‘I did.’
I sighed. ‘Yeah, I did. Spoke to a physicist. In Paris. I didn’t give her any real secrets.’ I glanced at Lars, to see how he took this information.
He breathed in. We were both quite drunk at this point, and struggling to focus on something we knew was really important.
‘You know,’ he said. ‘When some other dumb boomer launches a couple of birds by mistake at somewhere in Russia and the Russians decide not to blow up the world, we’ll know you did the right thing.’
‘That’s why I wanted out of the Navy, Lars. I don’t want to have to think about this shit anymore.’
‘That’s for sure,’ said Lars, raising his glass. ‘Here’s to freedom. And Copacabana Beach.’
I got a phone call a month later in Donna’s apartment. I had the night off from the bar, and we had just finished a lasagne she had cooked.
‘It’s for you.’ She passed me the phone.
‘Hello?’
‘Bill, it’s Glenn Robinson.’
‘Oh, hello, XO,’ I said. It seemed weird to call him by his first name.
‘I’ve got some bad news.’
Something had happened to Lars, I thought right away. Although if it had, I wasn’t sure how the XO would have found out about it.
‘Yes?’ I said neutrally.
‘Commander Driscoll died suddenly two days ago.’
‘The captain? That’s terrible! What happened?’
‘He took his own life,’ said Robinson. ‘Blew his brains out.’
‘Oh my God.’ The news sank into my consciousness slowly. ‘That’s awful.’ He had a wife, or an ex-wife. And children. ‘Does anyone know why?’
‘There’s an investigation, of course,’ said Robinson. ‘And they haven’t come up with anything yet. He didn’t leave a note. It may have been his marriage. Or…’
‘The near-launch,’ I said.
‘He didn’t take it well,’ said the XO. ‘He found it difficult to accept what he had done. Ordering a nuclear launch. What both of us had done.’ The XO’s voice was flat. ‘I’ve found it difficult too, to tell you the truth.’
‘But it wasn’t his fault!’ I protested. ‘Or yours. He listened to Lars’s objections. He did things by the book.’
‘Da Silva didn’t do things by the book,’ said Robinson. ‘And neither did you. Which is why we are all alive today.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘He was a good man. I respected him. I admired him.’
‘He was,’ said Robinson. ‘I only served with him on that one patrol, but I could feel how much the crew respected him. It’s such a shame.’
We were silent on the phone together. Sharing regrets at the loss of a life.
‘Well, thanks for telling me, XO.’
‘Do you know how to get in contact with da Silva?’ Robinson said. ‘I’d like to call him.’
‘Yeah. Wait a second, he gave me his grandparents’ number in Brazil.’ I found it in my address book and read it out to Robinson.
‘XO? One thing before you go. Has a woman called Pat Greenwald been in touch?’
‘Pat Greenwald? Who is she?’
‘Oh, no one. A friend of Donna’s,’ I said.
‘I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with what we discussed at the fort?’ Robinson said.
‘Oh, no. No, not at all. Thanks, XO.’
I put down the phone.
I felt Donna come up behind me and wrap her arms around my chest.
FIFTY
Sunday 1 December 2019, Norfolk
Toby listened as his father-in-law subtly changed his story. Again.
Megan was right, he hadn’t outright lied to them before. But he had withheld information. Important information.
With each iteration something new had been revealed: Bill killing Craig to stop the missiles being launched, and now talking to the Russians about the near-launch. How much of this could Toby believe now? He had no idea.
It was likely what Bill was telling them was the truth. But what was he missing out?
If Lars were still alive, there would have been someone else to check Bill’s story with. Admiral Robinson would be able to confirm some of it. But not the really important stuff. And having a frank conversation with Admiral Robinson would be difficult.
‘So, it wasn’t Commander Driscoll who gave secrets to the Russians?’ Toby asked.
‘No,’ said Bill. ‘Donna just made that up on the spot. To deflect the FBI’s attention from me.’
‘But you only told them about the near-launch? Nothing else?’
‘Correct.’
‘So someone else told the Russians more? Gave them the real secrets about the submarine command and the missiles that the FBI mentioned?’
‘I guess so,’ said Bill.
‘Well, who was that?’ Toby asked.
Bill shrugged.
‘Could it have been Lars?’ Megan said. ‘He told you he spoke to Pat Greenwald.’
‘Yes. But he didn’t say he gave her real secrets.’
‘He wouldn’t, would he?’ said Megan. ‘But that’s really why he came to England. To see what Sam Bowen had to say.’
Toby remembered Lars telling him as much on the beach.
‘That’s right,’ said Bill. ‘He asked me all about our conversation with Sam.’
‘Including what Sam had to say about Pat Greenwald?’
Bill nodded.
‘So maybe it was Lars,’ Megan said.
Bill looked uncomfortable. ‘Lars was more than a friend to me. He and I shared something extraordinary. I’m not going to call him a traitor unless I am absolutely sure. And I’m not; I’m not at all.’
‘Even though he’s dead now?’
Bill bit his lower lip. ‘Yes. Even though he is dead now,’ he said sombrely.
‘I don’t know,’ said Toby. ‘Brooke was pretty firm that Lars never left the Cottage. They even heard him go to the bathroom about midnight.’
‘OK,’ said Megan. ‘What about Justin? Maybe he left the Cottage and killed Sam? To stop Sam writing about how his father wanted to blow up the world.’
‘So you are saying Brooke’s lying about Justin being there with her that evening?’ said Alice.
‘No. Yeah. I don’t know,’ said Megan.
‘Brooke wouldn’t lie,’ said Alice.
Actually, Toby wasn’t sure about that. He would lie for Alice.
‘Whatever,’ said Megan, stepping back from her accusation. ‘But, Dad. You have to tell the police all this. Otherwise they’ll lock Alice up again!’
Bill swallowed, and looked at his eldest daughter. He appeared to be on the edge of tears. ‘I can’t,’ he said to her. ‘You must understand that.’
Alice’s face hardened. She got to her feet and left the kitchen table. A moment later they heard the front door bang. They could see her through the kitchen window leaning on the flint garden wall next to the pear tree, staring out over the marsh.
Toby joined her. He put his arm around her and squeezed.
Time to dispel one of the many Guth secrets. ‘You know why your father doesn’t want to tell the police all this?’ he said.
Alice didn’t answer.
‘Because he thinks you killed Sam Bowen.’
‘He told you that, did he?’ Alice said, turning towards him. There were tears in her eyes, but also contempt.
‘Yes,’ said Toby. ‘I don’t believe him, obviously.’
Alice turned away from him towards the marsh, brooding under a low grey sky. A couple with a dog strode in single file along the top of the dyke down towards the dunes, which were slumbering under their thin, worn blanket of grey-green grass. To the west, an early brushstroke of pink was already tickling the underside of the clouds.
Toby tried to put his arm around her again, but she shook him off. ‘You don’t believe I think you killed him, do you?’ he repeated.