“I see,” Asquith said thoughtfully. “Any ideas as to why he would have been killed?”
“No, it’s all a bit weird really. He’d not been in the job long enough to make any enemies. But, there’ll be a full MI5 investigation into the murder. Special Branch are sending over one of their top people to assist us with the process.”
“So, you’re conducting your own investigation?”
“Oh yes, you know what we’re like when one of our own gets hit. And, I’m confident that we’ll find out who is responsible. Are you free for lunch? I’ve something I need to discuss with you about your forthcoming trip to Jordan.”
“Yes, but it will have to be at the museum. I’ve got a meeting with a delegation from the Egyptian National Museum, later this morning. And then I’m giving a seminar this afternoon to a bunch of unruly undergraduates.”
“The museum is fine, I’ll see you around one-fifteen.”
Shaking with fear, Asquith dropped the phone back down onto its cradle. He looked at his watch. He’d been talking to Digby for just over five minutes, and was now so frightened by the implications of what he’d been told. That in his panic, his first instinct was to immediately pick the phone up again, and contact Hugo Malakoff on board his luxury yacht the Solitaire.
His intention was to warn Malakoff, that Simon Digby was going to throw everything he could, at finding the killer of Guy Roberts. But, he was told that the Frenchman was not available, and to phone back later in the day. After taking a few minutes to calm down, and to compose himself, he left his London home and walked the short distance to the British Museum.
High overhead, a blazing sun beat down from a cloudless blue sky. And on board the power cruiser, Dillon and Chapman were checking over their equipment one more time.
“We’ll head straight for the rocks,” Chapman said, pointing towards the cliffs, “and then move along the cliff face until we find the tunnel entrance. But, I want you to stick close to me. The current’s running between ten and fifteen knots today, and believe me, you’ll know about it when we get down there.”
Dillon sat on the dive platform with his feet dangling in the water, pulled on his buoyancy jacket, and made sure that his dive computer was switched on. There was a heavy swell, making the boat pull against the anchor line, and rhythmically roll and pitch with every wave.
Chapman came to the dive platform, and sat down next to Dillon, who had pulled on his fins, and was rinsing out his dive mask.
“This is going to be some roller coaster ride, you know that, don’t you?”
“I’ve dived in worse waters than these, and have lived to tell the tale. So, don’t you going worrying about me, Rob. I can look after myself.”
At that moment, LJ shouted down from the flying bridge, “Are you chaps ready to go yet?”
“Any minute now.” Dillon shouted back.
Chapman zipped up his buoyancy jacket, and stood up. “We’ll stay at ten metres for this part of the dive, which will gain us more time later.” He pulled on his mask, and waited for the swell to rise high, took one step forward and was instantly gone in a rush of bubbles. The water was so clear that Dillon could easily mark his progress, as he swam to the anchor line, and a moment later followed him.
LJ was on the flying bridge, peering through high powered binoculars, for anything untoward on the cliff tops and out to sea. Vince was standing beside him, his eyes riveted to the small computer monitor that was hooked up to the power cruiser’s satellite navigation system. Dillon and Chapman were both wearing tracking devices, and it was these, that were making the tiny blips on the screen.
“Is that them?” LJ said pointing to the two small dots blinking on the screen.
“Yes, the one in front is Chapman. The other Dillon, his blinks at a faster rate, so that we can tell who’s who.”
“Um, very appropriate.” LJ said, as he resumed his watching. After five minutes, both Dillon and Chapman surfaced, swam around to the dive platform, slipped off their buoyancy jackets complete with air tanks, and climbed aboard.
“Unbelievably clear water,” Dillon said. “We’ve located the tunnel entrance, and no wonder that it’s never been discovered before now. It’s a maelstrom down there, like another world. What with the force of the current, fissures, and large lumps of granite everywhere. And, it’s as we thought it might be, the entrance has been partially blocked by what looks like a recent landslide.”
“So what’s your next move?” LJ asked.
“We’re going to blow a way in, using the Semtex at various points around the entrance, with a five minute delay chemical detonator fuse.” Dillon replied, and then added, “As long as we can dislodge some of those rocks down there. It should give us an opening that’s large enough to swim through with our air bottles on our backs.”
“Are you sure?” LJ said.
“Quite sure. And, as you’re fully aware, I’ve done this many times before.” Dillon said firmly.
“Have you got everything you need, Jake?”
“Everything that I’m going to need, is in my dive bag, Rob.”
“Okay, let’s get back down there then.”
Dillon was already being helped back into his buoyancy jacket by Vince. Chapman handed him an underwater spot light and kept one for himself.
“I’ll see you at the anchor line, and remember, Rob. Once I’ve set that fuse, we’ll need to surface at once.”
Chapman nodded, and then followed Dillon a moment later by waiting until the swell lifted, and then stepped off the platform.
It was astonishingly clear and very blue near to the surface. Dillon could see with ease Chapman descending to the seabed. As he approached the anchor line, a number of trigger fish moved past him and when he looked up there was a large shoal of small silvery bib fish overhead.
The current was strong, so fierce that as Dillon made his way down to the seabed, he was constantly being buffeted sideways. Near the bottom, he paused for a brief moment, and was instantly aware that he was drifting away from Chapman. Dillon swam against the current to where Chapman was checking his dive computer. Noting that they were at fifty feet, Chapman gestured for Dillon to follow him down into the great scar of the channel, where the seabed was smooth with white sand. He led the way towards the black granite rock face, and the tunnel entrance.
Dillon opened his dive bag, took out the Semtex and handed the net containing the chemical detonators to Chapman. They worked methodically, Dillon carefully pressing the plastic explosive in place at strategic points against the surface of the large fallen pieces of granite. When he was satisfied that he’d used enough, Chapman handed him the chemical detonating pencils. Dillon took out four and gave the net back to Chapman, and then broke the first one, pushing it into the Semtex. A second later, a small spiral of bubbles started to rise, and Dillon quickly broke the other three pencils, pushed them home, and gave Chapman a thumbs up sign to indicate that he’d finished.
Dillon glanced at his dive computer. Four and a half minutes, he gestured to Chapman to surface and then swam up, and out of the channel, he went straight to the anchor and slowly started up the line, holding on with one hand, Chapman just behind him. At ten feet they left the line, and moved under the hull to the rear of the power cruiser. Dillon broke through to the surface; and immediately checked his dive computer again. Two minutes and twenty seconds. He threw his fins onto the deck, slipped out of his buoyancy jacket and air tanks, and handed them up to Vince. Chapman did the same, and then both men climbed up on to the rear dive platform.