she told me everything she knew.’ He looked reproachfully at Talbot. ‘I detect a trace of scepticism in your expression, sir. Unwarranted, I assure you. I believe her, I trust her and I was not bewitched by her green eyes, owing to the fact that I was on duty at the time.’

‘Less than admirable though they may be, Vincent, deviousness and low cunning have their place in the scheme of things.’

‘It wasn’t like that at all. I told her that you had sent me to try to trap her into making unwary and unguarded statements and unwittingly to betray herself. After that, we got along famously.’

Talbot smiled. ‘Just another way of being devious. What does she know?’

‘Nothing. I guarantee you’d come to the same conclusion, sir. She doesn’t know her uncle, except superficially. She doesn’t trust him. She thinks he’s a highly suspicious character. She thinks Alexander is a highly suspicious character, although that wouldn’t require any great acumen on anyone’s part. She knows nothing about his businesses. She’s never travelled with him. Her father, whom she obviously dotes on and has the highest respect for, thinks he’s a highly suspicious character – he and Andropulos haven’t spoken for years. She’s convinced that her father knows a great deal about her uncle and his businesses, but Dad refuses to discuss any aspect of the matter.’

‘Sounds as if we could do with Dad aboard right now,’ Hawkins said, ‘I have the feeling we could learn some very interesting things from him.’

‘I’m sure we could, sir. One odd thing – she’s convinced that her uncle is genuinely fond of her.’

Hawkins smiled, ‘I think it would be rather difficult not to be fond of the young lady. However, I would point out in the passing, and apropos of nothing, that mass murderers have been known to dote on tiny tots.’

‘I hardly think he’s a mass murderer, sir.’

‘And she’s certainly not a tiny tot.’ He looked speculatively at Talbot. ‘A passing thought, John?’

‘Yes.’ Talbot looked out through the window for an unseeing moment, then back at Hawkins. ‘How do we know he’s not a mass murderer?’

The speculation was still in Hawkins’s eyes. ‘You don’t normally make remarks like that. Not without good reason. You have something in mind?’

‘I think I have. But it’s so far back in my mind that I can’t reach it. It’ll come.’ He turned as Denholm entered the cabin, ‘I seem to recall having asked you this question before. What drags you away from the fleshpots?’

‘Duty, sir.’

‘You will have noticed, Admiral,’ Talbot said, ‘how devoted the Ariadne’s officers are to their duty. I thought, Jimmy, that you were supposed to be lurking and eavesdropping?’

‘I have lurked, sir. And eavesdropped. I have also been plying Mr Andropulos and his friends with strong drink.’

‘At this time of the morning?’ Hawkins said.

‘Captain’s orders, sir. I hope, Captain, that the Admiralty are going to take care of my bar bill.’

‘Prodigious?’

‘Not as prodigious as their thirsts. They have relaxed a bit. They have apparently agreed that I’m simple-minded. They are quite certain I don’t know a word of Greek but even so they’re still very cautious. Much given to allusions and cryptic references, all made, for good measure, in a Macedonian dialect.’

‘Which you learnt at your mother’s knee?’

‘A bit later than that. But I’m at home in it. I don’t know whether you will consider this good news or bad, sir, but Andropulos knows there are hydrogen bombs aboard that bomber. He even knows there are fifteen of them.’

There was a fairly lengthy silence while the other three men in the cabin considered the implications of Denholm’s words, then Hawkins said: ‘Good news and bad news. Good news for us, bad news for Andropulos. Well done, my boy. Very well done.’

‘I echo that, sir,’ Talbot said. ‘Lieutenant Denholm is miscast as either a classicist or electronics officer. MI5 should have him. There is no way that Andropulos could have learnt aboard the Ariadne of the existence of those bombs. So he knew before. Proof, if that were needed, of our near-certain conviction that Andropulos has penetrated the Pentagon.’

‘I would point out, sir,’ Denholm said, ‘that the words hydrogen bombs weren’t actually used. Also, it’s only my word against theirs.’

‘That’s irrelevant and this is no court of law. There will be no confrontation. All that matters is that we know and they don’t know that we do.’

‘My usefulness is over? Or do I continue to lurk?’

