and see what the bag's like.'
We went forward, walking as though the ship belonged to us. As we went, Geordie said softly, 'Never dodge about when there's no need. Nothing looks more suspicious. I mean, suppose someone's watching the deck right now – we could be any pair of the crew.'
He slowed as he came to the deckhouse where a stream of light splashed on the deck from the door. He peered cautiously round the edge of the door, then snorted. 'I might have known,' he said resignedly. 'It's Taffy the gutser. What do you think you're doing, Taff?'
He stepped into the deckhouse and I followed to find that it led straight into the galley. Taffy was sawing at a loaf of bread. 'Making myself a sandwich, skipper,' he said.
'You bloody cormorant. How many did you get?'
'Three.'
'Kane? Hadley?'
'Not a sign. If they're aboard, they're below. But they'll be safe – we battened down the hatches.'
'Well, we'll unbatten them and clean up below,' said Geordie. 'It only needs one of 'em to decide he'd like a nice breath of sea air and find he can't get on deck. When you've finished your supper, Mr Morgan, we'd all be grateful if you got back on the job. And before you leave the galley clean up – and then find the flour bin and tip the salt into it.'
'Yes, sergeant,' said Taffy.
We went to the wheelhouse and found the others. Ian was unscrewing the central holding bolt of the wheel- bearing with an adjustable spanner. He looked up at Geordie and said solemnly, 'Might as well cause a bit of inconvenience while we're here.' He withdrew the bolt and casually tossed it overboard, then spun the wheel. 'They'll have a wee bit of trouble in their steering, I'm thinking.'
'Very nice, but a little premature,' said Geordie. 'Let's get the job finished first. Mike and I will take the forehatch and clean out the fo'c's'le. Ian and Bill, take this hatch here. Jim, you'll find Taffy stuffing his guts in the galley – you take amidships. Got your stuff?'
'I've got it, skipper.'
'Right. We'll all go down simultaneously. I'll give the signal – and try not to make too much noise. Come on, Mike.'
When we got to the forehatch Geordie paused. 'We'll give them a minute to get ready.' He shook his head sadly. That bloody Welshman.'
I looked aft along the deck. It was very quiet and there was nothing to be seen, and I thought how easy it had all been – so far. These ex-commandoes seemed to take it all as a joke, as I suppose it was to men who had tackled alert Germans. But I wasn't deceived; it was their very competence that made it seem easy.
Geordie startled me by uttering that same hollow whistle I'd heard before. 'Come on,' he said softly. 'Me first.'
He lifted up the hatch gently and went down the companionway. The forecastle was dimly lit by a single lamp and appeared full of shadowy shapes. When I got to the bottom of the steps I found Geordie fastening the door which led to the midships accommodation by means of a small wooden wedge which he took from his pocket. The door fastened, he turned to look round the forecastle. Tiers of bunks, three high, lined the triangular space formed by the bows of the ship. They pack the bastards in like sardines, I thought. There was a snoring noise and Geordie looked round quickly, put his fingers to his lips for my benefit and crept forward very gently, and then waved me forward. He was looking at a middle berth upon which was sleeping a villainously unshaven seaman. He put his lips close to my ear and said, 'Check the other bunks.'
I tiptoed round the forecastle, looking into every bunk, but found no one else. I got back to Geordie and shook my head.
He said loudly, 'All right, let's wake up the sleeping beauty.'
The man snored again, drawing back his upper lip.
Geordie shook him by the shoulder. 'Come on, chum. Prepare to meet thy doom.' The man opened his eyes and looked up uncomprehendingly and then Geordie hit him on the chin with a fist like a hammer.
He rubbed his knuckles and said, a little apologetically, 'I never like to hit a sleeping man. It seems a bit unfair somehow.'
I looked at the seaman. He was out cold.
Geordie looked round the forecastle again. 'Nine a side. They pack eighteen in here. The Board of Trade would never allow this back home. Right, let's see what else there is. The next one might be the lucky draw, Mike.'
He took the wedge out of the door and opened it carefully. We checked all the compartments we came across, even the toilets. 'Nothing like catching a man with his pants down,' Geordie chuckled.
We found nothing.
The ship rocked a little more heavily and we both stiffened but there was no hue and cry and we carried on slowly until suddenly there was a shadow at the end of the passage and Taffy came into sight. He was eating an apple.
Geordie sniffed. 'Look at that. You'd think he'd get fatter, wouldn't you? He was just the same in the army – holding the war up while he rammed himself full.' There were two cabins remaining between ourselves and Taffy and we each investigated one, with negative results.
'What did you get?' demanded Geordie.
Taffy crunched on his apple. 'Ian put one laddie to sleep -he wasn't Kane and not big enough by all accounts to be Hadley.'
'Damn! The bastards aren't here, then. We got another-that's seven.'
'One in the bows and we got two more, skipper,' Taffy said. 'That's seven on board.'
Geordie began to calculate. 'There's no less than fifteen getting boozed up ashore – that makes twenty-two. And there's eight at the hotel – that's thirty.'
'The ship's over-crewed,' said Taffy with the air of one making a profound statement.
'So is a battleship,' snapped Geordie. 'And that's what this is. They wouldn't need all this crowd just to handle the ship. Where's Jim?'
'In the engine room.'
'Good. You nip up on deck and keep watch. I don't think any of the officers will be coming back now, but the crew will, and Ramirez might come back for a check-up.'
We went aft and found Ian breaking open a desk in one of the bigger cabins. I was about to protest when I realized that it hardly mattered what we did now, short of murder. 'Ramirez lives here,' he told us.
The desk gave us nothing of interest or use and we glanced through his clothing quickly. It was elegant and extensive for shipboard life. 'Have you found our birds?' Ian asked as we worked.
'Neither of them,' I said. 'We've slipped up on this one. Campbell is going to be mad.'
Ian was disconsolate. 'My mannie wasn't Hadley. He had a black beard,' he said.
Geordie pricked up his ears. 'Are you sure it wasn't him, or Kane, in a disguise?'
'Na, na,' said Ian. 'It was too long. Kane couldn't have grown it in the time, and Hadley was clean-shaven. And it was real – I pulled it.'
I was looking down and saw Geordie peeling back the carpet, revealing a recessed ring-bolt. 'What's down there?' I asked.
'We can soon find out.' He grasped the ring-bolt and pulled, opening a trap-door. He pulled a torch from his pocket and flashed it down the hole.
'Christ!' he said, and pulled out a sub-machine gun.
We looked at it in silence, and then Geordie said, 'I told you this was a flaming battleship.'
'Let's see what else there is,' I said.
Five minutes later we were surrounded by enough weapons to start a small war. There were four sub-machine guns, fifteen rifles of assorted pattern, half a dozen pistols and a dozen hand grenades.
I summoned up a laugh. 'I wonder what Chamant would have thought of this little lot? He nearly had heart failure at the sight of our four pistols.' But I was feeling a little sick, looking at our haul and my hands, which had been fine up to that moment, were sweating slightly.
Geordie said thoughtfully, 'You were a pretty good armourer in your time, Ian. How would you put this lot out of action?'
