A Five Year Plan

Chapter Sixteen

Dave met Jock, the Duke’s electrical officer, and Niven, the second officer, on their way out of the bridge wing.

‘I was going to come and check the handset on your radio, wasn’t I?’ admitted Jock.

‘Hey, no problem,’ said Dave. ‘Fixed it myself. But what about this hurricane? Is it going to catch us up, do you think?’

‘We’re on our way down to the radio room to get the latest weather report,’ said Niven. ‘You’re welcome to join us, sir, if you’re interested.’

‘Thanks, I’d like to.’

Dave followed the two men along the corridor to the radio room.

As Jock waited for a detailed weather map to be printed out on the fax machine, Niven said, ‘I wouldn’t worry about the storm, if I were you sir. It’s my job to lay off courses and to take account of any hazards to navigation. That includes storms. If Hurricane Louisa looks like it’s getting too close, we’ll simply alter course and try to get out of her way.’

Niven’s comment sent up a small distress signal in Dave’s head about the rendezvous. ‘By how much do you think we would have to alter course?’ he asked.

‘That all depends, sir,’ said Niven.

‘Storm Force Nine,’ said Jock, reading the map. He tore the fax off the machine and handed it to Niven. ‘Heading northwest toward the North Atlantic Plateau. Straight for us.’

‘I’d better give this to the captain,’ said Niven. On his way out of the radio room, he called back, ‘Provided Louisa stays on course we should be able to sidestep her without much of a problem.’

Dave nodded, although he was not much reassured by this latest news.

‘The second officer’s right, sir,’ said Jock. ‘We’ll probably just go a bit further south, that’s all. Might put us slightly behind schedule, only you wouldn’t want to be on this ship in a storm, sir. Because of the high profile, see? The Duke’s like a floating multi-storey car park. What’s more, there’s not much in the way of freeboard.’

‘Freeboard?’

‘In the tropical zone you expect the best weather, so you load more cargo with a consequent reduction in freeboard,’ explained Jock. ‘Increased freeboard increases the safety of the ship in bad weather. And vice versa. Plus, we’re working on the summer loadline. That also decreases our freeboard.’ Jock grinned and began to roll a cigarette. ‘Ach, don’t worry yourself. If we do have a problem we can always radio that submarine.’

‘You really think it’s there?’

Jock lit his cigarette, flicked a switch on the radio to change channels, and Dave heard the sound that he had heard before. Jock said, ‘There it is. Broadcasting right now.’

Dave remembered Keach screwing around with his Tracvision antenna and wondered if the signal could have anything to do with the Baby Doc.

‘Wait a minute,’ he said. ‘Before, you said you thought a sub was only a possibility. That it might be one of the boats on this ship that was broadcasting.’

‘Aye sir, that was the first possibility. The sub was the second. And now that I think about it, there’s a third as well.’

‘What’s that?’

‘One of the boats on this ship is broadcasting to the submarine.’ Jock sucked on the cigarette with slow precision and half swallowed his inhalation of smoke.

‘You really do think it’s there, don’t you?’ Dave repeated dumbly.

‘I’m no sonar man,’ said Jock. ‘But there was something there on the echo sounder, last time I looked. It’s not very accurate, mind. All it does is give you the depth of clear water underneath the hull. But anyone could see there should have been more water than there was on the sounder. Of course, for all I know it could have been a reef, or even a friendly whale.’

‘But you don’t really think that, do you, Jock?’

‘No sir, I think it’s a sub.’

‘What about the captain? What does he think?’

‘Granny?’ Jock laughed. ‘All he cares about is his garden and that woman on the Jade. Fancies his chance, by all accounts. He doesn’t give a shit about any submarine.’ Jock flicked ash across the radio table. ‘Quite exciting when you think about it. A spy aboard the Duke.’

‘But why?’ said Dave. ‘Why would anyone want to spy on this ship?’

‘Ah well, that’s the question, isn’t it, sir? Why indeed?’

Jack Jellicoe was sunbathing in his garden. This consisted of several terracotta pots filled with lobelia and scented geraniums, which were arranged around one of the bow engine towers on top of the bridge. Lying on his sun-lounger, with a cool-box of ready-mixed pink gins by his side, and a novel by P.D. James, the captain was in his element. But he knew, as soon as he saw his second officer approaching, that something must be amiss. Niven was a competent officer and would never have disturbed him unless it was something important.

