“There’s other things than towns. The ships keep fairly near the coast in places, coming up to Sydney.” James got up and walked over to a wall map. He studied it for a while, then he said: “Look here.” Shaw went across. James tapped the map and said, “Wilson’s Promontory, on the southern tip of Victoria. The liners out of Melbourne come in pretty close there, not more than a couple of miles off. That’s where they turn up for Sydney.”
“Yes, I get you,” Shaw murmured, studying the map. “You think Lubin could transmit from there?”
“Well, I don’t see why not. And I don’t think we can rule out Sydney or Melbourne either, whatever your pal Karstad said about towns.” James tapped the map. “Anyhow, I’ll put the security people on to it and we’ll go through Sydney and Melbourne with a toothcomb. We can have monitoring vans standing by to pick up any test transmissions as soon as they’re made. If we don’t find the set we’ll reinforce the route up to Bandagong from here with everything I can persuade the services and the police to let me have. Let’s put this in a nutshell. In my opinion, so far as we can see at the moment, we’ve got to consider Sydney and Melbourne as well as the road to Bandagong — and possibly an attempt to transmit from Wilson’s Promontory, which I admit is a biggish area to cover. The Prom’s not just a little hand-land — you can see that on the map. Anyway, I’d say it’s the only point where the job could be done while the ship’s actually at sea.”
Shaw said, “I think it might be a good idea to off-load REDCAP in Melbourne.”
James shook his head. “The authorities won’t play ball, Shaw, not on that. It’d take too long now to do a full-scale rerouting job, with all that that involves. Anyway, I’ll guarantee to have Melbourne gone through very thoroughly and a check made all the way along the port approaches till the ship’s clear of Port Phillip Bay. And I’ll have some blokes down at Wilson’s Prom, too. Right?”
Shaw nodded. “Now, what about the crowds along the harbour here when the liner enters? I’ve heard about these Sydney welcomes, sir.”
“There’ll be a big crowd all right. Sydney’s going mad over the New South Wales.” James cocked an eye at him. “No danger to them, though?”
“No — I didn’t mean that. I was wondering, if we kept ’em away, wouldn’t it help the security men? Any suspicious character would stand out more without a crowd.”
James pursed his lips. “I don’t think that’d help, no. Anyone who tried to keep the harbour clear on Thursday would be mighty unpopular, and there’d be such a stink that it’d blow a lot of the security — bound to. And this Lubin, I’d say he wouldn’t risk actually trotting about with his set. There’s plenty of houses an’ that, believe me, within two or three miles of the harbour, and he could be using any one of them. Same applies to Melbourne, which is why I don’t take Karstad’s word as gospel.”
“He seemed pretty certain of his facts, sir,” Shaw murmured. He studied the map again. “I believe you could be right on the beam about Wilson’s Promontory, you know.”
“Could be-if we believe Karstad.” James turned away and sat down again. Shaw followed, asked:
“Look, sir — does this business of Tommy Foster link in anywhere, d’you think?”
“That,” James said, “is what I don’t know yet. Course, he was working on this scare after we were alerted by London.”
“Did he get anywhere?”
“No. Not that he told us.”
“Have you had a look round his rooms yet?”
James nodded. “Went along with the police, said I wanted to keep a watching brief for the Navy, you know what I mean? Tommy had a flat out Cremorne way. I’ve brought all his papers and so on along here. Nothing in ’em. You can have a look if you want to, of course.”
“Yes, I’d like to do that.”
James nodded across at Miss Harris. “Dig ’em out, Mary.” She went over to a safe in the wall, swung it open and brought out a small pile of papers. Like the contents of Shaw’s own pockets, it consisted mainly of personal stuff, money and photographs and a few odd private notes of no consequence. There was nothing of any interest whatever. Shaw put the pile together again after he’d gone through it, handed it back to Mary Harris. He said thoughtfully, “I wonder… Do you think I could have a look at the body, sir?”
“Don’t see why not, but what good’ll that do?”
“I’d just like to see if Karstad’s been up to his games again. If the body’s marked like Gresham’s, we’ll know Tommy’s death is directly to do with this REDCAP thing. Karstad would have had plenty of time to get down here by last night, and anything which might lead me back to him again would be a big help.”
“If it saves time, I can get the pathologist’s report.”
“I’d rather see him myself, sir, thanks all the same. I can make a closer comparison that way.”
James nodded briskly. “Right you are, I’ll fix it for you. Anything else?”
“Yes. Could I get into Tommy’s flat? It might help if I could just have a look round.”
James said, “That’s all right, though we had a good checkup and we didn’t find anything, as you saw. But I’ll have a car take you along.”
“No, sir, I’ll go on my own, if you don’t mind. It’d be less conspicuous… there’s just a chance other people might be interested in the flat. I suppose the police aren’t watching it or anything like that?”
“Not now they’ve done their routines on it. They’re satisfied Tommy wasn’t killed there, and I’m afraid I haven’t let on about his security work yet. He’s just a plain naval officer to them and their theory is that he may have been done in in a boozer, you know what I mean?” He added, “As I told you, I only went along to keep an eye on things for the Navy, officially. Our methods aren’t always the same as theirs, and I didn’t want too much police interference, not till you got here anyway.”
“That’s the way I’d like it to stay for a while, sir. Particularly if Bandagong’s out for my blood!” Shaw looked at his watch. “I’ll get right on to the flat now, if you’ll give me the address and the keys.”
“Sixteen, Hawks Street, Cremorne… here.” James reached into a drawer and brought out a street guide. He spread it out and Shaw got up and went round the desk. James traced with his finger. “Over the bridge, and along there… see?”
“Yes.” Shaw memorized the area. James handed him a key from a drawer and said quietly,
“Now, Shaw. The New South Wales is due here at noon on Thursday. Unless the MAPIACCIND Governments change their minds, and that we can’t guarantee, whatever’s going to happen is going to happen pretty soon.” He got to his feet, clapped Shaw on the shoulder. “I’m just doing the routine stuff. You’re the boy who’s going to bring this thing off. I’m leaving it largely to you, because you’ve had far more contact with these blokes and also far more experience than any of us. But call on me for any help you want — and keep in touch. Report back when you’ve seen Tommy’s flat and then I’ll tell you when you can see the body in the mortuary.”
Shaw was very conscious of the fact, as he left James’s office and walked back past the graving dock into Woolloomooloo, that he had nothing to go on; but Tommy Foster had died for some good reason and it was up to him to find out what that reason was. He felt certain it must tie in somewhere.
Shortly after Shaw had left James’s office, a telephone rang in a house in Clontarf and was answered by an elderly Chinese.
The telephone inquired politely, “Dr Tien?”
“Speaking.” Tien’s voice was cultured, urbane.
“This is the unworthy Ling, honoured Dr Tien.” There was an implied obeisance in the tone which was not altogether the automatic obsequiousness of the restaurateur. “I have a message from your brother in Pekin.”