As a further example of how everyone could assume that they, themselves, were in the right and that it was up to the other bloke to give way, Athenian’s second mate came wandering out on their port wing, took one look at us — which, to my biased mind, he should have done a bloody sight farther back — then grabbed for his Aldis. GO AWAY CHARLIE I GET NERVOUS WHEN I’M ACCOSTED…
I left it to Charlie Shell to deal with his opposite number across the water, which he did with an aggressive GET KNOTTED PAL IT IS YOU WHO ARE SOLICITING US.
Then Mallard, carrying out an optimistic Asdic sweep ahead of us, had to join in the act too. Braid had obviously seen the incident and wasted no time in admonishments.
COMESCORT TO MASTER ATHENIAN… SUGGEST YOU DROP FIVE CABLES ASTERN CYCLOPS TO AVOID PHYSICAL VIOLENCE BETWEEN WATCHKEEPERS IF NOT BETWEEN VESSELS SIGNED BRAID END.
Larabee was leaning over the rail at the top of the boat deck ladder as I climbed it, having just completed my after-dinner rounds of the ship. His private bodyguard, a bored-looking able seaman, lounged at the entrance to the wireless room, which also annoyed me. If he hadn’t been up there, then the Bosun would sure as hell have had him chipping rust or up to his elbows in soojee. Then I remembered that the daywork men would have been finished for the night by now anyway, so I didn’t say anything.
The Second Sparks grinned sourly as I pulled myself up to deck level. ‘Evenin’, Mate.’
I nodded coldly and hoped he wasn’t going to start talking about what a hot-shot radioman he was. He seemed to have other things on his mind, though. ‘I see we’re headin’ east now, then.’
I nodded again. At this time of night, and with the setting sun almost burning our tails off, it didn’t need a Vasco da Gama to figure that one out. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, well I still think we should’ve gone farther south before we headed for the Cape.’
He must have been the only man on board who wasn’t damned glad to be heading for Africa for a change, even despite the possible hazards that lay ahead. I still couldn’t bring myself to be nice to him, though. ‘If we went much farther south, Larabee, we’d be in more danger from bloody icebergs than U-boats.’
He grinned sardonically. ‘Come off it, Mate. We can’t be all that far past the Cape? What’s a few more miles between friends?’
I ignored the ‘friend’ bit. ‘More days and more exposure to risk, for a start.’
‘Aye, but we’d maybe stand a better chance of gettin’ round back of the Jerrys doin’ it my way.’
I was interested despite my aversion to the man. Anything that suggested greater safety was of interest right now. ‘And what’s your way, Mister Larabee?’
He shrugged. ‘Roughly speakin’ I say we should head due south for, maybe, two hundred miles past the Cape to avoid all the converging shipping lanes into Cape Town — they’re dead naturals for any U-boat waitin’ for a target — cut east till we have Port Elizabeth broad on our beam, then right round an’ flat out on zero, zero, zero. Like cutting round three sides of a box if you see what I’m getting at. They’re bound to have bunkering facilities in Elizabeth anyroad, Mate, What do we want goin’ to a busy place like Cape Town, apart from to attract attention to ourselves?’
He was certainly correct there, to my mind anyway. Publicity was the one thing we didn’t need right now, and the bigger the port, presumably the more comprehensive the screen of U-boats around it. In fact, everything he said made sense in a way, if you ignored the extra steaming time involved. But then, Larabee didn’t know what we carried in our strongroom. Or did he? Otherwise why should he assume we were something special?
Something in the way he had this all figured made me glance at him suspiciously. ‘What makes you so sure all our trouble lies the way we’re heading, Larabee? We’re already well to the sou’west of the normal lanes… Why should the Germans be expecting us to come into the Cape from where we are now, never mind from even farther south?’
He seemed to shift uncomfortably, or maybe it was just my imagination. Then his frown cleared and he winked knowingly. ‘Who are you tryin’ to kid. Mate? I’ve got eyes the same as everyone else on this bucket. I saw the fancy illuminations out there last night, same as you and the Captain did. And that sub this morning. Are you tryin’ to pretend it was coincidence that she was where she happened to be? She’d have been wasted down here if she hadn’t been waitin’ for us. There’s not another allied boat for miles.’
I still wasn’t happy but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. ‘You seem to be very keen to go farther south, that’s all I know, Larabee. There’ve been a lot of funny things happening on this trip and all of them have tended to make us follow exactly the same plan you’ve suggested. The Commandant whatsit—the Froggie — she was hit from the port side.’
He shook his head, still smiling, but the hooded eyes looked very bright as he gazed at me. ‘So she had to get it from one side or the other. Where’s the big conclusion in that?’
‘There isn’t! But factor in the distress from the Kent Star and those unexplained lights you mentioned, plus that sub this morning? Add them together and you’re getting some kind of pattern, Larabee. Pressure to do exactly what you’re proposing we should compound. Like grab for more and more southing.’
As I spoke it all started to fit together. I could also see that Larabee and I were due for another big blow-up. We seemed to react to each other like gunpowder and flame. Was he just getting mad because he could see that I was setting out to needle him, or was I genuinely rubbing some secret nerve that he’d unwittingly exposed?
He started to smack one hand in the palm of the other. ‘What the bloody hell are you suggesting, Kent? That I’m some kind of super spy or somethin’? Those lights in the night… Did I have some kind of speed boat that could whip me out there, set them off, then sneak back fifteen miles with no one to see me? Did I? And that Kent Star signal you’re so obsessed by…? Listen, Mate, I wasn’t even on watch when that came through. Foley took it, for Christ’s sake! Foley and the Navy corvette — they both picked it up. You’re off your bastard chump: you’re so bloody scared an’ suspicious…’
He stopped suddenly when he saw me staring at him. I’d expected, in fact invited, him to haul off at me, but never quite as violently as that. For a few moments then he’d acted like he did that night in the radio room, like a man close to the edge under strain… or guilt?
Because there was still someone aboard Cyclops who pushed men over the side and who fired guns at other ships in the middle of the night: that was one thing Larabee couldn’t pretend hadn’t happened.
I was about to retort when Larabee forestalled me resentfully. ‘Yeah, I know. Now you’re goin’ to say it was me heaved that old drunk, Foley, over the wall, aren’t you?’
I didn’t say yes, but then again I didn’t deny it. Childish spite, I suppose. I just stood and looked at him and maybe enjoyed myself a little, feeling about him the way I did. He glared at me tight-lipped for a moment then, disconcertingly, smiled and shrugged. ‘OK, OK, if that’s what you think, Kent, then jus’ you go ahead an’ do two things… One, try an’ bloody prove it. And two — just ask yourself, if I’m such a suspect character in your book, then why did I get the Old Man to put a strong-arm Popeye like him…’ he jerked his head contemptuously at the still lounging and apparently indifferent A.B., ‘right outside my bloody door?’