‘OK, Sparks,’ I said. ‘You’ll get your bodyguard. But I don’t want any scaremongering, understand. If I put a seaman on the door, we’ll say he’s there as a messenger — not as a strong arm. I don’t want you saying anything about our real reasons, imagined or otherwise.’
Larabee nodded doubtfully but I wasn’t prepared to make any further concessions to his seemingly out-of-character hysteria. In fact, as we walked away, I couldn’t resist the childish impulse to turn back. ‘Just hope, Larabee, that the man outside your door isn’t the same bloke who put old Alf over the wall in the first place. or didn’t you think about that?’
To my dissatisfaction he grinned. ‘Strictly between you an’ me, Kent… Maybe it’s not the Jerrys I’m wantin’ protection from so much as a certain bucko mate that’s too bloody quick with his hands!’
I glared hard at him. There wasn’t any humour in the smile, just a promise of something indefinable. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling, but I couldn’t take it up with him right then, not with the Old Man waiting, and anyway, I’d asked for it with my snide remark. I hesitated another moment, trying to think of some cutting repartee, but nothing came.
Swinging abruptly, I followed the Captain along the boat deck.
Twenty minutes later I was nearly running out of words again.
‘Five million quid?’ I exploded.
The Old Man nodded slowly. ‘Five million pounds Australian, John. That’s not as much as its equivalent in Sterling at the current rate of exchange, of course.’
‘Five million quid Australian, then,’ I said again. ‘That, Sir, is big money in any national currency.’
Evans leaned forward and poured himself another cup from the big silver coffee pot on his dayroom table. The engraved Company crest flashed briefly as he replaced it on the tray and added condensed milk. We had repaired to his cabin for a long overdue discussion on the normal work of the ship, a problem which was proving only too easy to ignore under current conditions. Somehow I had this bad feeling about what was going to happen and that, in itself, made me want to postpone making decisions about mundane jobs like replacing wire ropes, paintwork and the thousand and one duties and responsibilities of a chief officer. It’s funny how you can get an idea into your head and, subconsciously, it affects your whole attitude, although, at the time, you may not even be aware of it yourself. All I knew was that I felt a deep weariness, a sort of apathy which was slowly undermining my ability to plan ahead.
And now, the Old Man’s bombshell about the value of the currency we carried in the forward strong-room. I had guessed there was a lot of money from the capacity of those leather and steel-bound boxes that had come aboard, but five million…?
Evans eyed me over his cup. ‘It’s still not as important as the mail bags, John. Bank notes can be replaced, given time — sunken wrecks and dead sailors can’t be refloated from the bottom of the sea.’
I sucked a hollow tooth that had been nagging me for months but which I was too scared to admit to a dentist. ‘Maybe, but that much money makes us a security risk in itself, Sir. It makes this ship a doubly desirable property to anyone who’s interested.’
‘Like who, for instance? The Germans?’
I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe they would like to get hold of five million to buy themselves another couple of U- boats. But, well… Oh hell! There’s a lot of blokes on our own side would take a big chance for that kind of a return.’
Evans smiled. ‘You think the mysterious fireworks last night were pirates then, John? That any time now we may be boarded by black-bearded sailormen with cutlasses and hooks for hands?’
While the idea was incongruous, it still didn’t appeal to my rather depleted sense of humour. ‘More like bristleheaded Huns with Schmeisser machine-guns and grenades!’ I muttered sourly.
‘That,’ said the Captain, ‘could be rather more of a possibility. But not for a few million in banknotes which would only be of use to any agents they may have in Aussie. Even then, the notes will be serialised. It might be a worthwhile risk for a common criminal, but I can’t imagine any spy worth his salt leaving a trail of banknotes known to be stolen from Cyclops, can you?’
I shook my head. Of course he was right.
‘Well, it beats me,’ I muttered, feeling one of my bloody-minded turns coming on but, even with that awareness, still wanting to pick flaws in somebody. ‘Why in God’s name did they send us out with only that… that elastic-driven bloody wood carving out there as our only protection? If we’re so important, then why didn’t the Admiralty lay on a proper escort?’
The Old Man got to his feet and stared out of the port. I caught a glimpse of the brass surround framing the heavy foremast of Athenian, swaying easily and reassuringly on our beam. He didn’t turn as he spoke. ‘We are important, John. Very important. You already know why. But don’t let’s delude ourselves into thinking we’re the only people in this war. The Navy’s got a massive problem, and nowhere near enough ships to cope with it. Our speed is our greatest protection— our speed… and luck! Without luck I don’t suppose an ocean full of escorts would be of much assistance. Just thank God for small mercies, John — at least we don’t have any aircraft worries so far south.’
I sniffed. ‘No, none at all… neither ours nor theirs. Surely they could have spared us a couple of planes for air cover? We’re less than three hours’ flying time away from the S.A.A.F. bases now.’
‘Cover from what? Other planes? We’re too far from the nearest Luftwaffe fields in North Africa. Apart from U-boats our only other danger could be from their surface raiders, and I understand this area is considered clear at present.’ He saw the look of scepticism on my face and hurried on before I could get my protest assembled and fired. ‘…so what use is there in our having a Sunderland buzzing round and round above us, acting as a marker for every sub within thirty miles?’
‘Sunderlands are supposed to be anti-submarine aircraft, aren’t they, Sir?’ I queried pointedly, still unconvinced. ‘They carry depth charges, don’t they?’
He swung round to face me and I could see the argument was nearly over. It would be ‘Mister Kent’ again this time. ‘So does Mallard, Mister Kent — but you don’t seem to go much on her as a form of protection. I have no doubt whatever that air cover could be provided if necessary, but the powers that be felt it better not to furnish us with an openly displayed invitation for the Huns to come and investigate what the planes were covering. They considered it more sensible for us to try and remain undetected, rather than to revenge themselves on the enemy while we cheer — from the lifeboats.’
His argument, based as it was on the lesser of two evils, was certainly sensible. It somewhat lost conviction regarding the ‘detection’ bit though as suddenly the cabin lurched hard over to starboard under the effects of an apparently massive helm alteration while, above us on the bridge, the ship’s siren screamed two short warning blasts. The engraved coffee pot slid off the shiny silver tray with a crash and the Captain’s best Egyptian Axminster soaked up the mess of spilt grains as we stared at each other in shocked, frozen silence.
Two blasts. The emergency signal to all other ships: ‘I am directing my course to port!’
And whoever was at the wheel was directing us to port with an urgency which suggested we were under investigation — with or without air cover.