‘What’s up?’ he barked.

Niven handed over the fax. ‘Weather map, sir. I thought you ought to see it straight away.’

‘Thank you Two-O.’ Jellicoe scrutinized the map carefully.

Niven said, ‘Hurricane Louisa, sir. Following us. Thought I’d better lay in a new course. I’ve marked it up on the fax, sir.’

‘I see,’ Jellicoe said sourly. ‘The only problem with this new course is that it takes us straight along the Tropic of Cancer.’

‘Yes sir. I thought if we stayed south the storm would pass by well north of us, heading toward the Azores.’

‘And where do you propose that we should sail north to ourselves, when we want to head toward Gib and the Med? Which is, after all, where we are ultimately bound.’

‘Well sir, just north of the Canary Islands.’

‘Just north of the Canaries, eh?’ Jellicoe smiled bitterly and then pointed to the two brass cannon that were pointed out to sea. ‘What about those?’

‘How do you mean, sir?’

‘In case you’d forgotten, we stole those from the island of Lanzarote. Which, if memory serves, is one of the smaller Canary Islands. Thus placing me and my ship in rather bad odor with the local government’s chief budgerigar. You see my point?’

‘Yes sir.’

Jellicoe took another look at the map.

‘We can’t possibly go anywhere near there.’

‘No sir.’

‘Here’s what we’ll do, Two. I’ve seen this kind of thing before. The storm will have largely blown itself out by the time it gets to us, take my word for it. No, we’ll stick to our original course. However, just to be on the safe side, tell the chief engineer to give us maximum revs. We’ll try to put some distance between ourselves and Louisa. It’ll probably get a bit rough, but nothing we can’t handle. You know, Two, contrary to popular opinion, the best place you can be during a storm is at sea. When Hurricane Bertha struck the American coast, US Navy officers ordered their ships to sea, to save them from being thrown against the harbor walls. That should tell you something.’

‘What about the ladies on the Jade, sir?’

‘What about them?’

‘Tonight’s their cocktail party, sir.’

‘Oh, that.’ Jellicoe took another look at the weather map and shook his head. ‘Should be all over by the time the sea starts to get up.’

‘You know they might not be used to this kind of thing, sir. I mean it’s going to get pretty rough.’

‘Oh, I don’t think you need worry about Captain Dana and her crew. I’m sure they’ve encountered a bit of squally weather in their time.’

‘Yes sir, but a boat like that. They’ll be fitted with stabilizers, won’t they? They’re not much good to them while they’re aboard the Duke, sir. The only stabilizer on this ship is the cook’s coffee.’

‘That’ll be all, Mister Niven. Better tell the boys to go to blues. It’s going to get cooler. And tell the helmsman it’s steady as she goes.’

‘Aye sir.’ Niven started to walk away, shaking his head. ‘Steady as she goes? Fat bloody chance of that.’

‘Something to add, Mister Niven?’

‘No sir.’

‘Then get on with it.’

Jellicoe watched his second officer retreat. Calmly he folded away his sun-lounger, then collected up his cool-box, his novel and the weather map. Heading back to his own cabin he was chuckling happily. It looked very like the supernumos were going to get a real taste of the Atlantic after all.

Kate had walked down to the stern of the ship to take a closer look at the Britannia and her crew, and to see if she could plant another listening device on the hull.

The captain, Nicky Vallbona, the other crewman, a guy named Webb Garwood, and Vallbona’s girlfriend, Gay Gilmore, were nowhere to be seen. Kate strolled up and down the dock wall alongside the Britannia a couple of times, affecting a greater interest in the Duke’s engine towers and open stern but there was nothing to see except a lot of seagulls picking over the garbage floating in the Duke’s wake. The Britannia looked as shipshape as any other boat on the transport, and that included the Camera.

Kate looked both ways and then knelt down to tie the lace of her boat shoe. The listening device was no bigger than an earplug and it was a simple matter to lean across and stick the bug to the boat’s coach roof. She was already walking away, when a man’s voice behind her brought her to a halt.

