Medusa

Time of receipt of the message he passed to me was 21.13. It read: Weapon that killed Jorge Martinez found in home of Michael Steele. Police statement just issued indicates Steele arrived Malta on twin-hulled yacht Thunderflash then disappeared. Recent owner of yacht name of Evans also wanted for questioning; thought to be on fishing expedition. Political situation here still tense. In view of what happened Malta suggest you anchor off Villa Carlos well clear of Mahon port area.

I was still in a state of shock, reading again the first lines of that message, when he said, ‘You understand, I hope — the sooner you’re off my ship the better.’ I began to protest that I had had nothing to do with the Martinez killing, but he stopped me. ‘Whether you were involved or not is immaterial. The gun was apparently found in your house and I’ve got troubles enough — ’

‘It wasn’t in my house. It was in the port engine compartment — ’

‘I don’t care where it was,’ he cut in. ‘I want you off the ship and the sooner — ’

‘For God’s sake, listen will you …’

‘No, you listen.’ His hand was up, an abrupt, imperative gesture. ‘I’m sorry, but you must understand. You’re dynamite in my present circumstances.’ He took the paper from me, staring down at it and muttering something about ‘he was bound to be mixed up in it somewhere’, then folding it and slipping it into his pocket with a bitter little laugh as he told me I was probably the least of his worries, everybody blaming him for the Malta Incident. ‘And the PM insisting I act with more circumspection in Menorca. Circumspection! That’ll be the Foreign Office putting their oar in.’ The boyish smile flashed out, but it was only a glimmer, then he banged his cap on his head and was gone, hurrying down the ladder to the Communications Office.

I finished my coffee, my mind in turmoil. Finally I went back up to the bridge, preferring contact with the outside world to the confines of the cabin, where I had nothing to do but think about Soo and what the hell had been going on for that gun to have been found in the house.

The watch was just changing, and shortly afterwards young Davison, a fresh-faced, tow-headed officer-under-training appeared at my elbow to say the Captain had phoned to enquire if I would join him for a drink.

I found him sitting hunched over his desk, the reading light pulled down to spotlight the pad on which he had been making notes, hs face, his whole body set rigid, and a cigarette smouldering in a scallop-shell ashtray. He looked up, his eyes blank.

‘What is it?’ I asked. And when he didn’t reply, I said, ‘You asked me down for a drink.’

‘Oh yes.’ His eyes blinked quickly and he seemed to pull himself together, jumping to his feet and waving me to a seat at the low table. He picked up the bottle standing there. ‘Real cognac, or would you prefer brandy and ginger ale?’ I opted for the cognac, and as he poured it the neck of the bottle rattled against the rim of the glass. That, and the awkward silence as he helped himself to a Coke and sat down opposite me, was an indication of how tensed-up he was.

‘You’re thinking about tomorrow,’ I said.

He nodded, stubbing out the remains of his cigarette, lighting another, then leaning back, drawing the smoke into his lungs as though he were at high altitude sucking in oxygen. In the silence that followed I was conscious of the engines, the far-off sound of the bow wave surging along the frigate’s side, the rattle of crockery in the steward’s pantry.

‘I was wondering …’ But it’s not easy to ask a favour of a man who’s in love with your wife. ‘Why don’t you drop me off on one of the islands as you go into Mahon?’ I asked him finally, very conscious of the hesitancy in my voice. He was the Captain of a Royal Navy ship on an official visit and my suggestion was tantamount to smuggling a wanted man back into Spain. And when he didn’t say anything, I made the point that I hadn’t asked to stay on his ship. ‘You virtually kidnapped me.’ And I added, ‘Drop me off. Forget I was ever on board.’

‘Yes, I’ve thought of that.’ He nodded. ‘But there’s over two hundred men on this ship and most of them know you’re here.’ He got up, pacing back and forth behind me so nervously that I began to think it must be a more personal matter he wanted to discuss. He and Soo had probably been corresponding while he was in Malta, or before he had left Gibraltar. They might even have made up their minds already. But then he said, ‘How well do you know Pat?’

‘Evans?’ I swung round in my chair.

‘Yes.’ He had stopped pacing. ‘What do you know about him?’