The Seventh Secret

Chapter 10 — Subterfuge in Action

In the morning Dr. Malgas received a phone call from Sam Cleave, confirming the time and place for their meeting. From what Sam told him, all the arrangements had been made to begin the survey of the vessel and that the team would arrive at Port Elizabeth International Airport soon.

“Thank you, Sam!” he said. “Call me as soon as you land and we’ll meet you there.”

With a weary exhale he placed the phone on the table in his living room, where he was nursing a cup of bitter black coffee. Through the empty rum bottle he stared at the front door, too tired and depressed to get dressed before Mieke would arrive. She was due to be there soon.

“And so it begins,” he sighed in miserable slurs of fatigue. He had hardly slept an hour all night. Something about those people Cheryl had brought with her did not feel right. Cheryl did not feel good. Mieke was pulling off something borderline illegal. Sam was already slightly vexed at Billy’s constant excuses and there were no classes scheduled for the week, so he wouldn’t make a dime. And now that Sam’s people were already traveling from Scotland to come and investigate the fake claim, Billy felt even more terrified at the uncertain outcome of the whole thing. He had nowhere to turn; he had to see it through, or nobody would ever trust him again. He simply could not falter now, because his only alternative would be unemployment, which was not an alternative at all, since without a family to support him he was bound to end up on the streets of the city’s already crumbling infrastructure.

Just like the city he resided in, his life had once been vibrant and successful with international acclaim and full of allure. But now, mismanagement and greed had taken its toll forcing him to enter a very gray zone in an attempt of recovery. Billy Malgas shook his head and forced his limbs to action if only to change posture and appear enthusiastic. The one good thing in all of this was that he was going to see Sam again. The lad was an entertaining and energetic presence; Billy would welcome at this juncture of his life and career.

After a quick shower, Dr. Malgas got dressed in his best smart casual attire. He could not deny that to looking decent and having brushed the rum off his breath made him feel better about everything. In the mirror, he looked like a proper academic again and by some force of will plastered a smile on his face, just to see how he would look to Sam Cleave and his team he didn’t know yet.

"Not too bad, not too bad," he grinned wider, throwing in a bit of attitude in his pose. "You keep this up. You might just sell this bullshit to them, after all… and if you do," he came up close to the mirror to scrutinize his features, "you might just come out of it stinking rich with endorsements and guest lecture invitations!”

A knock at his door kicked Dr. Billy Malgas into action. Mieke was here.

On their way to the harbor, Dr. Malgas thought it was a good idea to familiarize himself with Mieke’s plan and the details of the ship in question. It was a windy morning in Port Elizabeth, and the brunt of the traffic was gone since rush hour had already passed. Mieke had suggested having brunch at the Sea Lion Restaurant and Fisheries, a well-loved eatery on the harbor’s long line of fish markets and yacht clubs.

“How did you find this wreck in the first place, Mieke?” he asked her.

"I have known about it for a long time, actually. My brother and his girlfriend once took my parents and me out to the sea for a fishing day. Her father is retired and very well off. He used to love being out on the open sea, but his health didn’t allow him to go out on the yacht so much. So she told my brother to invite us. It was on a Sunday, I remember,” she explained, gesturing wildly with her hands as she always did.

“So they all know about it?” he asked.

“No. When we lay at anchor, you know, everybody was drinking and listening to music on the bar stereo, I jumped into the water to cool off. It was more of a dare from my brother," she giggled. "Nobody else wanted to go, so I won two hundred bucks with that bet!"

Dr. Malgas enjoyed her enthusiasm so much that he almost forgot to ask about the more significant details, "Okay, okay, but do you know exactly where it is?"

“I saw it when I dove under the ship. Almost had a bloody heart attack," she recounted with a wince of terror. "Just saw this huge dark thing under me! Jesus, I almost died when I saw it at first. It is huge, Dr. Malgas. And only I saw it."

“Are you sure? How long ago was this?” he asked.

"Positive. Of course, I don't know if anyone else has seen it before or after me. No-one ever reported it or said anything," she told him.

“How long ago?” he persisted.

“Um, about six months? Just before the summer," she recalled. Malgas gave it some thought. So far it all seemed plausible. Even if they found out that it was not the Graf Spee, he could still claim that had simply been mistaken.

“How are we going to convince professional historians and salvage divers that this is indeed the Graf Spee, Mieke? You do know that those ships had a certain construction and other features like emblems and deck guns only the Germans used,” he frowned.

They pulled into the harbor area, passing countless train tracks to reach the security checkpoint.

“I took care of that too,” she winked. It was meant to put him at ease, but Dr. Malgas only tensed up at the thought of the young blonde beauty being at the helm of his reputation. After having their IDs checked, Mieke and Dr. Malgas took the small road behind the row of structures along the harbor front to the restaurant.

“How, Mieke?” he whispered urgently. “My nerves are frayed, girl. I have to know what you know. When these people get here, I have to sound sure of my game. Now how did you ‘take care' of the details?"

They ordered coffee and took the menus from the waiter.

Mieke suddenly looked guilty. Her eyes danced in his glare as she sought the right words. Dr. Malgas felt his throat close up above his hammering heart. He felt too sick to eat now. Judging by her expression, she had done something he might have to pay for later, he feared.

“Mieke,” he said blandly. “Just tell me. Now.”

She took a deep breath. “I had the emblem cast in iron and then oxidized to rust and look approximately the right age,” she admitted. His face remained unchanged as the words still found their way through his logic. “My brother and two of his metallurgist colleagues did it for us, and then we went out to the estimated area and dropped the plaques into the water. If they find those in the vicinity of the ship they’re bound to agree that it must be part of the Graf Spee, right?”

Dr. Malgas shook his head relentlessly in disbelief. “The metallurgists and your brother… they know what is going on?”

“I swore them to secrecy, and I paid them out of my trust fund. If this works, we’ll get all our money back. Don’t worry about it,” she insisted.

“Jesus Christ, Mieke!” he whispered hard, leaning toward her across the table. “Do you realize what this little secret is going to cost us if they find out it’s all…”

The waiter arrived to take their orders.

"Can you please come back in a few minutes?" Malgas snapped at the unwelcome intrusion. "And bring me a double Red Heart Rum. Neat. No ice."

“They won’t find out, Doctor. Remember, nobody said we did a dive down there, so they can’t blame us if it turns out to be fake! It could just be an honest misidentification. Relax, or you will never successfully sell this hoax,” she whispered. She looked up, past him to the deck entrance. By his description and from some old photos she recognized the stylish woman, who was accompanied by two stern-looking suited men.

“Just a heads-up. Cheryl Tobias is here.”