Santorini

5

They had rowed about a mile when Talbot called up the Ariadne. He spoke briefly, listened briefly, then turned to McKenzie who was at the tiller.

‘Ship oars. The timing device is still at it so I think we’ll start the engine. Gently, at first. At this distance I hardly think we’d trigger anything even if the bomb was activated, but no chances. Course 095.’

There were nine of them in the whaler – Talbot, Van Gelder, the two divers, McKenzie and the four seamen who had rowed them so far. Those last would not be required again until they reached the last mile of the return trip.

After about forty minutes Van Gelder moved up into the bows with a portable six-inch searchlight which, on such a clear night, had an effective range of over a mile. The searchlight was probably superfluous for there was a three-quarter moon and Talbot, with his night-glasses, had a clear bearing on the monastery and the radar station on Mount Elias. Van Gelder returned within minutes and handed the searchlight to McKenzie.

‘Fine off the port bow, Chief.’

‘I have it,’ McKenzie said. The yellow buoy, in the light of both the moon and the searchlight, was clearly visible. ‘Do I anchor?’

‘Not necessary,’ Talbot said. ‘No current that’s worth speaking of, no wind, a heavy anchor weight and a stout anchor rope. Just make fast to the buoy.’

In course of time McKenzie did just that and the four divers slipped over the side, touching down on the deck of the Delos just over an hour after leaving the Ariadne. Carrington and Grant disappeared down the for’ard companionway while Talbot and Van Gelder took the after one.

Talbot didn’t bother entering the after stateroom. The two girls had stayed there and he knew it would hold nothing of interest for him. He looked at the dead engineer, or the man whom Van Gelder had taken to be the engineer because of his blue overalls, and examined the back of his head carefully. The occiput had not been crushed and there were no signs of either bruising or blood in the vicinity of the deep gash in the skin of the skull. He rejoined Van Gelder who had already moved into the engine-room.

There was, of course, no smoke there now and very little traces of oil. In the light of their two powerful flashlights visibility was all that could be wished for and it took them only two minutes to carry out their examination: unless one is looking for some obscure mechanical fault there is very little to look for in an engine-room. On their way out they opened up a tool-box and took out a long slender chisel apiece.

They found the bridge, when they arrived there, to be all that they would have expected a bridge on such a yacht to be, with a plethora of expensive and largely unnecessary navigational aids, but in all respects perfectly innocuous. Only one thing took Talbot’s attention, a wooden cupboard on the after bulkhead. It was locked, but on the understandable assumption that Andropulos wouldn’t be having any further use for it Talbot wrenched it open with a chisel. It contained the ship’s papers and ship’s log, nothing more.

A door on the port side of the same bulkhead led to a combined radio-room and chart-room. The chart-room section held nothing that a chartroom should not have had, including a locked cupboard which Talbot opened in the same cavalier fashion he had used on the bridge: it held only pilot books and sailing directions. Andropulos, it seemed, just liked locking cupboards. The radio was a standard RCA. They left.

They found Carrington and Grant waiting for them in the saloon. Carrington was carrying what appeared to be a portable radio: Grant had a black metallic box slightly larger than a sheet of foolscap paper and less than three inches thick. Carrington put his visor close to Talbot’s.

‘All we could find. Of interest, I mean.’

‘We have enough.’

‘Dispatch would appear to be the keynote of your investigations, Commander,’ Hawkins said. Glass in hand, he was seated across the wardroom table from Talbot, ‘I mean, you seem to spend singularly little time on your – um – aquatic investigation.’

‘You can find out interesting things in a very short space of time, sir. Too much, for some people.’

‘You refer to our shipwrecked friends?’

‘Who else? Five things, sir. Van Gelder was right, there were no signs of bruising or blood where the engineer had been gashed on the head. An examination of the engine-room turned up no signs of protrusions, angle-beams or sharp metallic corners that could have caused the injury. Circumstantial evidence, I know, but evidence that strongly suggests that the engineer was clobbered by a heavy metallic instrument. No shortage of those in an engine-room. We have, of course, no clue as to the identity of the assailant.

‘Secondly, I’m afraid the owner of the Delos has been guilty of telling you fibs, Admiral. He said he did not abandon the Delos because he was afraid that the reserve fuel tank might blow up. There is no such tank.’

‘Isn’t that interesting. Does make things look a little black for Andropulos.’

‘It does a bit. He could always claim of course that he knew nothing of the layout of the engine-room and had always assumed that there had to be a reserve tank or that in a panic-stricken concern for the welfare of his beloved niece he had quite forgotten that there was no such tank. He’s undoubtedly intelligent, we know he’s a thespian of some note and could put up a spirited and convincing defence in court. But he’d have no defence against a further charge that the explosion was not due to natural causes, unless you regard the detonation of a bomb, almost certainly a plastic explosive, under the main fuel tank as being a natural cause.’

