Medusa

He paused, staring at me sombrely. ‘You ever b’n at a court martial?’ He didn’t wait for me to shake my head, but went straight on: ‘That’s what’ll happen to me, y’know, They’ll fly me to Portsmouth, an’ just inside the main gate, ther’shpeshul room for poor buggers like me who’ve run their ships aground, an’ you go back in with the prisoner’s friend an’ there’s your sword with the b-blade pointing at you.’ He shook his head angrily. ‘An’ all because I can’t tell them the truth about why I ran Medusa ashore. All because of that devil Pat …’ His voice trailed away. ‘If Pat hadn’t got hold of her … I can’t tell them that, can I? So I’ll be shot — figuratively, you un’erstand. They’d never …’ His head was nodding. ‘Never admit personal reason as legit-gitimate defence.’ He reached out his hand to the side table, groping for his glass.

‘That’s the second bottle.’ Petra had come back and was standing looking at him. ‘I’ve given her something to make her sleep. She’ll be all right now.’ She nodded towards Gareth. ‘After they’d recovered the inflatable he insisted on coming ashore with me. Said he wanted to see you. But I think it was Soo really. He wanted to make certain she was all right.’ And she added, ‘He’s been here ever since — waiting. What are we going to do with him? He can’t go back to his ship in that state. And he’s worried sick about the future.’ She touched my arm. ‘Why did he do it, Mike? I was there. I saw it. He ran his ship aground — deliberately. Why?’

That was the question the Board of Enquiry was to ask him four days later. Not because Mrs Suzanne Steele was being held as hostage, they didn’t know about that at the outset. Their primary concern was whether he could have achieved his purpose of holding fast in the approaches to Mahon without the need to ground his ship. But that was before they called Lieutenant Commander Mault to give evidence.

V

Board of Enquiry

Chapter One

It never occurred to me that I would be involved. A Naval Board of Enquiry, Gareth explained as I took him down the stairs and out into the bright sunlight next morning, is much like that for any commercial shipping incident, except that the resulting report often includes a recommendation for court martial proceedings to be taken against those thought to be responsible. ‘I shall, of course, be held solely responsible. And rightly.’

He stood there for a moment on the quay, looking out to the frigate half-merged in the shadowed bulk of the hospital ruins. ‘I’ll be relieved of my command and sent back for trial.’ He said it slowly, a note of resignation in his voice. He looked dreadful in that dazzlingly crisp light, dark rings under his eyes, a worried look and his mouth compressed to a hard line. Then suddenly he smiled and his face lit up. ‘Must be one of the shortest and most fraught commands anybody has ever had.’ He shook his head, still smiling, and with a careful jauntiness walked across the quay to the waiting launch.

His last words to me before jumping in were, Tell her to forget all about me. I shan’t attempt to see her again.’ He thanked me then for putting him up for the night, gave me a quick, perfunctory salute, and seated himself in the stern.

It was Masterton who was in charge again. He looked up at me, waiting for me to follow. ‘Well, don’t let’s hang around, Midshipman Masterton,’ Gareth snapped at him. ‘Get going.’

‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.’ The boy gave the order to cast off. ‘My regards to Miss Callis please,’ he called out to me brightly. Then he swung the launch away from the quay and headed out to the grounded frigate, where the port tug was already standing by to try to tow her off on the top of the tide.

That was Saturday and by mid-morning, with the help of one of the Spanish destroyers, Medusa was off the rocks and lying to her anchor some three cables off the Club Maritimo, not far from where the oil tanker usually anchored. Apart from the fact that her pumps had to be kept going and that extra pumps brought in from the Naval Base were gushing water over the side, she looked perfectly all right. However, divers were down most of the day examining the stern, and that evening I heard that both propellers were damaged and it was thought the port prop shaft had been forced out of alignment. She was expected to be towed to Barcelona for repairs within the week.

Wade phoned me from London on Sunday morning to ask if I had any news of Evans. His voice sounded relaxed, even friendly. And when I told him I hadn’t the slightest idea where the man was, he laughed and said, ‘No, I didn’t expect you would. But did you gather any idea what his future plans were? You had a meeting with him on Medusa.’

‘How do you know that?’