No taxes, Nicholas/ he smiled, And look at the view.  The picturesque

buildings of Hamilton town were painted in candy colours, strawberries

and limes, plum and lemon and across the bay the cedar trees stood tall

in the sunlight, and the yachts from the pink-painted clubhouse spread

multicoloured sails across green waters.  It's better than London in

winter, isn't it?

The same temperature/ said Nicholas, and glanced up at the

air-conditioning.

I'm a hot-blooded man/ Bernard explained, and when his tall nubile

secretary entered to his ring, bearing the Ocean Salvage files like a

high priestess carrying the sacrament, Bernard fell into an awed

silence, concentrating all his attention on her pneumatic bosoms; they

bounced and strained against the laws of gravity as though filled with

helium.

She flashed a dazzling, painted smile at Nicholas as she placed the

files on Bernard's desk, and then she left with her perfectly rounded

buttocks under the tightly tailored skirt, swinging and dancing to a

distant music.  She can type too/ Bernard assured Nick with a sigh, and

shook his head as if to clear it, He opened the top file.

Right/he began.  The deposit from Christy Marine The money had come in,

and only just in time.  The next instalment on Sea Witch was already

forty-eight hours overdue and Atlantique were becoming highly agitated.

Son of a gun/ said Bernard.  You would not think six million was an easy

sum of money to get rid of, would you?  You don't even have to try/ Nick

agreed.  It just spends itself.  Then with a scowl, What's this? They've

invoked the escalation clause again, another 3 + 106 % 'Sea Witch's

builders had included a clause that related the contract price to the

index cost of steel and the Union labour rates.  They had avoided the

threatened dockyard strike by capitulating to Union demands, and now the

figures came back to Nicholas.  They were big fat ugly figures.  The

clause was a festering canker to Nicholas draining his strength and

money.

They worked on through the afternoon, paying, paying and paying. Bunkers

and the other running costs of Warlock, interest and capital repayments

on the debts of Ocean Salvage, lawyers fees, agents fees, the six

million whittled away.  One of the few payments that gave Nicholas any

pleasure was the 121/2% salvage money to the crew of Warlock.  David

Allen's share was almost thirty thousand dollars, Beauty Baker another

twenty-five thousand - Nick included a note with that cheque, Have a

Bundaberg on me!  Is that all the payments?  Nicholas asked at last.

Isn't it enough,' It's enough.  Nick felt groggy with jet-lag and from

juggling with figures.  What's next?  Good news, next. Bernard picked up

the second file.  I think I've squared Esso.  They hate you, they have

threatened never to use your tugs again, but they are not going to sue.

Nicholas had breached contract when he deserted the Esso tow and ran

south for Golden Adventurer; the breach of contract suit had been

hanging since then, It was a relief to have it aside.  Bernard Wackie

was worth every penny of his hire.  Okay.  Next? It went on for another

six unbroken hours, piled on top of the jet-lag that Nicholas had

accumulated across the Atlantic.

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