‘Well, well, well. One wonders how he’ll talk his way out of this one. You’re quite certain, of course?’

‘We are wounded, sir,’ Van Gelder said. ‘The Captain and I are developing quite some expertise on the effects of explosives on metal. In the bomber, the metal of the fuselage was blown outwards: in this case the metal of the fuel tank was blown inwards.’

‘We are not explosives experts, sir,’ Talbot said. ‘But it would seem that Andropulos wasn’t either.’ He nodded towards Carrington and Grant. ‘But those two gentlemen are experts. We were talking about it on the way back. They reckon that Andropulos – if it was Andropulos, it could have been Alexander or Aristotle – made an amateurish blunder. They say the villain, whoever he was, should have used what they call an inverted beehive plastic explosive attached to the underside of the tank by a magnetic clamp, in which case more than ninety per cent of the explosive charge would have been directed upwards. It would seem that they didn’t use such a device.’

Hawkins looked at Carrington. ‘You can be sure of this, Chief?’

‘As sure as can be, sir. We do know that he couldn’t have used a beehive. The explosive charge would have been either flat, circular or cylindrical and in any of those cases the disruptive explosive power would have been uniformly distributed in all directions. Grant and I think he didn’t deliberately sink the yacht but that he just, through ignorance, kind of accidentally blew a hole through the bottom.’

‘If it weren’t for the three dead men, this could be almost amusing. As it is, one has to admit that life is full of its little ironies. What’s that you’ve got in front of you there, Carrington?’

‘Some sort of radio, sir. Took it from the Alexander’s cabin.’

‘Why did you take it?’

‘Struck me as odd, sir, unusual, out of place, you might say. Every cabin is fitted with its own bulkhead radio – all probably fed from the central radio in the saloon. So why should he require this additional radio, especially when he had access to – and was probably the only user of – the much superior radio in his radio-room?’

Talbot looked at Denholm. ‘Just a standard radio, is it?’

‘Not quite.’ Denholm took the radio and examined it briefly. ‘A transceiver, which means it can transmit as well as receive. Hundreds of them around, thousands, most commonly as ship-to-shore radios in private yachts. Also used in geological and seismological work and construction building. Remote control detonation.’ He paused and looked around myopically. ‘I don’t want to sound sinister, but it could equally well be used to trigger off the detonator in an explosive device being carried by an American Air Force bomber.’

There was a brief silence, then Hawkins said: ‘I don’t want to complain, Denholm, but you do rather tend to complicate matters.’

‘I used the word “could”, sir, not “did”. On the whole, given the mysterious and inexplicable circumstances, I rather think I prefer the word “did”. If that is the case it leads, of course, to even more mysteries. How did Andropulos or whoever know when, and from where, that bomber was leaving? How did he know its cargo? How did he know an explosive device was being smuggled aboard? How did he know the radio wavelength to set it off? And, of course, there’s the why, why, why.’

The silence was considerably longer this time. Finally, Hawkins said: ‘Maybe we’re doing Andropulos an injustice. Maybe Alexander is the mastermind.’

‘Not a chance, sir.’ Van Gelder was definite. ‘Andropulos lied about the spare tank. He has connections with main centres of known gunrunning activities. The fact that Alexander, who unquestionably plays the role of assistant villain, had the radio in his cabin is of no significance. I should imagine that Irene Charial might be in the habit of dropping in on her uncle occasionally and he wouldn’t want her saying, “Whatever are you doing with a spare radio in your cabin, Uncle?” I can hardly imagine her dropping in on Alexander at any time, far less occasionally. So, Alexander kept the radio.’

‘You mentioned the possibility of an insider at this Air Force base in America, sir,’ Talbot said, ‘I think we should be thinking in terms of a whole platoon of insiders. You will be composing messages for the Pentagon, Air Force Intelligence and the CIA? Suitably etched in acid. I think by this time they must be dreading the thought of another signal from the Ariadne. I don’t see much point in your going to Washington and entering a popularity stakes contest.’

‘The slings and arrows – well, we’re accustomed to injustices. What do you have in that box?’

‘Petty Officer Grant picked this up in Andropulos’s cabin. Haven’t opened it yet.’ Not without difficulty he undid two spring clips and lifted the lid. ‘Waterproof, by Jove.’ He looked at the contents. ‘Means nothing to me.’