‘Talk to me,’ said the man. ‘Don’t just stand there. I mean, have you given any thought to having kids, for instance?’

Half expecting to see Howard standing on the dock wall behind her, Kate glanced around. There was no one in sight.

‘Your biological clock,’ said the voice. ‘Well, it’s hardly slowing down, is it honey? I mean you leave it until you’re in your thirties and it becomes a lot harder to conceive, doesn’t it?’

Kate realized that the voice was coming from an open window near the bow of the Britannia. Who needed bugs when you had open windows? Not that there was anything about this conversation that was of particular interest to the FBI. It could easily have been Howard. How often had Kate heard him utter these same remarks?

‘What’s it to you?’ answered a woman’s voice. The accent was New Zealand. This was Gay Gilmore and Nicky Vallbona talking.

‘What’s it to me? Honey, I kind of thought that was one of the reasons why we were going to get married. To have kids.’

‘Is that right? Well you can think again, mate. The only biological clock I’ve got is the one that tells me when it’s time to have another fuck. And it’s got nothing to do with having kids. It’s just that I like fucking a lot more than I do the idea of having kids.’

‘What about maternal instinct?’

‘What about it?’

‘Every woman’s got some.’

‘Like hell they have.’

Kate stayed where she was, fascinated. It was like hearing actors reading dialogue she might have written for them. Scenes from a Marriage, or something of the kind. So far, she liked the actress playing herself.

‘Listen, Nick, I’ve got other plans, OK? If I’ve got a maternal instinct then it’s fulfilled by you licking my nipples and me remembering my mum’s birthday.’

Kate almost applauded: she would have to remember that line.

‘Motherhood is definitely not for me. I’ve got enough problems just looking after myself.’

Nicky moaned, ‘I just don’t understand a woman who doesn’t want to have children.’

There was a short silence during which Kate thought about what she had in common with Gay. At least, their choice to remain childless. She wondered how much Gay knew about the drugs that were hidden in the boat’s fuel tanks. She hoped nothing at all — Kate was already feeling sympathetic toward her. Enough to want to help her out when the time came to make the bust. It would be a shame if Gay had to go to prison. Nicky Vallbona’s reaction, on the other hand, had been just like Howard’s: unreasonable and selfish.

Gay said, ‘Nicky, you haven’t really thought about this. You and I. We’re not the kind of people to be bringing up children. It wouldn’t be right. When we get to Europe, when this is all over? We’ll have lots of money. Why don’t we just do what we do best? Enjoy ourselves. Have a good time. Just the two of us. No worries.’

‘Yeah, OK. I guess you’re right at that, honey. Shit, I’m not even sure why I mentioned it. But I’m chilled. You won’t hear another word about this. I promise.’

Kate walked sadly away. Sad that her own husband couldn’t have been as accommodating on the issue of children as a drug smuggler; and sad to hear that Gay probably did know what she was involved in. Not having children would be a lot easier for Gay when she was in prison.

Sometimes the job was difficult, in ways you could never foresee. Like discovering that dope smugglers could have the same conversations about ordinary human things as any law-abiding person.

Kent Bowen had just come off the radio and received the information he had requested — some of it anyway — when the man himself came knocking at the sliding glass door of the Carrera’s skylounge.

Dave said, ‘Hi there. Hope I’m not disturbing you?’

‘Hell, no,’ said Bowen, keen to meet Dave and get another look at the guy now that he knew a little more about who and what he was. ‘Come on in.’

Maybe he did work at the Financial Center in Miami, they were still checking that out. But of greater interest was the revelation that before coming into the ownership of an offshore company in Grand Cayman Island, David Dulanotov’s boat had been owned by a wiseguy by the name of Lou Malta, a small-time racketeer and former associate of Naked Tony Nudelli, one of the biggest hoods in Miami. It didn’t prove that Dave himself was a mobster, but it was enough to be going on with. Bowen promised himself that before the voyage was out he would know everything there was to know about David Dulanotov. He was going to be right about this guy. Dulanotov was a crook.

‘You have a beautiful boat,’ said Dave. ‘What’s her displacement?’

