fine doctor, a fine man like this.'
'You didn't really expect to find anything else, did you, Doctor?'
'No. Not really. Had to be this or something like this.' He examined, briefly, the two men lying in their beds, shook his head and turned away. 'Still comes as a bit of a shock.' It was obvious that he was referring to Dr Singh.
McKinnon nodded. 'I know. I don't want to sound callous, Doctor, I know it might sound that way, but — you won't be needing those men any more? I mean, no postmortems, nothing of that kind.'
'Good lord, no. Death must have been instantaneous. Concussion. If it's any consolation, they died without knowing.' He paused. 'You might look through their clothing, Bo'sun. Or maybe it's in their effects or perhaps Captain Andropolous has the details.'
'You mean names, birth-dates, things like that, sir?'
'Yes. I have to fill out the death certificates.'
'I'll attend to that.'
'Thank you, Bo'sun.' Sinclair essayed a smile but it could hardly have been rated as a success. 'As usual, I'll leave the grisly part to you.' With that he was gone, a man glad to be gone. The Bo'sun turned to Jamieson.
'Could I borrow McCrimmon, sir?'
'Of course.'
'McCrimmon, go and find Curran and Trent, will you? Tell them what's happened. Curran will know what size of canvases to bring.'
'Needles and thread, Bo'sun?'
'Curran is a sailmaker. Just leave it to him. And you could tell him that it's a clean job this time.'
McCrimmon left and Jamieson said: 'A clean job? It's a lousy job. You always get the dirty end of the stick, McKinnon. I honestly don't know how you keep on doing it. If there's anything nasty or unpleasant to be done, you're number one on everybody's list.'
'Not this time I'm not. This time, sir, you're number one on my list. Someone has to tell the Captain. Someone has to tell Mr Patterson. Worst of all — much the worst of all — someone has to tell the nursing staff. That last is not a job I'd care for at all.'
'The girls. God, I hadn't thought of that. I don't care for it either. Don't you think, Bo'sun — seeing you know them so well, I mean — '
'No, I don't think, sir.' McKinnon half smiled. 'Surely as an officer, you wouldn't think of delegating to an underling something you wouldn't do yourself?'
'Underling! God, that's rich. Very well, never let it be said that I shirked my duty but as from now I feel one degree less sorry for you.'
'Yes, sir. One other thing: when this place is clear, would.you have a couple of your men weld a patch over this hole in the bulkhead? Heaven knows they've had enough practice in welding patches recently.'
'Of course. Just let's hope it's the last patch.'
Jamieson left and McKinnon looked idly around him. His attention was caught by a fairly large wooden box in _one corner and that only because its lid had been slightly sprung by the shock of the explosion. McKinnon, not without some effort, lifted the lid and peered for some seconds at the contents. He replaced the lid, retrieved his sledge and tapped the lid securely back into place. Stamped on the lid in big red letters were the words CARDIAC ARREST.
McKinnon, rather wearily, sat down at the table in the dining area. The injured sister and nurse, both looking as if they should have been in bed — they had been relieved by Sister Maria and Nurse Irene — were sitting there, as was, inevitably, Lieutenant Ulbricht, who not only gave the impression of having completely forgotten his narrow brush with death but was sufficiently back on balance to have found himself a seat between the two girls. Sinclair, Patterson and Jamieson were clustered round one end of the table. McKinnon looked consideringly at Ulbricht, then addressed himself to Dr Sinclair.
'Not calling your professional competence into question, sir, but is the Lieutenant fit to be up and around?'
'My professional competence is irrelevant.' One could see that Dr Sinclair had not yet recovered from the shock of the death of his colleague. 'The Lieutenant, like Sister Morrison and Nurse Magnusson, is uncooperative, intransigent and downright disobedient. The three of them would probably call it having minds of their own. Lieutenant Ulbricht, as it so happens, is in no danger. The injury to his neck couldn't even be described as a flesh wound. Torn skin, more like.'
'Then perhaps, Lieutenant, you would be prepared to take another fix? We haven't had one since last night.'
'At your disposal, Bo'sun.' If the Lieutenant harboured any ill will towards the Bo'sun for the deaths of his fellow countrymen, he was at pains to conceal it. 'Any time. I suggest just on noon.'
Patterson said: 'You finished through in the recovery room, Bo'sun?' McKinnon nodded. 'Well, one gets tired of keeping on saying thank-you so I'll spare you that. When do we bury them?'
'Your decision, sir.'
'Early afternoon, before it starts to get dark.' Patterson laughed without humour. 'My decision. Chief Engineer Patterson is your man when it comes to making decisions on matters that are of no importance. I don't recall making the decision to attack that submarine.'
'I did consult with Captain Bowen, sir.'
'Ah!' It was Margaret Morrison. 'So that was what that two-minute conference was about.'
'Of course. He approved.'
Janet said: 'And if he hadn't? Would you still have rammed that U-boat?'
McKinnon said patiently: 'He not only approved, he was enthusiastic. Very enthusiastic. With all respect to Lieutenant Ulbricht here, the Captain wasn't feeling too kindly disposed towards the Germans. Not at that moment of time, anyway.'
'You're being evasive, Archie McKinnon. Answer my question. If he had disapproved would you still have attacked?'
'Yes. No need to mention that to the Captain, though.'
'Nurse Magnusson.' Patterson smiled at Janet to rob his words of any offence. 'I hardly think Mr McKinnon deserves either interrogation or disapproval. I think he deserves congratulations for a magnificent job well done.' He rose, went to the cupboard where Dr Singh had kept his private supplies and returned with a bottle of Scotch and some glasses, poured a measure for McKinnon and set it before him. 'I think Dr Singh would have approved of this.'
'Thank you, sir.' McKinnon looked down at the glass on the table. 'He won't be needing this any more.'
There was silence round the table. Predictably, it was broken by Janet.
'I think, Archie, that that was less than a gracious remark.'
'You think so now. Maybe, Maybe not.' There was no hint of apology in his voice. He raised his glass and sipped from it. 'Knew his Scotch, did Dr Singh.'
The silence was longer this time, longer and strained. It was Sinclair, embarrassed by the silence, who broke it.
'I'm sure we all echo Mr Patterson's sentiments, Mr McKinnon. A splendid job. But — to quote yourself, I'm not questioning your professional competence — you did take a bit of a chance, didn't you?'
'You mean I endangered the lives of all aboard?'
'I didn't say that.' His look of discomfiture made it evident that he had thought it, if not said it.
'It was a calculated risk,' McKinnon said, 'but not all that calculated. The odds were on my side, quite heavily, I believe. I am quite certain that the U-boat was under orders that we were to be seized, not sunk, which is why I am equally certain that the gun crew fired into the San Andreas without orders.
'The U-boat captain, Oberleutnant Klaussen, was the wrong man in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was tired or immature or inexperienced or incompetent or over-confident — he may have been all those things at the same time. What is certain is that an experienced U-boat commander would never have put himself in a position where he was running parallel to us and less than a half a mile away. He should have stayed at a couple of miles' distance — which in an emergency would have given him plenty of time to crash dive — ordered us to send across a boat, loaded it up with a half-dozen men with machine pistols and sent them back to take over the San Andreas.