Hawkins took the box from him, lifted out some sheets of paper and a paperback book, examined them briefly and shook his head. ‘Means nothing to me, either. Denholm?’

Denholm shuffled through the papers. ‘In Greek, naturally. Looks like a list of names, addresses and telephone numbers to me. But I can’t make sense of it.’

‘I thought you understood Greek?’

‘I do. But I don’t understand Grecian code. And this is what it’s written in – a code.’

‘Code! Damn it to hell.’ Hawkins spoke with considerable feeling. ‘This could be urgent. Vital.’

‘It’s more than likely, sir.’ Denholm looked at the paperback. ‘Homer’s Odyssey. I don’t suppose it’s here just by coincidence. If we knew the connection between the poem and what’s written on those sheets, then cracking the code would be child’s play. But we don’t have the key. That’s locked away inside Andropulos’s mind. Anagrams and word puzzles are not in my line of country, sir. I’m no cryptologist.’

Hawkins looked moodily at Talbot. ‘You don’t have a code-cracker among this motley crew you have aboard?’

‘To the best of my knowledge, no. And certainly not a Greek code-cracker. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find one, I should imagine. The Greek Defence Ministry and their Secret Service are bound to have some cryptologists on their staffs. Just a radio call and a half-hour’s flight away, sir.’

Hawkins glanced at his watch. ‘Two a.m. All God-fearing cryptologists are tucked up in their beds by this time.’

‘So are all God-fearing admirals,’ Denholm said. ‘Besides, my friend Wotherspoon didn’t mind being rousted out of bed an hour ago. Positively cheerful about it, in fact.’

Talbot said: ‘Who, may I ask warily, is Wotherspoon?’

‘Professor Wotherspoon. My friend with the Aegean lugger. You asked me to contact him, remember? Lives in Naxos, seven or eight hours’ sail from here. He’s on his way with the Angelina.’

‘Very civil of him, I must say. Angelina? Odd name.’

‘Better not let him hear you say that, sir. Name of his lugger. Ancient and honoured Grecian name, some sort of classical goddess, I believe. Also the name of his wife. Charming lady.’

‘Is he – what shall we say? – slightly eccentric?’

‘All depends upon what you mean by eccentric. He regards the rest of the world as being slightly eccentric.’

‘A professor? What does he profess?’

‘Archæology. Used to. He’s retired now.’

‘Retired? Oh dear. I mean, have we any right to bring an elderly archæologist into this?’

‘Don’t let him hear you say that either, sir. He’s not elderly. Old man left him a fortune.’

‘You warned him of the perils, of course?’

‘As directly as I could. Seemed amused. Said his ancestors fought at Agincourt and Crécy. Something to that effect.’

‘What’s good enough for a retired archæologist should be good enough for a Greek cryptologist,’ Hawkins said. ‘Not that I follow the logic of that. If you would be so good, Commander.’

‘We’ll radio Athens right away. Two things, sir. I suggest we release Andropulos and his friends for breakfast and leave them free. Sure, we’ve got plenty on them, but as yet no conclusive proof and the three A’s – Andropulos, Aristotle and Alexander – are a close-mouthed and secretive lot and we can be certain they won’t talk to us or give anything away. But they might, just might, talk among themselves. Lieutenant Denholm will lurk unobtrusively. They don’t, and won’t, know that he talks Greek as well as they do. Number One, would you tell McKenzie to warn the four seamen who were with us tonight that they are on no account to mention the fact that we were on the Delos. Keel-hauling, walking the plank, that sort of thing. One other thing. The presence of the cryptographer, when he arrives, will not go unnoticed.’

‘He’s not a cryptographer,’ Van Gelder said. ‘Peace be to Lieutenant Denholm but he’s a civilian electronics specialist who’s come out to fix some abstruse electronic fault that only he can fix. Also gives a splendid reason for him to use Denholm’s cabin while he gets on with his decoding.’

‘Well, thank you very much.’ Denholm smiled and turned to Talbot. ‘With the Captain’s permission, I’d like to retire there right now and get some sleep before this impostor arrives.’

‘An excellent idea. Vice-Admiral Hawkins, Professor Benson, Dr Wickram, I suggest you follow his example. I promise you we’ll give you a shake if anything untoward occurs.’

‘Another excellent idea,’ Hawkins said. ‘After our nightcap. And after you’ve sent your signal to Athens and I’ve composed a suitably stirring message to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff in Washington.’

‘Stirring?’

