It was broad daylight by now. Captain Rake would be waiting for him, preparing to produce the secret orders from the ship’s safe.
The Svea was heading south. The wind was still squalling and appeared to be veering in different directions. Towards the shore it had started raining again.
Chapter 17
The meeting between Captain Rake and Lars Tobiasson-Svartman was interrupted by an unexpected incident. They had just shaken hands and sat down in the leather chairs fixed to the floor of Rake’s suite when Lieutenant Sundfeldt marched in and announced that one of the crew had fallen ill. He could not judge if the man’s state was life-threatening, but he was in a lot of pain.
‘Nobody can simulate such fearful pain,’ said Lieutenant Sundfeldt.
Rake said nothing for a moment, staring at his hands. He was known to be a man who backed his crew to the hilt, and so Tobiasson-Svartman was not surprised when Rake rose to his feet.
‘The unfortunate fact is that our ship’s doctor, Hallman, has been given leave to attend his daughter’s wedding. I’m afraid we shall have to postpone our meeting.’
‘Of course.’
Rake was about to leave when he paused and turned.
‘Why not come along as well?’ he said. ‘Taking a look at a sick crewman is an excellent way of having a look round the ship. Who is he?’
The question was directed at Lieutenant Sundfeldt.
‘Johan Jakob Rudin. Bosun. Permanent crew member.’
Rake racked his brain.
‘The Rudin who signed on in August, in Kalmar?’
‘That’s the one.’
‘What is he suffering from?’
‘Stomach pains.’
Rake nodded.
‘My bosuns don’t complain without good cause.’
They walked down a narrow corridor then up a companionway and on to the deck. The cold, squally wind made them crouch down. Lieutenant Sundfeldt took the lead, followed by Captain Rake, with Tobiasson-Svartman bringing up the rear.
Once more he had the feeling he was taking part in a procession.
‘I have been in command of naval ships for nineteen years,’ said Rake. He was shouting, to make himself heard above the wind. ‘So far I’ve only lost four crew members,’ he went on. ‘Two died of a raging fever before we could get them to land, an engineer fell backwards off a companionway and broke his neck. I still believe the man was drunk, although it couldn’t be proved. Then I once had a mentally ill petty officer who threw himself overboard just off the Grundkallen lighthouse. There was something shameful behind the catastrophe, debts and forged bonds. I suppose I ought to have seen it coming, but it’s generally hard to stop a sailor who has really made up his mind to jump. Of course, we always carry a ship’s doctor — but this trip is an exception. It also has to be said that naval doctors are seldom the most competent ones around.’
Rake paused and was clearly annoyed as he pointed at a bucket standing next to a companionway. Lieutenant Sundfeldt ordered a rating to remove it immediately.
‘I learned a bit about medical diagnosis quite early in my career,’ Rake continued. ‘And I can pull teeth, of course. There are a few very simple ways of keeping folk alive for a bit longer. I console myself, and possibly also flatter myself, that I have significantly fewer deaths on my ships than any of my colleagues.’
They went on down various companionways until they came to the very bottom of the ship. Tobiasson-Svartman could feel that they were down by the waterline. The air was oppressive and the smell of oil stifling.
They continued their way downwards.
Chapter 18
The bosun was in his hammock. It smelled stuffy, with a stench of sweat and fear.
It was dark, and Tobiasson-Svartman had difficulty making out details. It was a considerable time before his eyes got used to the transition from light space to darkness.
Rake took off his gloves and leaned over the hammock. Rudin’s face was glistening, his eyes flickering restlessly. He looked like a terrified, cornered animal.
‘Where does it hurt?’ Rake said.
Rudin folded back the blanket to reveal his nightshirt. He pulled it up over his chest. All three men leaned over the hammock. Rudin pointed to a spot to the right of his navel. Moving his hand made him grimace in pain.
‘Has it been hurting for long?’ Rake said.
‘Since yesterday evening. We’d just left Stockholm when it started.’
‘Constant or on and off?’
‘On and off at first, but now all the time.’
‘Have you had anything like this before?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Think. Think hard.’
Rudin lay still, thinking.
‘No,’ he said eventually. ‘This is something new. I’ve never felt anything like it before.’
Rake lay his slender hand on the area Rudin had indicated. He pressed down, gently at first, then harder. Rudin pulled a face and groaned. Rake took his hand away.
‘I think it’s appendicitis.’
He straightened his back.
‘You need an operation. It’ll be OK.’
Rudin eyed his captain gratefully as he pulled the blanket up to his chin again. Despite lying down and being in pain, he saluted.
They returned to the upper deck. On the way Rake instructed Sundfeldt to tell the wireless operator to contact the Thule, one of the class 1 gunboats the Svea was due to meet east of the Sandsänkan lighthouse.
‘They ought to be heading north, somewhere between Västervik and Häradskär,’ Rake said. ‘The gunboat must come and meet us as quickly as possible, take Rudin on board and transport him to Bråviken. There’s a good hospital in Norrköping. I’ve no intention of losing one of my best bosuns unnecessarily.’
Lieutenant Sundfeldt saluted and made off. They returned to the captain’s quarters without speaking. Rake offered him a cigarette. Tobiasson-Svartman declined. He had tried to start smoking when he embarked on his naval officer training. He was one of only three on the course who did not smoke. But he never managed it. Inhaling the smoke from a cigarette or cigar made him feel as if he were choking, and he was in danger of panicking.
Rake lit his cigar with great attention to detail. All the time he was listening to the vibrations in the ship’s hull. Tobiasson-Svartman had noticed how older, more experienced sea dogs used to do this. They were always on the bridge in spirit, even when they were in their own quarters smoking a cigar. The vibrations were evidently transformed into images so that your experienced sailor always knew exactly what was what.
Then they talked about the war.
Chapter 19
Rake told how the British Fleet had left Scapa Flow as early as 27 July, in great haste and a certain degree of disarray, even though war had not yet been declared. The Admiralty had made it clear they had no intention of allowing the German blue-water fleet the least opportunity to attack British warships trapped in their bases. The periscopes of German submarines had been spotted by the crews of British fishing boats at dawn on 27 July. Trawlers on the way through the Pentland Firth to Dogger Bank further out in the North Sea had sighted at least three submarines.
Tobiasson-Svartman could see the charts in his mind’s eye. He had an almost photographic memory where sea charts were concerned. Scapa Flow, Pentland Firth, the British naval bases in the Orkney Islands: he could even recall the crucial details of depth soundings in the entry channels to the natural harbours.
‘It’s possible that the British Fleet is in for a surprise,’ Rake said thoughtfully.