‘Come again?’

‘The tonnage.’

‘Forty. Forty tons.’

‘Really? I’d have said she looks nearer sixty, myself.’

‘You’re probably right,’ grinned Bowen. ‘I’m just the owner. If you want full specifications, you’d have to ask Kate. She knows everything there is to know about this boat. Me, I just enjoy having her.’ Saying that gave him an idea. Maybe he could put this guy off in his own way. By just dropping a broad hint that she was already spoken for, in the form of a joke — the kind a real owner would have made. He winked at Dave. ‘And the boat.’

Dave smiled thinly while Bowen got off on his own joke. Somehow he couldn’t see Kate fucking this guy. ‘Is Kate around?’

‘Let me go and fetch her,’ he said, happy to leave the skylounge before Dulanotov asked him any more questions about the boat that he couldn’t answer. Even Bowen thought you could play the dumb owner too far. ‘I think she’s down in her room. Help yourself to a drink, if you want one.’

Dave sat down in one of the black leather wheelhouse pilot chairs, smoothing his hand over the black lacquer tops on the maple units. Right away he noticed that the touch control handset for the radio was still warm, as was the transceiver’s slimline, diecast aluminium casing. It was only a few minutes since he had been in the radio room with Jock, since they had both heard the sound of another digitally scrambled broadcast from one of the boats on board the ship. Dave had no way of telling if the Carrera’s radio was fitted with a scrambler. All radios looked a little unusual after you’d been out of circulation for five years. But there could be no doubt, someone had been broadcasting from the radio on this boat. And if not to a submarine, then to what?

All of which begged the question. Who was Kent Bowen? And, more importantly for Dave, who was Kate Parmenter?

‘Hi there.’

Dave turned around and frowned. Kate looked like she’d been crying.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

‘I had something in my eye,’ she explained. ‘I’m fine. But I must look like I just sat through Gone with the Wind.’

‘Kind of.’ Dave grinned. ‘Is your boss coming back up?’

‘I don’t know. He comes and goes, y’know?’ Realizing Dave probably wanted to be private with her, she said, ‘Tell you what. I’ve a mind to go and see those ceremonial cannon. The ones that Captain Jellicoe stole from whoever it was. Shall we go and take a look?’

They crossed over onto the Juarista and then climbed up onto the Duke’s dock wall. Coming along the starboard side of the Jade, Dave said, ‘The reason I stopped by was to find out if you were going to the party tonight.’

‘Only if you are,’ she said. ‘Not that Kent would let us miss it. Ever since he found out what kind of films they make, his tongue’s been hanging out. The man has a libido that’s as big as his boat. Except he probably thinks a libido is something the French wash their feet in.’

Dave laughed and led the way up the gangway to the accommodations block.

‘Are you and he—?’

‘Jesus, no. Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘As a matter of fact, he did.’

‘What? You’re kidding.’

‘Just a remark he made. Nothing specific. But he seemed to imply there was something going on between you.’

‘That bastard. The only thing that’s ever been going on between us is me putting up with all his bullshit.’

‘What does he do anyway?’

‘You mean when he’s not being an asshole?’

Kate had given some thought to Kent Bowen’s cover story. Bowen had wanted to claim he was something glamorous like a film executive, or even a writer. But Kate had managed to persuade him that it should only be something he actually knew about. Maybe she could also persuade him to throw himself overboard and save her the trouble of doing it.

‘He owns a string of shops selling security and counter-surveillance merchandise. You know the kind of thing. Bugs that look like electrical plugs, and little safes that are inside a dummy can of Coke. Paranoid shit for paranoid times.’

Kate paused to light a cigarette and then followed Dave all the way forward to the bow of the boat. The sun-lounger was still there, but the cool-box and Jellicoe were gone.

‘He wants to open a chain of spy stores across Europe,’ she lied smoothly. ‘Tech Direct. That’s what the shops in the States are called. Anyway, there’s this big trade fair for all kinds of electronic gadgetry in Barcelona in two or three weeks’ time. Kind of every man his own James Bond. That’s where we’re headed, after we get to Mallorca.’