‘Certainly. Why should I be the only one suffering from insomnia? I shall tell him that we have every reason to believe that the bomber was carrying a smuggled explosive device aboard, that its detonation was triggered by a radio wave and that we have the miscreant responsible in our hands. Reason to believe, not proof. I shall name Andropulos. I shall want to know how he knew when and from where that bomber was taking off. How did he know what it was carrying? How could this explosive device possibly have been smuggled aboard? How did he know the radio wavelength to set it off? I shall suggest that our concern should be made immediately known to the White House, Air Force Intelligence, the CIA and the FBI. I will suggest that Andropulos has been provided with top-level, ultra-secret information from a very senior official. I will suggest that this should considerably narrow their field of search. I will further suggest that it seems very likely that the traitor is in his own fiefdom, the Pentagon.’

‘Stirring indeed. Laying it on the line as you might say.’ Talbot paused, ‘It has occurred to you, Admiral Hawkins, that you might also be laying your own career on the line?’

‘Only if I’m wrong.’

‘Only if we’re wrong.’

‘In the circumstances, a bagatelle. You would do exactly the same thing.’

‘Five o’clock, sir.’ Talbot woke in his sea-cabin abaft the bridge to find Van Gelder bending over him. ‘The Kilcharran is three miles out.’

‘What’s the latest word from sonar?’

‘Still ticking away, sir. Captain Montgomery says he’s going to shut down his engines in another half-mile. Sees us clearly and reckons he’ll come to a stop more or less alongside. He says that if he’s going to overshoot he’ll use a sea anchor or drop a stern anchor and if he stops short of us he’ll send a crew with a rope. From the way he talks he seems to regard either possibility as a remote contingency. Doesn’t seem the shy or bashful type.’

‘I gathered as much from the admiral. Has our cryptologist arrived?’

‘Yes. Calls himself Theodore. Speaks perfect English but I suppose he’s Greek. Installed in Denholm’s cabin. Denholm himself is up in the wardroom trying to resume his slumbers.’ Van Gelder broke off to accept a sheet of paper from a seaman who had appeared in the doorway, glanced briefly at the message and handed it without a word to Talbot, who read it in turn, muttered something inaudible and swung his legs to the deck.

‘He’ll have to try to resume his slumbers later on. Tell him to join us in the admiral’s cabin at once.’

A pyjama-clad Vice-Admiral Hawkins, propped up on the pillows of his bunk, glowered at the message in his hand and passed it across to Denholm. ‘Pentagon. Unsigned. This krytron device you suggested.’

‘If I were the spluttering type, which I’m not, this would be a sure fire-starter.’ Denholm re-read the message. ‘“Understand krytron experimental device in hand. Endeavour expedite soonest clearance.” Gobbledygook, sir. Writer is ignorant or stupid or thinks he’s clever. Very likely all three at once. What does he mean – “endeavour”? He can either do it or not. What does he mean – “understand”? He either knows or not. Expedite? Means to try to hurry things along. The Pentagon doesn’t expedite – they demand immediate compliance. Same goes for that meaningless word “soonest”. Again, should be immediate. Clearance by whom? The Pentagon can clear anything they want. What do they mean – “experimental”? Either it works or it doesn’t. And doesn’t the phrase “in hand” have a splendid meaningless vagueness about it. Gobbledygook, sir.’

‘Jimmy’s right, sir,’ Talbot said, ‘It’s insulting. Stalling for time. What they’re saying in effect is that they’re not going to entrust their latest toy to their closest ally because we’d flog it to the first Russian we came across.’

‘It’s rich,’ Denholm said, ‘It’s really wonderful. The Americans positively force their Stinger surface-to-air missiles on the rebels who are fighting the Marxist regime in Angola and the Contras in Nicaragua. It’s no secret that those guerrilla bands contain a fair proportion of characters who are just as undesirable as the dictatorial governments they’re supposed to be fighting and who would have no hesitation in disposing of those $60,000 missiles, at a fraction of their cost, to any passing terrorists who, in turn, would have no hesitation in loosing off one of those missiles at a passing Boeing 747, preferably one packed with five hundred American citizens. But that’s perfectly OK for the American administration’s ad hoc knee-jerk set of reactions that passes for their foreign policy. But it’s unthinkable that they should allow the krytron into the hands of their oldest ally. It makes me sick.’

‘It makes me mad,’ Hawkins said. ‘Let us give them a lesson on clear and unequivocal English. “Unsigned message received. Meaningless mumbo-jumbo designed to stall and delay. Demand immediate repeat immediate repeat immediate dispatch of krytron or immediate repeat immediate repeat immediate explanation of why not available. Sender of message and person responsible for delay in clearance will be held directly responsible for possible deaths of thousands. Can you not imagine the world-wide reaction when it is learnt that not only is America responsible for this potential disaster but that it was almost certainly caused by treason in the highest American military echelons? A copy of this message is being sent directly to the President of the United States.” That do, you think?’

