Dawson had a way of drawing in the left-hand corner of his sandy moustache with his lower canine tooth after he had spoken, as if sharpening his next words.
I said, without mincing words, 'Grohman wasn't able to handle the situation after Captain Mortensen's death. He blew the record attempt – and his own chances.'
The canine tooth gnawed. 'That is only a matter of opinion.'
I shrugged. 'I didn't come here to discuss the merits or impropriety of my first officer's actions.'
'They enter very much into it, Captain Rainier. You may bluster and denigrate him, but you fail to recognize the peculiar and particular circumstances prevailing in this part of the world. There are some who consider him to have acted quite correctly.'
'If you're going to throw the Argentina-Falklands political situation at me, you're wasting your time. It has nothing to do with Jetwind’
'On the contrary, Jetwind has everything to do with it. That is why I have summoned you here this afternoon. Mr Grohman has a full understanding of the delicacy of the situation. It appears you don't.'
'Is that why he turned and scudded for port a thousand miles from any country's territorial waters?'
'You make your opinion of Mr Grohman very clear, Captain.' 'Because I fail to understand how a long-standing and nebulous territorial dispute can be used to justify what I regard as poor judgement and lack of command ability, to put it mildly’
He said pointedly, 'Captain Rainier, the entire legal jurisdiction of the Falklands Dependencies is under my sole control. That being so, I would rule that Mr Grohman acted correctly since he had a murder on his hands.' 'Murder?'
‘I cannot, of course, anticipate the outcome of the inquest on Captain Mortensen, but there is prima facie evidence of unnatural death.'
'Of course it was unnatural. I believe he was suffocated by being caught in the roller-furling mechanism of the sails.'
'We shall of course hear expert evidence on that,' he replied judicially. 'The true cause of death might have escaped an ordinary medical man, but in this case I was fortunate in that Sir William Hall-Denton was my guest.'
He eyed me to note what effect the name-dropping had on me. My silence expressed my knowledge of Sir William Hall-Denton.
'Sir William is a leading London pathologist,' he explained. 'A good friend and a passionate philatelic expert. You know, of course, of the Falklands' place in the realm of philately.'
I didn't. I was more interested in Captain Mortensen's death.
'Sir William interested himself in the case when the body was brought in. He established that death, in fact, was caused prior to the apparent suffocation in the sail roller. There was a small bruise at the base of the neck which pointed to the fact that he was probably dead by the time he was enveloped by the sail. He had most likely been struck by a blunt instrument.'
I said, marking time while I digested this news, 'Where is Captain Mortensen's body now?'
Mr Dawson indicated a building beyond the Secretariat. 'There. In the hospital mortuary.' 'So Grohman must either have known or suspected.'
Dawson lifted one shoulder. ‘It is not for me as presiding officer of the inquest to prejudge any witness.'
Dawson's news had thrown me. A question ripped through my mind – had I misjudged Grohman as a treacherous bastard when he had, in fact, had justification with a murder on his hands? Who had murdered Mortensen, and why? Then I got a grip on my racing thoughts. I reminded myself that Grohman had been far from any authority on the high seas. He, as captain, was the sole judge of the situation. There had been no reason to sacrifice the record. If he had suspected foul play, he could have proceeded, body and all, to the Cape.
'Well?' Mr Dawson's word gambit was that of a grandmaster who is sure of his kill.
I said, more confidently than I felt, 'At sea, the ship's master has complete authority. If it took a top-flight London specialist to pinpoint the cause of death, Grohman himself could not have realized it.' 'He might have had reason to suspect.'
'Suspect someone? In that case the captain has the right of arrest. Did he detain or question anyone? Has he aired his suspicions to you?' The grand-master saw his game slipping away.
He said stiffly, 'He would have been exceeding his duties to voice a mere opinion.'
I felt I had regained firmer ground. 'Grohman is an Argentinian, who was temporarily captain of a ship registered in Falmouth…'
'The Falklands was the nearest British port,' interrupted Dawson.
'You're talking legalistically,' I retaliated. 'The situation isn't as simple as that.'
Superficially it might have been simple,, had I not seen and heard the violent reaction on the mainland over Jetwind or encountered the obstructionism of the Argentinian officials. Nor could I forget Grohman's air of triumph when I had provoked him into telling me that the Almirante Storni was on her way to detain Jetwind. You don't send a warship to hold a ship for a case of suspected murder.
Dawson tried to short-circuit the interview. 'I am glad. Captain Rainier, that you agree the matter is not simple and that you have come round to my way of thinking.'
'On the contrary, I have not,' I answered. 'Grohman knew well enough that by bringing the ship here he would raise a political hornets' nest. In fact, that may well have been his purpose.'
Mr Dawson was clearly taken aback by this suggestion. 'You must not forget that Argentina claims territorial waters of two hundred sea-miles offshore and has filed claims with the United Nations to these islands and all others for a considerable sector of the Cape Horn area…' 'I've heard the claims,' I interrupted. 'They're absurd.'
'Argentina regards the Falklands as Argentinian territory,' he continued. 'You have to accept that fact when you live in this part of the world. Therefore, Grohman brought the ship to what he regards as an Argentinian port.'
'Where, then, does your legal jurisdiction as a British official come in? It means nothing, from Grohman's point of view.'
I had Dawson nailed, and he knew it. He slid out from under my attack. 'The position of the Falklands is an explosive issue, and Mr Grohman is an Argentinian. I am happy to be able to tell you that tomorrow we are expecting an Argentinian warship for a courtesy visit. She is the Almirante Storni and Captain Julian Irizar and I will have consultations over Captain Mortensen's death.' 'What the devil has it to do with the Argentinian Navy?'
He displayed long-suffering patience. 'I have been attempting to convey to you that we have here a knife-edge situation which requires consultation and good neighbourliness in order to continue our modus vivendi.'
I suppressed my intended retort. If I played my fish right I could find out the Almirante Storni's time of arrival.
I said casually, 'We spotted the warship from our plane on the way over. When is she due in?'
'We have made special provision for her to tie up tomorrow morning early,' he answered. 'She should reach the outer harbour of Port William about ten tonight. She'll anchor there and come in later when it's light enough. The Narrows are tricky in darkness and there is no official pilot in Stanley.'
‘I’d like to be up to see her come in,' I said, hoping 1 was keeping the inference out of my voice. 'What time will she come through?'
'The Narrows have an odd characteristic,' he said more readily, apparently glad to ditch the subject of Argentina-Falklands relations. 'The sky is generally clearest over the entrance at about two in the morning, even when weather is working up. Port Stanley is far enough south to be able to see landmarks quite clearly at that time. When daylight comes, the cloud cover usually closes in. My guess is that the destroyer will negotiate The Narrows in the early hours. Captain Irizar knows the port well he's been here before.' He eyed me speculatively. 'I hope – in the interests of good neighbourliness – that you will show Captain Irizar round your ship. Jetwind is quite a talking point.'
'I shall be delighted to show Captain Irizar my ship at close quarters,' I replied. How close, only dawn and The Narrows would show.
What Dawson had now revealed about the Almirante Storni's intended movements had sewn up all but the final link of my plan. The weather and the wind. I wanted to sick up at the rest of Dawson's pontifical papering-