Dave nodded, asking himself if any of this might help explain why Kent Bowen had been using a digital scrambler on his radio. Meanwhile Kate thought it was time she changed the subject.

‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘What takes you to Europe?’

‘The Monaco Grand Prix,’ Dave lied with equal facility. ‘I like to watch motor racing. After that we’re sailing to Cap D’Antibes. I’ve rented a house there for the summer.’

‘By yourself?’

‘Some friends’ll probably drop by. From England.’

A gentle breeze stirred Kate’s hair and Dave found himself reaching to touch it. Her hair felt like silk against his hand. There was her perfume to think about too. After Homestead, all women smelt good to Dave. But Kate smelt especially good. Like something rich and luxurious.

He said, ‘You should come by, yourself. That is if you can get away from Q, Miss Moneypenny.’

‘I wonder, how many other girls you’ve invited down there.’

‘You’re the first,’ said Dave. ‘In love’s affairs, I’m a sweet beginner.’

‘That I don’t believe.’

‘I feed on hope’s uncertain dinner.’

Kate checked herself, realizing he was reciting something again.

‘For me the object on life’s chart is mysterious and enticing, something to think hard about, suspecting that wonders will accumulate. And so I’m sure, a kindred spirit will be joined to me by fate.’

She could hardly help but feel impressed.

‘Who’s that? she asked. ‘Van Morrison again?’

Dave shook his head. ‘It sounds better in Russian. No, it’s Pushkin. Freely rendered.’

Kate smiled and said, ‘I wasn’t offering to pay. But it’s nice. Did Pushkin find his kindred spirit?’

‘Yes, but it wasn’t a happy ending.’

‘What happened?’

‘Someone shot him. Guy called D’Anthes.’

‘No gun law can stop a madman,’ she shrugged. ‘If, as you said, I can get away from Q, I’d love to come visit. Cap D’Antibes, huh? I guess it’s very chic down there.’

‘Like Valentino.’

‘That’s the part that worries me. Alone, in a foreign country, without even a native guide. Anything could happen.’

‘Last night it almost did.’

Kate smiled and said, ‘Last night? Oh, that wasn’t anything at all. That was just sex. Today it feels more like a subject on Oprah. A whole show. How the two of us met. Or some stuff like that.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Dave. ‘I feel the same way.’

‘D’Antibes. D’Anthes. Don’t worry. You’re a regular red light, you know that, Van? Anyone would think you’re trying to send me some kind of signal.’

‘Hailing on all frequencies, Lieutenant Uhura.’

‘Go ahead, Captain.’

‘It sounds kind of stupid, but I’m falling in love with you. Maybe it wasn’t exactly love at first sight. If that’s what it was I’d have said so yesterday. But it runs a pretty close second.’

‘Photo-finish, I’d say.’ Kate stroked Dave’s cheek with the back of her hand. ‘Besides, it’s having second sight that counts. Ask any fortune teller. You know something, Van. You remind me of my lawyer.’

Dave laughed. ‘Your lawyer? How’s that?’

‘You remind me to call him and find out what’s holding up my divorce.’

‘Do you think you and I would make a good team?’

‘Could be.’

He paused for a second, as he deliberated the best way of checking her out. It was one thing for her to say she loved him. After all, she thought he was a regular guy, or as regular as you could be when you also happened to be a millionaire. It would be quite another thing for her to say that she was willing to hook up with a thief. And not just any thief. A very uncommon thief.

‘Together, you and I, we could make some real money.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Wouldn’t you like to make some real money?’

‘That all depends on what I’d have to do to get it. I don’t see the two of us winning a mixed doubles at Forest Hills.’

‘What if I told you I was about to play a game of cards with four aces in my hand?’

‘I’d ask if this hand was on the table or up your sleeve?’

Dave was silent.

‘Uh-oh,’ said Kate. ‘Sounds like there’s a racket involved after all. I don’t know, Van. I’d say Monte Carlo’s a pretty neat place to go with four aces.’

‘What if I said it was five aces?’

‘They’ve got names for people like that, Van. Numbers too. And you have to watch your ass when you’re taking a shower.’ She grinned uncertainly. ‘This is a joke, isn’t it? You’re not a gambler, are you?’

‘I was speaking metaphorically,’ said Dave.