‘You could have pitched it a bit more strongly, sir,’ Talbot said, ‘but I’d have to spend the rest of the night thinking how. You spoke earlier of sleepless heads along the Potomac. I think we should now talk of heads rolling along the Potomac. If I were you, sir, I’d keep clear of Washington for some little time, by which I mean the rest of your life.’ He rose. ‘The Kilcharran will be alongside in a few minutes. I assume you are in no hurry to meet Captain Montgomery?’

‘You assume right. There is no charity in me.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Five-thirteen. My respects to the captain and ask him to join me for breakfast at, say, eight-thirty. In my cabin here.’

Captain Montgomery, whether by luck or design – design, Talbot was certain – brought the Kilcharran alongside the Ariadne with faultless precision. Talbot stepped across the two gunwales – they were almost exactly of a height – and made his way up to the bridge. Captain Montgomery was a tall, burly character with a jutting black beard, white teeth, a slightly hooked nose and humorous eyes and, in spite of the immaculately cut uniform and four golden rings on either cuff, could easily have passed for a well-to-do and genial eighteenth-century Caribbean pirate. He extended a hand.

‘You’ll be Commander Talbot, of course.’ The voice was deep, the Irish brogue unmistakable. ‘You are welcome aboard. Has there been any further deterioration in the situation?’

‘No. The only deterioration possible, Captain, is one I don’t care to imagine.’

‘Indeed. I shall be sadly missed in the Mountains of Mourne. We’re great ones for the lamentations, the weepings and the wailings in the Mountains of Mourne. Is this atom bomb, or whatever, still ticking away?’

‘It is. I suppose you might call it a deterioration when the ticking stops. You shouldn’t have come here, Captain. You should have nipped into the Gulf of Corinth – you might have stood a chance there.’

‘Not to be thought of for a moment. Nothing to do with heroics – heroics are for those epics they make in Hollywood – or the fact that I couldn’t live with myself. I just couldn’t stand the thought of what that man would say.’

‘You’ll be referring to Vice-Admiral Hawkins?’

‘The very same. Maligning and blackening my character as usual, I dare say?’

‘Hardly.’ Talbot smiled. ‘He did, mind you, make some casual remark about you being allergic to certain naval regulations. He also said you’re the best in the business.’

‘Aye. A fair man and a bloody good admiral – but don’t tell him I said so. I suggest coffee in my cabin, Commander, and perhaps you’ll be kind enough to tell me all you know.’

‘That shouldn’t take long.’

‘Eleven p.m.,’ the President said. ‘What’s the time over there?’

‘Six a.m. There’s a seven-hour time difference.’

‘A very forthright character, this Admiral Hawkins.’ The President gazed thoughtfully at the two dispatches lying on his desk. ‘You know him, of course?’

‘Pretty well, sir.’

‘An able man, General?’

‘Exceptionally so.’

‘He also appears to be an exceptionally tough s.o.b.’

‘That’s undoubtedly true, sir. But then you have to be to command the NATO Mediterranean sea forces.’

‘Do you know him, John?’ This was to John Heiman, the Defence Secretary, the only other person present.

‘Yes. Not as well as the General, but well enough to agree with the General’s assessment.’

‘Pity I never met him. Who selected him for the job, General?’

‘Usual NATO committee.’

‘You were on it, of course?’

‘Yes. I was the chairman.’

‘Ah. The man with the casting vote?’

‘No casting vote. The decision was unanimous.’

‘I see. He – well, he seems to have rather a low opinion of the Pentagon.’

‘He doesn’t exactly say that. But he does appear to have a low opinion, deep suspicions if you like, of a person or persons in the Pentagon.’

‘Puts you in a rather unhappy position. I mean, there must be some stirrings in the Pentagon dovecote.’

‘As you say, Mr President, a few ruffled feathers. Some are hopping mad. Others are giving the matter serious consideration. Generally, you could speak of an air of quiet consternation.’

‘Are you, personally, prepared to lend any credence to this outrageous suggestion? Or what appears to be outrageous?’

‘Think the unthinkable? I don’t have any option, do I? Every instinct says no, this cannot be, those are all my friends and colleagues of many years standing, all honourable men. But instinct is a fallible guide, Mr President. Common sense and what little knowledge of history I have tells me that every man has his price. I have to investigate. The enquiry is already under way. I thought it prudent not to involve the intelligence arms of the four services. So, the FBI. The Pentagon does not care to be investigated by the FBI. It’s an extremely difficult and delicate situation, sir.’