‘Lurk, of course. The three A’s must be making some contingency plans. We know now why they wanted aboard the Ariadne. What we don’t know is what they intend to do now that they are here. Resume your wassailing.’

‘Wassailing?’ Denholm sounded bitter, ‘I have an arrangement with Jenkins whereby I consume copious quantities of tonic water, lemon and ice. Ghastly.’ He turned to go but Talbot stopped him as a seaman entered and handed over a sheet of paper.

‘You might as well hear what’s in this.’ He studied the paper briefly. ‘This is in reply to a request we made of Greek Intelligence for as exhaustive a list as they could supply of all places where Andropulos is known either to do business or have contacts. No names, no addresses, just towns. Forty or fifty of them. My, my. This list wasn’t compiled on the spur of the moment. Greek Intelligence must have been taking a more than passing interest in the activities of our friend Andropulos over a long period, years I would think. I wonder why. About half of those places are marked by asterisks. Again I wonder why. Was that for their own information or is it intended to suggest something to us?’

He handed the paper to Hawkins, who studied it for a moment, then said: ‘I know those places marked with an asterisk. I don’t see their relevance in our circumstances. I can’t even remotely associate them with our problem. I’d swear that none of those places had any connection with hydrogen bombs.’

‘So would I,’ Talbot said. ‘Maybe they handle something else. In spite of the situation we find ourselves in, maybe hydrogen bombs aren’t the biggest cause for concern. If you can imagine anything worse than our present situation, that is. Could I have that back, sir?’

He sat at the desk, made some marks on the paper before him, then looked up.

‘Bangkok, Islamabad, Kabul, Bogotá, Miami, Mexico City, Tijuana, San Diego, Bahamas, Ocho Rios, Ankara, Sofia – Andropulos playing both sides of the fence with those last two, the ethnic Turks are having a very bad time in Bulgaria just now, but Andropulos wouldn’t let that interfere with his business interests – and Amsterdam. What does that list suggest?’

‘Drugs,’ Van Gelder said.

‘Drugs. Heroin, cocaine, marijuana, you name. it. Now some more towns. Tehran, Baghdad – Andropulos again playing both sides of the fence, Iran and Iraq had been at war for six years now – Tripoli, Damascus, Beirut, Athens, Rome, East Berlin, New York and London. That suggest something?’

‘Yes.’ It was Van Gelder again. ‘Terrorism. I’m not quite sure why New York and London qualify.’

‘I seem to remember there have been two attempts, one at John F. Kennedy, the other at Heathrow to smuggle bombs aboard planes. Both bungled, both failed. I think it’s fairly safe to assume – in fact, it would be criminally negligent not to assume – that the terrorists who planned those crimes are still in residence in London and New York, waiting. Jimmy, would you please go to your cabin and bring Theodore here with whatever further results his cryptology has turned up.’

Hawkins said: ‘I most sincerely hope that you are not thinking what I think you are, if you follow me.’

‘It may be, sir, that I am thinking what you are, if you follow me.’

‘What you are suggesting is that this Andropulos is some kind of mastermind – possible world co-ordinator – of drug-smuggling? Is that what you meant by your remark that we didn’t know he wasn’t a mass murderer?’

‘Yes, sir. What else can that list of contacts he has in drug areas mean? Where else has he accumulated his vast wealth – and we haven’t added it all up yet, not by any means.’

‘There’s no actual proof.’

‘All depends on what you call proof. It’s very powerful suggestive evidence. How far are you prepared to stretch the long arm of coincidence? To infinity?’

‘And you’re further suggesting he’s engaged in terrorism. That he’s using his vast profits from drug-smuggling to finance his terrorist activities?’

‘It’s possible, but I don’t think so. I think the two activities are being run in tandem.’

‘A drug-peddler is one thing. A terrorist quite another. Incompatibles. Poles apart. Never the twain shall meet.’

‘One hesitates to contradict a senior officer. But I’m afraid you’re wrong, sir. Vincent, would you enlighten the Admiral? You know what I’m talking about.’

