Scend of the Sea

'In view of what is written on that panel, I want a lot of explanations. .'

Tafline startled us. After the stiff, formal introductions she had been silent. Now she stood up, walked to the desk, and ran a finger over the twisted, sea-marked panel, as if to establish some contact. She might have been quite alone. She did not react to the colonel's demand. The circle of watching men was stilled? she was oblivious. What was she seeking from the panel which itself had been in the physical presence of the world's greatest sea mystery, probably even seen the corroded hulk of what had been Captain Ilbery's pride, the metal coffin which had broken so many hearts so long ago and tantalized so many minds since?

She took up the watch, too, and turned it round in her hands. Her unspeaking action seemed to have taken the initiative from the colonel and his peremptory demand about the telegram.

He reddened and snapped. 'That watch and all the rest of it looks like something picked up from the films.'

'It isn't a fantasy,' Tafline said, not looking up. She turned the panel this way and that to catch the light.

'It is a will.'

Addressing only me, she read out in her soft, clear voice: — ’"To my son Ian Fairlie I bequeath wreck Waratah south Bashee …”"

I gasped. 'It's. . it's. . too fantastic! A will-written on a piece of metal! He bequeaths me the Waratahl How. . where did he find her?'

My flow of words died at the colonel's cool, professional scrutiny. I felt he was logging every reaction of mine, almost every eye-blink.

That is exactly what I want to know. That is why I asked you to come and explain. Both of you.'

'I … I simply don't know! I've never heard of such a thing. .'

'Nor have I,' he retorted. The more one goes into it, the more incredible it becomes. Not only the panel itself, but the circumstances surrounding it. All of which involve you.'

I did not know what to reply.

Tafline came to the rescue. 'There is more writing. But the wording becomes very indistinct. There are some figures, too. It looks like — no, I can't make it out.'

One of the civilians, his plain clothes contrasting with the smart blue uniforms and white collars of the police, said. ‘We cleared it up, in order to read it. Warren and I have been working most of the night on it. Eh, Warren?'

A heavy-eyed, bearded civilian nodded. 'Waratah was plain enough. Aluminium, of course, doesn't rust in seawater.'

Colonel Joubert said. 'Please leave that alone, juffrou, and sit down again.'

Tafline put it down gently. As she did so, she swung round and looked full at me. Gone was her earlier abstraction; her eyes were shining, as if she had come to some big decision. I was bewildered, the move was so deliberate.

The telephone rang and the colonel answered in Afrikaans, deferentially but firmly.

He put down the receiver. 'Pretoria!' he exclaimed. 'What am I doing about the Waratah? The powers in Pretoria want to know! What do the preliminary investigations show? The press wants to know-the whole world wants to know! Already this morning I've had four calls from London, one from Munich, and two from New York. You've got a lot of questions to answer, Captain Fairlie!'

I didn't care for his overbearing attitude. I gestured at the panel. 'I've got a right to know first what all this is about.'

'Tell him, major, you took the first call.'

He said, This panel was picked up about twelve miles offshore, north of East London, by the frigate Natal…'

Lee-Aston!

I broke in. 'What was she doing there ¹?' The major looked surprised. The colonel leaned forward expectantly. I saw the flash of suspicion. 'Why?'

'Well. . Natal towed me in to Cape Town. I thought the frigate was damaged. Her captain said he was going to Simonstown for repairs. The search area was to the north of the Bashee. Lee-Aston told me so himself.'

'Natal was damaged,' replied the major. 'But Commander Lee-Aston joined the search in its final stages. However, when it was called off, the damage to Natal was found to be more extensive than at first thought. Natal did not return to base. She stayed over at East London for more repairs. That took some time. She was on her way back when she spotted the panel..

It slipped out before I could check myself. 'But if she was making for Simonstown, she would not have been north of East London but south …'

Lee-Aston was not the cold, inflexible machine I had thought him to be after all. The main search having failed, he had gone straight to the area I had urged him to search 1 And he had found part of the Gemsbok.

Both the colonel and the major were staring at me.

Joubert said thoughtfully, 'You're very clever about these things, Captain Fairlie.'

The major resumed, not taking his eyes from my face. 'Commander Lee-Aston first thought he had found part of the Buccaneer.'

'Why didn't he say something!' I burst out.

‘You've been a great deal in the news lately, Captain Fairlie,' replied Joubert. ‘How the press must love you! One drama on top of another! Fortunately Commander Lee-Aston chose his duty above publicity. He kept his mouth shut until he reached Simonstown and the origin of the panel could be established.'

There was an innuendo about the colonel's words which should have warned me.

He threw away his cigarette. 'If you listen hard, you can hear the reporters grinding their teeth outside the door waiting to interview you. Howling, in fact. How did they know?'

He eyed me searchingly.

'Are you trying to imply …?'

‘I am implying nothing, Captain Fairlie-at this stage. All I can say is that the way one drama is piling on after another. .' He shrugged. 'It gets like a drug, being in the headlines. There was a man I wanted once whom we chased all over the country. Every day he had the headlines. He got away. He was quite safe where he holed up. The papers cooled off. He couldn't bear it. So he arranged with the papers that he would give himself up at a particular spot and they'd be there — reporters, photographers, the lot. He was perfectly happy when we arrived to arrest him. He was back again on the front page. It is quite amazing how co-operative the press proves on these occasions …'

To the other side,' growled the major.

I looked from one to the other. They had not accused me

of a put-up job with the press, but they were pretty close to the wind.

I bit back my reactions. 'Is that panel really part of the Gemsbok?’

One of the civilians — Warren, the aircraft manufacturer's representative-said wearily from the depths of his shaggy beard, That section of fuselage comes from a Viscount, you can take it from me. The rivet style and metallurgical content correspond with the Gemsbok mark. It is certainly not a Buccaneer.’

Another civilian, a Transport Ministry Inspector of Crashes, was about to speak when the door was opened by a sergeant, who showed in an officer in Air Force uniform.

'Sorry, colonel.'

"We hadn't gone far,' said Joubert shortly. 'This is Captain Fairlie.'

Major Bates's handshake was firm but uncommitted. 'I saw your ship from my Shackleton the other day. My crew were laying bets how long you would stay afloat.' He looked inquiringly at the metal panel, at the colonel, at Tafline. No one spoke. He found himself a chair in the silence.

The Inspector of Crashes broke the uncomfortable atmosphere.

'The style of stencil and type of paint is the same as we use for our Airways planes. No doubt. Of course, we haven't yet had time to make a full chemical analysis but it looks good at first glance.'