‘Yes. One can hardly go up to an admiral of the fleet and ask him what he was doing on the night of Friday the thirteenth. I wish you luck.’ The President looked at one of the papers before him. ‘Your message re the krytron that provoked Hawkins’s ire must have been badly handled.’

‘It was. Very badly. The matter has been attended to.’

‘This krytron device. Is it operational?’

‘Yes.’

‘Been sent?’ The General shook his head, the President pressed a button and a young man entered. ‘Take this message for the General here. “Krytron device en route. Would greatly appreciate up-to-date assessment of existing problems and measures being taken. Fully appreciate extreme gravity, dangers and complexities of the situation. I personally guarantee total and immediate repeat immediate repeat immediate support and cooperation in all measures undertaken.” That should do it. Sign my name.’

‘I hope he appreciates the three “immediates”,’ the General said.

‘Eight-forty, sir,’ McKenzie said. ‘Admiral’s apologies, but he’d like to see you. He’s in his cabin with Captain Montgomery.’

Talbot thanked him, rose, washed the sleep from his face and eyes and made his way to the admiral’s quarters. A shirtsleeved Hawkins beckoned him to join himself and Montgomery at the breakfast table.

‘Coffee? Sorry to disturb you but these are times that are sent to try men’s souls.’ For a troubled soul Hawkins looked remarkably fresh, rested and relaxed and was attacking his breakfast with some gusto. ‘Captain Montgomery has been reporting the state of progress and I thought you might like to hear it. Incidentally, our friend the timing device is still ticking merrily away.’

‘We are making progress,’ Montgomery said. ‘Slow but steady – slow, because the presence of what the Admiral calls your friend the timing device does have a rather inhibitory effect and we’re probably taking some quite needless precautions as far as acoustic levels are concerned. But we’re dealing with a devil we don’t know and we’re paying the devil more than his due. Our own sonar is now locked on to this device and the sonar room has suddenly become the focal centre of interest in the Kilcharran.

‘We have achieved two things. First, by coupling up the battery resources of our two vessels we have ample electric power to lift this wreck. Your young Lieutenant Denholm looks and talks like a character out of P. G. Wodehouse, but he unquestionably knows his stuff. Your engineer officer, McCafferty, is no slouch either and neither is mine. Anyway, no problem. Secondly, we’ve cut away the port wing of the bomber.’

‘You’ve what?’ Talbot said.

‘Well, you know how it is.’ Montgomery sounded almost apologetic. ‘It was three parts torn away in any case and I figured that neither you nor the US Air Force would have any further use for it. So I had it burnt off.’ Despite his faint air of apology, it was quite clear that Montgomery had no regrets about what had been a wholly unilateral decision: as the only expert on the spot, he had no intention of consulting anybody. ‘A difficult decision and a tricky operation. No one, as far as I know, has ever before cut away the wing of a submerged big jet. That’s where the fuel tanks are located and though it seemed likely that the partial tearing away of the wing had also ruptured the fuel lines and spilled the fuel, there was no way of being sure and no one, again as far as I know, has ever come up against the problem of what happens when an oxyacetylene jet meets a fuel tank under water. But my men were very careful, there was no fuel and so no trouble. And now, at the present moment, my men are securing flotation bags and lifting slings to the plane.

‘Removing this wing gives us two advantages, one minor, one major. The minor one is that with the wing and two very heavy jet engines gone we have all that less to lift although I’m certain we could have lifted the whole lot without trouble. The major one is that the wing, had it been left there, would have snagged on the underside of the Kilcharran as it surfaced and tilted the fuselage, maybe to so acute an angle as to make access to this damned bomb difficult or impossible.’

‘Very well done, Captain,’ Hawkins said. ‘But surely there’s still one problem. When the bomber surfaces, isn’t the weight of the remaining wing and its two engines going to tilt it just as far in the other direction?’

Montgomery smiled in a kindly and tolerant fashion which any average person would have found more than wildly infuriating. Hawkins, fortunately, was not an average person.

‘No problem,’ Montgomery said. ‘We’re also securing flotation bags under that wing. When the fuselage surfaces, the wings will still be under water – you know how low wings are set on a modern jet. In the first stage of surfacing, only the top of the fuselage will be above water-level – when we cut away a rectangular section over where the bomb is located I want as much water as possible below that section to dissipate the heat of the oxyacetylene torches. After we’ve made that hole in the top we’ll lift the fuselage high enough to drain most of the water from it.’

‘How long will it take to inflate the bags and haul the plane to the surface?’

‘An hour or two. I don’t know.’