‘All too well, sir. October 1984, Admiral, our last submarine patrol. North Atlantic, about two hundred miles west of the Irish coast. I can remember it as if it were yesterday. We were asked to move into position to observe, but not to intercept, a small American ship en route from the States to Ireland and given its course and estimated time when it would pass a certain point. Neither the crew of this vessel nor its captain, a certain Captain Robert Anderson who, I believe, is still at large, knew that they had been monitored from the moment they had left port by an American spy-in-the-sky satellite. We upped periscope, identified it, then downed periscope. They never saw us. It was a New England trawler, the Valhalla, based on Gloucester, Massachusetts, from which it had sailed a few days earlier. It transferred its cargo to an Irish tug, the Marita Ann, which was duly seized by the Irish Navy.

‘The cargo consisted entirely of military hardware – rifles, machine-guns, shotguns, pistols, hand grenades, rockets and, as I recall, about 70,000 rounds of ammunition, all destined for the IRA. It was to have been the IRA’s biggest gunrunning plot ever, but it was foiled because of what was called “Operation Leprechaun”, where the CIA, our MI5 and Irish Intelligence took a healthy – or unhealthy, it all depends on your point of view – interest in the activities of Noraid, an Irish-American group that specialized – for all I know it may still be specializing – in buying American arms and shipping them to the IRA in Ireland.

‘Round about the same time a Panamanian registered cargo ship by the name of the Ramsland, chartered by the same gang who had organized the Valhalla, put into Boston harbour and was promptly seized by the United States Coast Guard. The Ramsland had secret compartments below decks but the Coast Guard knew all about those secret compartments. They held no less than thirty tons of marijuana, another smuggling record. The proceeds from the sale of those drugs were, of course, intended to fund IRA terrorist activities.’

‘We became quite interested in the drug-terrorist connection,’ Talbot said, ‘and made some discreet enquiries. At least five other drug-terrorist connections had been discovered and broken up. It is believed that considerably more connections have not been discovered and so not broken up. Why should Andropulos be an exception to what appears to be a fairly well established rule?’

‘A suitably chastened admiral sits before you,’ Hawkins said. ‘We live, we learn. You two should join Denholm and offer your services to MI5. Ah, the man himself.’

Denholm entered the cabin with Theodore, who handed over to Talbot some papers he had with him. Talbot looked at them and handed them over to Hawkins.

‘Well, well, well,’ Hawkins said. ‘What an interesting coincidence or, in view of what I’ve just been learning, perhaps not all that much of a coincidence. Fifteen of the towns that Greek Intelligence asterisked – if that’s the word – on their list. Only, in this case – my, my, my! – they give names and addresses. Isn’t that splendid? Captain, a thought has occurred to me. There’s one of those towns marked with an asterisk that you omitted to mention. Washington, DC. Does that come under D for drugs or T for terrorism?’

‘Neither. B for bribery. Are you about through this list, Theodore?’

‘Two-thirds, I would say.’

‘And that will be the end of it?’

‘No, Captain. There’s still a last list.’

‘It would be gratifying if it held some more revelations, but perhaps that would be too much to hope for. How long have you been up and around, Theodore?’

‘Three o’clock this morning. Three-thirty. I’m not sure, I was a bit fuzzy. If I had known what would be required of me this morning I wouldn’t have gone to that birthday celebration last night.’

‘And it’s now noon, or thereabouts. Seven hours of beating your brains out when you weren’t feeling all that hot to begin with. You must be exhausted. But I would appreciate it if you could at least finish this present list off. After that, Jimmy, I suggest that Theodore has a drink, snack and snooze in that order.’ The two men left. ‘If you agree, Admiral, I suggest that Vincent contacts Greek Intelligence after Theodore has finished that list and furnishes them with a list of the towns together with the appropriate names and addresses. Could help.’

‘And what do you imagine Greek Intelligence can do?’

‘Very little, I imagine. But they can forward the list, with utmost urgency, to Interpol. Admittedly, Interpol’s writ doesn’t run worldwide – they would have zero clout in places, say, like Tripoli, Tehran or Beirut – and they are an information gathering and dispensing agency not an executive unit, and they know more about bad people than any other group in the world. And ask them if they suspect – suspect, not have proof – that Andropulos is engaged in drug-running.’

‘Shall be done, sir. Sign it “Admiral Hawkins”?’

‘Naturally.’

Hawkins shook his head. ‘Admiral Hawkins here, Admiral Hawkins there, it seems he’s signing his name everywhere. Or, rather somebody’s signing it for him. I shall have to look to my chequebooks.’