Santorini (12 page)

'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 captain'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 gun-running 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?'

'Archaeology. Used to. He's retired now.'

'Retired? Oh dear. I mean, have we any right to bring an elderly archaeologist 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 Crecy. Something to that effect.'

'What's good enough for a retired archaeologist 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?'