‘An hour or two?’ Hawkins made no attempt to conceal his surprise, ‘I should have thought a few minutes. You don’t know, you say. I would have thought those things could have been pretty closely calculated.’

‘Normally, yes.’ Montgomery’s air of massive restraint was on a par for provocation with his kindly tolerance. ‘But normally we’d use powerful diesel compressors. Out of deference to the little lady lying on the sea floor, no diesel. Electricity again but using only a fraction of the power. So, an indeterminate period. Do you think I could have some more coffee?’ Montgomery clearly regarded the conversation as over.

Van Gelder knocked on the opened door and entered, a message slip in his hand. He handed it to Hawkins.

‘For you, Admiral. Came in a couple of hours or so ago. Not urgent, so I didn’t think it worth waking you for it.’

‘A wise decision, my boy.’ Hawkins read it, smiled broadly and handed it to Talbot, who glanced at it, smiled in turn and read it out aloud.

‘Well, well,’ Talbot said. ‘Hobnobbing with presidents. Perhaps, after all, sir, you could walk down Pennsylvania Avenue without being clapped in irons or whatever they do to you over in those parts. More importantly, you have the krytron and this splendid pledge of cooperation. Your indignation – the less charitable would call it calculated gamble – has paid off. I like the “repeat immediate” bit. The President would appear to have a sense of humour.’

‘He would indeed. One has to be grateful to him for intervening personally. Very, very satisfactory. I note that he requires information. Would you, please.’

‘Naturally. Emphasis, of course, on the gravity and the dangers?’

‘Of course.’

‘Another item of news, sir,’ Van Gelder said to Talbot. ‘I’ve just had a rather intriguing chat with Irene Charial.’

‘I can well imagine that. Andropulos and company, of course, are now at liberty. How are they this fine morning?’

‘Glowering a bit, sir. At least Andropulos and Alexander were. But the cook was in fine form and they seemed to be thawing a bit when I left them chattering away in Greek with Denholm sitting among them and not understanding a word they were saying. Irene wasn’t there.’

‘Oh? So, naturally, overcome by concern, you hurried up to my cabin to enquire after her health.’

‘Naturally. I knew that was what you would want me to do, sir. She didn’t look as if she had slept too well and admitted as much. Seemed worried, apprehensive even. At first she was rather reluctant to talk about what was bothering her. Misplaced loyalty, I should say.’

‘I would say so too,’ Talbot said. ‘If, that is, I knew what you were talking about.’

‘Sorry. Turned out she wanted to know if Uncle Adam had been sending any radio messages. It seems–’

‘Uncle Adam?’

‘Adamantios Andropulos. His parents have a lot to answer for. Seems that she and her pal Eugenia – both sets of parents live in Piræus, the two girls are at the University in Athens – were in the habit of phoning home every night. She wanted their parents to know that they had had an accident, were safely aboard a Royal Navy ship and would be home soon.’

‘I hope she’s right,’ Hawkins said.

‘Me too, sir. I told her no messages had been sent and suggested that if Uncle was a businessman – I thought it better not to mention that we already knew he was a multi-millionaire businessman – he might naturally tend to be secretive and that he might also be reluctant to broadcast the fact that he had lost his yacht through what might have been his own fault. She said that was no excuse for not informing the next of kin of the three crew members of the Delos who had died. I asked her if she had raised the question with him and she said no. She was a bit evasive on this point. I gather she either doesn’t know very much about Uncle Adam or doesn’t care very much about what she does know.’ Van Gelder produced a paper from his pocket, ‘I told her to write a message and I would see it was sent.’

Talbot looked at the paper, ‘It’s in Greek. Perhaps this Uncle Adam–’

‘We share the same nasty, suspicious mind, sir. I called Jimmy from the breakfast table. Quite innocent, he says.’

‘I have a better idea. Take the two young ladies to the radio-room. It’s a simple matter to lock into the telephone land lines through the Piræus radio station. They can talk direct to their folks.’

‘With Jimmy just happening to be there?’

‘We share, as you say, the same nasty, suspicious minds. Before you do that, however, I think we’ll go and see how our latest recruit is getting on.’

‘Ah! Our resident cryptologist. Theodore.’

‘Theodore. After we’ve seen him and the young ladies have finished their calls I want you to take Irene Charial aside.’

‘And engage her in casual conversation?’

‘What else? It would seem that she and her uncle are less than soul-mates and, of course, she will be feeling suitably grateful to you for having permitted her to speak to her folks. Find out what you can about Andropulos. Find out what she thinks of him. See what you can discover about his business or businesses. Find out who his business contacts and friends are and what she thinks of them, assuming, of course, that she’s ever met any of them. And it would be very interesting to know where his travels take him – I’m not talking about his yacht cruises when she is with him – and why they take him there.’

