over of the legalistic and diplomatic niceties. What was the true reason behind Grohman's decision to bring Jetwind to the Falklands? Beneath all his shadow-boxing there was, I was convinced, some powerful secret motive. I also meant to find that out – once I had put a safe distance between Jetwind and the Argentinian warship. I also had no illusions about the furore that would follow Jetwind's break-out.
Perhaps Dawson took my silence for second thoughts; he decided to exhibit a flabby iron fist. 'You realize, don't you, Captain, that Jetwind is required to stay in port until after this business of the inquest has been cleared up?' 'Required? By whom?' 'The law.'
'You've just said the place is so small it doesn't even have a harbour pilot.'
'I would have thought you would be perceptive enough to see through the presence of the Almirante Storni, Captain.'
'You mean, you would tolerate the services of a foreign warship to detain Jetwind?'
'I spoke of good neighbourliness,' he replied blandly. I wondered whether the left-hand wisp of his moustache would survive if our conversation went on for much longer. 'In this remote part of the world, there might be services required – and rendered – in the interest of that good neighbourliness when there was no suitable… ah, instrument, ready to one's own hand.' 'I get the message,' I said bluntly.
Dawson rose to terminate the interview on what he obviously considered a winning note.
'Then I hope Stanley will have Jetwind's company for a while longer and you will forget about such things as record-breaking in the greater interests of the region.' He forced a hand as limp as a wet sail upon me in token of his triumph. 'I shall pass on your invitation to Captain Irizar tomorrow.'
I thought of the night ahead. 'Maybe I'll even see him myself.'
I hurried through Dawson's door into the clean air, cleaner than I had left it an hour before.
It was keen – the first knife-edge gust from the Drake Passage.
Chapter 12
By two bells in the middle watch – nine o'clock that night -the wind was blowing fresh from the east across the anchorage. Jetwind lay with her head to it. She tugged at her anchor cable as if eager to get going. I was in the crow's nest at the summit of No. 2 mast, directly overhead of the bridge, the mast I had visited with Kay. From my vantage-point, fifty-two metres above the deck, I could see the occasional surge from a white horse. The wind was building up; there was a lot more punch still to come. There couldn't be enough, for my business with the Almirante Storni.
I moved round to probe beyond The Narrows into the waters of Port William's outer anchorage. Where was the Almirante Storni? Any moment the warship should become visible. A cloud, fringed yellow along its edge by a track of reflected shore light, whipped at zero feet across the quartet of low hills separating us from the outer anchorage. These hills terminated at Navy Point, The Narrows' Western head-land. The cloud moved so fast that in no more than a couple of seconds it seemed to have blanketed the 300-metre passage, blacked out the navigation light on the opposite side at Engineer Point, and obscured a trio of further low hills on the eastern side of the entrance gap. Then the cloud blacked out the crow's nest itself. The wipers were ineffectual against the thick vapour.
I cursed the cloud. A visual sighting was the only way for me to spot the destroyer and give me the edge, since my eyrie was a few metres higher than the highest of the intervening hills. The warship's radar might indeed pick up the tops of Jetwind's masts but that would not be significant in a port with other ships about.
I put out the overhead light to extinguish any reflection from the crow's nest windows and peered into the darkness. If the destroyer came to anchor, she would -presumably – display normal anchor lights. Was the destroyer already in Port William? Was Captain Irizar playing possum with a blacked-out ship? I dismissed the idea. Captain Irizar had no reason to suspect anything on Jetwind's part. I was staking everything on the Almirante Storni navigating The Narrows in the small hours, based on Dawson's opinion that that would be the best time because of the local cloud peculiarity. If, on the other hand, Captain Irizar decided to anchor further out at sea, my break-out would abort because from that angle of approach he would spot Jetwind, and I was basing my entire plan on remaining invisible.
‘ had to get out tonight, and I had to prevent the Almirante Storni from pursuing me!
My nerves were too wrought-up to wait another hour for my council of war. I decided to summon the team now.
I picked up the phone, dialled Kay's cabin. 'Will you come to my quarters right away?' 'Is there anything wrong? You said ten o'clock.' 'I know. Nothing's wrong – yet.' ‘I’ll be right there.'
Brockton was not in his cabin but in the radio office with Arno. I decided to collect Tideman from the bridge en route to the meeting.
I found the bridge with its lighted consoles and static dial lights like a stage waiting for the players to enter. 'Everything okay?' I asked Tideman.
'Aye – just checking the hydraulics. All three diesels are operating.' ‘I’ve put the time of our meeting forward – it's now.'
He gave me a searching glance – perhaps I was showing more tension than I was aware of.
He said to the helmsman – one of his own sailor-paratroopers, ‘I’ll be in the captain's cabin. Call me if anything crops up.' 'Aye, aye, sir.'
My cabin, reached via the chartroom and navigation office, was beneath the starboard wing of the bridge. Kay and Brockton were waiting. The place was warm compared to the chill of the decks; wooden panelling made it additionally snug. It was quiet, too: no creak or murmur of the ship's fabric penetrated the rubber buffer strips on the doors and sound insulation behind the panelling. The accommodation was luxurious, if I'd had time to enjoy it.
I locked the door and waved the three of them into comfortable seats while I leaned against my big desk. Kay had shed her working rig in favour of navy slacks and pale mauve blouse under a jersey-knit waistcoat whose cut emphasized the line of her breasts, making her look twice as feminine.
‘I’m not going to beat about the bush,' I started off. 'I intend taking the ship out tonight.'
For a moment there was startled silence. Kay jumped up and hugged me spontaneously, and Brockton pump- handled my hand.
'I always knew you were a one-way guy, Peter!' he exclaimed delightedly.
However, my words seemed to produce most effect upon Tideman. He was looking directly at me when I made my announcement. There was a split-second fire burst behind his eyes; his face went taut like an instant face-lift.
'Now?' he jerked out. 'Now? I can be under way in ten minutes…'
I laughed and shook my head. Kay was still close enough for me to detect a trace of perfume.
She said enthusiastically, 'I thought I was keen to go, John! Ten minutes!'
Tideman seemed oblivious of her, and said to me, 'What's our course to the Cape? What's our course!’
Brockton's momentary euphoria also vanished. He repeated Tideman's question. 'Yes – the course, Peter?'
'You're all rather jumping the gun,' I said. 'First, I need your help, each one of you. I want to discuss the logistics of the break-out…' 'Break-out?' repeated Tideman. 'That's a strong word.'
'And I mean it,' I answered. 'Listen…' I outlined my interview with Dawson and his veiled threat to enlist the Almirante Storni against Jetwind, When I came to Captain Mortensen's suspected murder, Kay looked very grave.
'I felt all along that there was something about that so-called accident. It was impossible, as far as the furling mechanism was concerned,' she said.
'Murder only adds to our problems,5 I pointed out. 'It strengthens Dawson's hand, in fact. It could, in fact, give him some justification for calling upon the Almirante Storni for assistance.'
'Which means that the destroyer would pursue Jetwind once Captain Irizar discovers the bird has flown,' added Brockton.
Until then Tideman had been the perfect officer, highly efficient, deferential, somewhat Navy-formal. Now the
