“No, sir, not immediately. Boiler clean next month, or the one after. Condensers later in the year, no doubt, but nothing for the while, sir, due to the yard foreman having married my sister last year, she being a widow, which did us no end of good, you might say.”
“Nothing like keeping it in the family, Chief. Have you taken all of your courses?”
“Every last one, sir. Up to date as of July ’14. Passed them all, sir.”
“Very good! We might wish to discuss that, Chief.”
“I put in my application to be considered for commissioned status when I passed my last course, sir. Heard nothing.”
“No promises – I am too junior to be able to make them.”
“Thank you, sir. Have you spoken to the new Coxswain about the accidents over the last few months, sir? Might be he could do a bit of digging. Unusual for destroyer hands to fall over the railings, even in the blackest nights, sir.”
The Chief saluted and left the bridge.
“What does that sound like to you, Mr Rees?”
“The same as it sounded to you, sir. Do we speak to Westerman now or wait until the First arrives?”
Simon thought a few seconds.
“Pull them both, and you, into my cabin as soon as the new man gets here.”
“There were some who fell down open hatches, as well, sir. All hatches should always be battened down.”
“Ears open and mouth shut for the while, Mr Rees.”
“Nothing to the subs or young Waller, sir?”
“Not yet. Wait a moment.” Simon turned to Higgins, still considering the seagulls. “Enough now, Sub! He’s gone. Did you hear anything these last few minutes?”
Higgins pondered for a few seconds and then smiled.
“Not a thing, sir!”
“Well done! There may be hope for you yet. Get below and see to your cabin space. I shall hold the bridge for the while.”
“Aye aye, Horatius!”
With that daring sally, Higgins disappeared below.
“Horatius?”
“He held the bridge, sir. Some sort of Classical thing.”
“Witty! Speak to him quietly and tell him it was funny but not to be repeated – captains are allowed to be humourists, subs ain’t.”
Lieutenant Canning arrived in mid-afternoon, irritated by a tedious journey.
“Dover to London to Harwich, sir – hardly a circumnavigation! Seven hours!”
Simon winced in sympathy.
“Excessive! I presume you are the new First.”
“Sorry, sir. Canning, sir, reporting to join, hours later than I should have been!”
“Welcome aboard, Mr Canning. What do you know about this posting?”
“Nothing, sir. I was woken at seven o’clock in the depot ship and given a travel warrant and told to be on my way. I did not even know I was to be First until you said so.”
“Well, you are, and you have a job on your plate! Sublieutenant McCracken is the sole officer remaining from last night. The coxswain has been replaced as well. Lancelot is in a mess and we have a very few days to fix her. We have the half-section, so a band painted on the forrard funnel as soon as possible. After that, a watch rota. First, a meeting in my cabin with the Coxswain and the Commissioned Gunner. I shall explain all out of sight and hearing. Do you have destroyer experience, by the way?”
“No, sir. First time I have ever stepped aboard one of the breed. Light cruiser last, and armoured cruisers before that. Left Birmingham under a cloud, sir, as no doubt you know.”
“Vaguely. The court found for you and that is all I wish to know – unless you show useless and then I shall ask when I have you dismissed.”
Canning laughed.
“Short and sweet, sir. I shall work my hardest, sir – I need to expunge the stain on my record.”
“Difficult in this Navy, Canning. Worth trying. Things are a bit different in destroyers. My last premier was given Sheldrake when I left her yesterday – barely six months in as a sub, let alone a full lieutenant! He is to take her to the Med, if he can find his way.”
“Sheldrake… Have you seen the newspapers, sir?”
“Full of it, are they?”
“I gather you single-handedly sank a destroyer and two minelayers, sir. A good trick, that!”
“Hooray for the jolly jack tar!”
“Just that, sir.”
The four sat in the working cabin, barely big enough to hold them. Packer provided tea and shut the door firmly behind him.
“Welcome to Lancelot, gentlemen. She is the Jonah of Harwich, I am told. Men lost overboard and others with their legs or necks broken falling down hatches. Inefficient and her last captain a drunk. It stinks!”
“Beg pardon, sir, but that ain’t the sort of thing destroyer men do, not unless they are green hands who did not ought to be let out on their own at night.”
“I agree, wholly, Mr Westerman. Who and why? Have we a random murderer amusing himself? Or is there some sort of other criminality? I think we can discount spies and saboteurs – they would have better things to do than target a single destroyer.”
Canning and Rees agreed.
“Tobacco, most likely, sir,” Westerman suggested. “Running across to Belgium and picking up cheap shag there and bringing it back by the ton. Needs cooperation to store it aboard – destroyers being small, everybody will see it.”
“A good possibility, Coxswain. If not tobacco, what?”
“Opium, sir? Cocaine is used much in Mayfair as well. Good money there and easier to pick up in France, I am told. I believe all supplies in England are going for medical usage these days, can’t be much diverted onto the civilian market.”
“Didn’t know that, Mr Canning. Less bulky than tobacco, is it not?”
“Far less, sir. Worth more for the ounce when it is made up into morphine or heroin or the powder form for cocaine, which don’t come from opium, I think.”
“It’s not actually illegal, is it, sir?”
“Not to my knowledge, Mr Canning. Can’t be too happy about Lancelot setting up shop selling the stuff, however. Still, drop heroin and cocaine from the possibilities – must be ten thousand use tobacco for every man who would buy the drugs. Any other reason for criminal behaviour?”
“Buggery can be a problem, but not normally on a destroyer – no privacy at all on a boat.”
Westerman agreed.
“Only out for a few days at a time as well. Not like a battleship. Rule that out, sir, generally speaking.”
It was all speculation, they agreed. They would keep their eyes open and talk with the petty officers as they grew to know them. It might take some weeks but in the end an investigation must be successful on a ship with only seventy-three in the crew. They turned to the watches and consideration of training.
“Lewis Guns, Mr Rees. Mounts on the bridge but no guns to be discovered.”
“Packed away in the stores, sir. Nicely greased up and boxed. Previous gunner didn’t like them; new and they looked untidy. I hope to replace them with twins, sir, so I shall leave them in their cases for now. There will be something fitted up by the time we sail, sir. Might be possible to pick up something a little heavier, sir. Never know what may be possible.”
“Such as what, Mr Rees?”
“American, mostly, sir. The Browning company makes automatic weapons in forty-five and fifty calibre, sir and the Navy bought some for evaluation. Might be hanging about in odd places, sir, and I know one or two people…”
Destroyers were to a great extent a law to themselves. Senior authority would normally not intervene while they were successful. Failure of any of their unorthodox equipment resulted in court martial.
“Do what you can, Mr Rees. Have you heard word of aeroplane guns? We have seen the damned things flying near us. Ought to be able to shoot at them on general principles.”