‘You are asking me, sir, in effect, to ply Irene with cunning and devious questions, to entrap her, if you will, to engage in duplicity and extract unwitting information from a sweet and innocent girl?’

‘Yes.’

‘A pleasure, sir.’

Theodore was a cheerful, plump man in his late forties, with a pale face and thick pebble glasses, those last a very probable consequence of having spent a lifetime poring over abstruse codes.

‘You have come to check on progress, gentlemen. I am making some, I’m happy to report. Took me quite some time to find the key, the connection between the code and the Odyssey. Since then, it’s straightforward. These sheets are in three sections and I’m now about two-thirds of the way through the first one.’

‘Found anything of interest?’ Talbot said.

‘Interesting? Fascinating, Captain, fascinating. Statements of his accounts, bank holdings, if you like. He has his money stashed away – “stashed” is the word? – all over the world, it seems. As a matter of interest, I’m totting up the sum of his holdings as I go along. He’s made it very easy for me, everything is in US dollars. So far, let me see, it’s two-eighty. Yes, two-eighty. Dollars.’

‘A man could retire on that,’ Van Gelder said.

‘Indeed. Two-eighty. Followed by six zeros.’

Talbot and Van Gelder looked at each other in silence, then bent forward over Theodore’s shoulders to look at the figures he had added up. After some seconds they straightened, looked at each other again, then bent forward once more.

‘Two hundred and eighty million dollars,’ Talbot said. ‘On that you could retire, Vincent.’

‘If I scraped and pinched a bit, I might manage. Do you know where those bank accounts are kept, Theodore? Cities, countries, I mean?’

‘Some I do, because he’s given names and addresses, some I don’t. For the second lot, he may have another code which I don’t have or he just knows them by heart. By heart, I would guess. I have no means of knowing where at least half the accounts are. Just the amounts, that’s all.’

‘Could you show us some of those?’ Talbot said.

‘Of course.’ Theodore pointed to some entries, flipped over several pages and indicated several more. ‘Just amounts, as I said. As you see, there’s a differing capital letter after each entry. They mean nothing to me. Maybe they do to Andropulos.’

Talbot leafed through the pages again. ‘Five letters, just five, recur regularly – Z, W, V, B and G. Well, now. If you were a thrifty citizen and wanted a safe piggy-bank secure from the prying eyes of nasty parties such as police and income tax authorities, which country would you choose?’

‘Switzerland.’

‘I think the same far from original thought had occurred to Andropulos – for at least half his assets. Z for Zürich. W? Winterthur, perhaps. V? Off-hand, I don’t know about that one.’

‘Vevey?’ Van Gelder said. ‘On Lake Geneva?’

‘I don’t think so. Hardly what you might call an international banking centre. Ah! I have it. Not in Switzerland, but it might as well be. Vaduz. Liechtenstein. I don’t know much about those things but I understand that once cash disappears into the vaults of Vaduz it never surfaces again. B could be Berne or Basle – Andropulos would know, of course. G has to be Geneva. How am I doing, Number One?’

‘Splendidly. I’m sure you’re right. I hardly like to point out, sir, that we still don’t have the names and addresses of those banks.’

‘True. Crest-fallen, but only slightly. We still have names and addresses of other banks. You have a list of those cities where those banks are located?’

‘I don’t have to,’ Theodore said, ‘I have it in my head. They’re all over the place, west, east and in between. Places as different as Miami, Tijuana, Mexico City, Bogotá in Colombia, Bangkok, Islamabad in Pakistan, Kabul in Afghanistan. Why anyone should want to hide away money in Kabul is quite beyond me. Country is torn by war and the Russians occupy and control the capital.’

‘Andropulos would appear to have friends everywhere,’ Talbot said. ‘Why should the poor Russians be left out in the cold? That about the lot?’

‘Quite a few other places,’ Theodore said. ‘Mostly smaller accounts. One exception, though. The biggest deposit of the lot.’

‘Where?’

‘Washington, DC.’

‘Well, now.’ Talbot was silent for a few minutes. ‘What do you make of that, Number One?’

‘I think I’ve just about stopped making anything out of anything. My mind has kind of taken a leave of absence. But my eyes are still working, in a fashion, you might say. I think I see a faint light at the end of the tunnel.’

‘I think if we think a bit more it might turn into a searchlight. How much money?’

‘Eighteen million dollars.’

‘Eighteen million dollars,’ Van Gelder said. ‘My, my. Even in Washington, DC, a man could buy a lot with eighteen million dollars.’