Tom Attwood returned, and Asquith stopped talking. Letting him continue, “I want you all to take a look at these.” He opened up the box file and laid out a series of photographs. “I took the liberty of digging around in the U-boat archive files late last night. Initially, there were hundreds of images, which I whittled down to just a few. Now, based on the limited information that I was given, I decided to take a closer look at U-683. In fact, what I was actually looking for, were official photographs taken of it, if any, at around the time that she was supposed to have left St. Nazaire. But, during the course of my search, I found this.” He pointed to the first image on the desk. “This is U-683 taken by the look of it while she was undergoing a refit at St. Nazaire.” He pointed to the next image. “Now this is one of a small number of official photographs that were saved by a Kriegsmarine rating and handed over after the war, it’s also where things start to get confusing. Take a very close look at this image, and in particular the U-boat’s water line.” He produced a magnifying glass. “Notice how high the submarine is sitting in the water at the dockside.”
“So what are you getting at?” Asked LJ.
“This last image tells a completely different story. This forms part of a collection taken by a member of the French Resistance, and handed over to the war museum in nineteen forty-nine. This shot was apparently taken while the area was being reconnoitred prior to being bombed by our boys. Unknowingly, he or she captured U-683 leaving the pen. I would have missed this one, had it not been for the number sequence of the frames and the date mark. Which incidentally is the same as the official photograph, but taken ten hours later.” The young assistant pushed the photograph in front of LJ, and handed him the magnifying glass.
“Great heavens above.”
“What is it?” Cunningham and Asquith asked in unison.
“Here, see for yourselves?” LJ, pulled out a packet of cigars from his coat pocket, extracted one and lit it with a gold lighter. Before getting up in a billowing cloud of smoke, and walking around the office.
Oliver Asquith studied the black and white image through the large lenses, before saying, “You’ve done a good job, Tom.”
“It might have helped, if I’d known exactly what was it was I should have been looking for Professor!”
“Later Tom, you’ve done a great job, thank you. Now, off you go back to your dusty old artefacts.”
Tom Attwood departed with a smile. and Oliver Asquith turned to LJ and Nathan.
“You say that there was only a skeleton crew on board that sub, and therefore only minimum stores would have been required. Which means that even if we take in to account the amount of fuel required for the entire voyage, there would still be no way on earth that a VIIC submarine would be sitting that low in the water. Unless, that is, there was something of immense weight on board. Like I said before, gold bullion bars, gentlemen?”
“You my Lord, have an over active imagination,” LJ replied jovially. Oliver Asquith smiled urbanely, from across his desk.
“It’s only a theory, the gold I mean. That may never be proven one way or another if the Ministry of Defence or the Home Office gets wind of it. Which brings me to my question of what the Partners think. Have you spoken to them about this matter yet, LJ?” Oliver inquired.
“Yes, I spoke with both of them late last evening. They eventually gave me the green light to organise an assignment, once I’d fully explained the situation and convinced them that it wasn’t some practical joke that Nat was playing. But they do agree that absolute secrecy has got to be maintained and that the best policy for the time being is to keep this whole affair as far away as possible from any Government agency. As for sending anyone to Jersey, that will be entirely at my discretion. There was just one stipulation that they made, they insisted that I run the whole thing past Sir Lucius Stagg”.
“As luck would have it, we had to pass by his house last night on our way back from dinner, and left the letters and diary with him. What an amazing character he is, do you know even at the age of seventy-three he still only needs three hours sleep a night?”
“Anyway, I digress, after he’d read and fully digested the contents of both letters and the diary, he decided to phone me at five o’clock this morning to inform me that he would give us whatever backing was required to solve the mystery. But insisted that I keep him up to speed with any discoveries that we make. But let’s all be very clear about one thing, gentlemen. It’s the thought of Nazi gold bullion that got us the go ahead, not the belief that we may discover the original Spear of Destiny inside that U-boat.” LJ continued to pace the office, blowing cigar smoke into the air as he walked.
“That’s excellent news, LJ,” Nathan exclaimed, adding. “But tell me, do you really think the Nazis had Gold on board U-683?”
“One can only guess, but my theory runs something like this. Hitler knew that his body was failing him, just like his armies had failed him and that the war was all but over, except for the Russians running amuck through his beloved Berlin. He would have ordered Himmler to get the Spear of Destiny as far away as possible from Germany and the Americans. I would imagine that while Donitz was aware of the basic details regarding the mission, and of course able to ensure a method of relatively safe passage for the spear. He probably didn’t know that there was to be other cargo on board the submarine. I would hazard a guess that the cavern beneath Jersey was Himmler’s secret place of hiding, not only for the spear, but whatever else that U-boat was carrying. The likelihood is that he was feathering his own future and only his. But I’m sure that the cavern would have been originally accessed from the land and not the sea tunnel. One thing is certain, though. They would have needed expert assistance, because the seabed would have almost certainly had to be specially cut using explosives to allow the submarine with her extraordinary weight, to gain access. Himmler thought that cavern to be so well hidden, as not to be found. Need I say more, gentlemen?”
“If that is the case, then what you are suggesting is that an attempt should be made to recover what is inside the cargo hold as well as anything else in the tunnels leading to the cavern. Before anyone else does?” Nathan said plainly.
“Yes, that would seem the sensible thing to do. And I know just the man to handle such an assignment.” LJ got up from his chair. “And now you really must excuse us Oliver. I have an extremely tight schedule.”
“Of course. Nathan it was good to meet you. LJ, I must insist that I’m included as a part of the team you put together. As a consultant of course.”
“I’ll be in touch Oliver, count on that, old son.”
The three men walked back up from the basement, through the main entrance of the museum, and paused at the top of the steps. They shook hands with Oliver Asquith, who reinforced his request to be a part of the team sent to Jersey. “And remember to call me as soon as you know anything, LJ,” he said as he watched them walk away.
Nathan and LJ walked along the pavement in front of the British Museum towards Guy Roberts who was waiting patiently in the Mercedes. Once they were sat in the rear of the luxury car, Nathan said. “Is he always that pushy?”
“Not usually, and to be quite truthful, Nat, I’ve never seen him like that before.”
“I suppose he’s married?”
“No, not at present. As a matter of fact he’s been married at least three times.
“Good God, man must be a glutton for punishment.”
“Well, that may be the case, Nat. But, you see he has rather a weakness for young homosexual men. Which, unfortunately for Oliver has been his undoing. It’s all rather sad really, he’s never been honest enough with himself, to come right out of the closet, and tell everyone. All of the wives have found out eventually, and have left him. Imagine all of those divorces, must have cost him a fortune. Has a magnificent pile of bricks in North Dorset, though. That is, when he gets the time to go down there.”