‘Oh I see. A metaphor. I’m glad. Here was me thinking maybe I’d met a cheat.’

‘But there are risks involved. And high stakes. For big rewards.’

Kate kept on smiling. She felt if she stopped she might find it hard to start it up again. The conversation had gone in a completely unexpected direction. For a moment there she’d thought they were going to declare undying love and talk about getting married. But now she didn’t know what to think. She said, ‘Next thing you’ll be telling me you’re really some kind of high-class jewel thief now living quietly in a hilltop villa on the Cote d’Azur. Like Cary Grant in To Catch a Thief. Come on, Dave. What is this?’

Dave considered the suggestion carefully for a second or two. Why not? Being a high-class jewel thief would do very nicely for the kind of litmus test he had in mind. After all, if she was prepared to take on a cat burglar then she ought to be prepared to take on a pirate, or whatever you wanted to call a guy who took down a score on board a ship.

‘I’m perfectly serious, Kate.’

Still trying to keep her good humor, Kate’s smile became a little strained. She said, ‘To be quite frank with you? I’ve never seen myself in any of Grace Kelly’s roles. For one thing, I’m a much better driver. For another? Well for another, does that film have a happy ending or not? I can’t remember. And wasn’t Cary Grant a reformed jewel thief trying to clear his name?’ She stopped, exasperated, good humor disappearing now. ‘Jesus, David, you don’t do this kind of thing to a girl you’ve just fallen in love with. You know, when people get married and they say for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse? There’s nothing about for right and for wrong.’ Now she was feeling anxious. Like she’d won the lottery and couldn’t find her ticket. ‘It’s not supposed to happen like this. Look, maybe you got the wrong idea about me. That Rita Hayworth, Gilda thing last night? It was just an act. I’m just a small-town girl. From T’ville, remember?’

‘What happened to the girl from the Space Coast?’

‘Houston, we’ve got a problem. I think the rocket just blew up on the launch pad.’

Dave kissed her again, as if to reassure her. Then he said, ‘Are you sure about that?’

‘No,’ she said weakly, and kissed him back. ‘But I’ve got a feeling I’m not going to land on the moon. My guidance systems have gone haywire.’

‘You just need some time to get them realigned, that’s all. You can still complete your mission.’

‘If you say so.’ Kate smiled wryly. ‘Listen to me, Dave. Can we talk sensibly for a moment? This isn’t a movie. This is real.’

‘What’s real? Someone once said that we wouldn’t know how to fall in love if we hadn’t read about it first. Well, it’s kind of the same with movies. Maybe even more so. Sometimes, when I look back on my life all that I can remember are the good movies and favorite TV shows. Most of the best times I’ve had have been in movie theaters. I think that’s true of people everywhere, Kate. Some of our most extraordinary experiences are in the movies. Not watching them, you understand, because if it’s a good movie, it’s like you’re part of it. Now that’s what I call virtual reality, not some motorcycle helmet you have to stick on your head to see the hand in front of your face.’ Dave shrugged. ‘So, what’s real? I don’t know. What I am sure about is that things are only as ordinary as you want them to be. If you want your life to feel as exciting as a movie, then that’s the way you’ve got to live it.’

Kate laughed and kissed him quickly.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘What have been your most extraordinary experiences?’

Dave thought for a second. Then he said, ‘Walking into town with the Wild Bunch. Easy riding a motorcycle alongside Captain America. Running north by north-west from that crop-dusting airplane. Being seduced by Mrs Robinson. Escaping through Vienna’s sewer system. Showing a clean pair of heels to a ten-ton rollerball in an Inca temple. Riding a chariot against Messala in the Circus at Antioch. Destroying the Death Star with my last missile. Playing chess with Death. Kissing Hedy Lamarr. Kissing Grace Kelly. Kissing you.’

‘You’re right. You have had an interesting life.’

‘It’s like I told you, Kate. Everyone has movie moments they remember. And this can be one of them. If you want it to be.’

‘You could be right,’ said Kate. ‘But like you also said, I need some more time to think about how I’m going to play this particular scene.’

‘Don’t take too long about it,’ urged Dave. ‘In a few days we start shooting.’