“Yes.” A voice like a sigh, a surrender.
“Tell me about it.”
A very long pause. The old voice gathered strength, as if the memory itself brought sustenance. “I had HMS Loyal. And the pickets—”
“I know all that. Cut that.”
The old faced winced and tears came to his eyes. “I did, I was the flag officer of an attack force. I was!” He paused for breath and shivered. “London ordered me to hunt the Prinz von Homburg. Coming south of Cape Town into the South Atlantic.”
“Why?”
“London wasn’t sure.”
“Why?”
He hesitated, then panted, “It was most secret.”
“Tell me.”
The old man looked to Repin for help, but Repin shook his head. In a flat voice, Pope-Ginna said, “There was an intelligence report she was carrying gold. Millions. There was talk of setting up a Nazi state in Argentina. Oh, God, I’m so cold.”
“You’ll get warm when you finish. Go on.”
There was another, longer pause, but it turned out be the last one. It was as if he had opened a door that had been closed for a generation; now that it was open, he flung it wide.
“The order was very clear: seek out and sink. The Nazis were not to be allowed a refuge anywhere on earth. The Homburg was well south. I knew she would be. They’d tried to track her by air from South Africa but had lost her. Weather. Tried to sink her twice as she came down the coast, but no good. So it was up to me. I sent out aircraft ’round the clock. Took my force out of Port Stanley and headed southeast. My staff said I was mad. Said I was sure to lose her. But I had to take the risk. I’d — botched a job earlier. Done well in my war, but — in forty-three I’d lost some ships I oughtn’t have. So they’d posted me down to the Falklands and the Loyal. She was old. Not much doing down there. Running submarine patrols. It was my chance. See?”
He was telling the story straight to Repin, as if Tarp were not there, and Repin was listening sympathetically. “Yes. You were quite right.”
“So I took my force out. Loyal carried two seaplanes. Launched from catapults; that’s the way we did things then. Land in the water, get picked up by a crane. Gave me some air surveillance, you see? We looked and looked. And we found the Homburg on the eighth day. Incredibly farther south than London thought. Almost in the drift ice. Been hiding there. Sitting, looking for fog banks. Lots of floating ice to confuse radar. Terrible chance the German was taking, but it was the best one. He took a risk, I took a risk. See?
“So I went right after him. It was a chase. Hell of a chase. Loyal was slower but had bigger guns. One of my destroyers got in a hit with a torpedo, damaged his steering, I think. Then it was only a matter of time. We chased her right into the ice. Icebergs, I mean, in among the icebergs. Ice pack.” His voice faded.
“Is that what you mean, Admiral? You’re sure? Just among the icebergs?” Tarp made his voice threatening. “You don’t want to lie to me.”
Pope-Ginna sighed. “Into the ice. He had two icebreakers. I had two. In the drift ice, there are — like rivers, veins of water — you can get a big ship in, but… You can tear the bottom out, too. I lost one destroyer to the ice. Then…”
He looked up at Tarp. He sounded hopeless. “We came out into open water. I’d never heard of such a thing. A sea of open water inside the drift ice. Incredible. You have to believe me. Really, I’m not lying! Really.” He appealed to Repin. “Please believe me.”
“But it never went into your report.”
“No. I — At first, I didn’t want to be thought wrong. It was almost night when we broke through. I sent out a plane. He saw how much open water there was. And he saw the Homburg. That was the big thing. You see, my officers… Many of us believed we’d come out of the drift ice entirely. Got our bearings wrong and come out into open water. See? I was very excited. I knew my career was in balance. So I put on speed to get in range. Got Homburg dead to rights on radar, not much floating ice there — ice behind her, no place to hide. Like a shooting gallery. We pounded her for two hours.” He licked his lips. “Sank her.”
“And lied about her position.”
“I—” He licked his lips again and appealed to Repin. “I didn’t lie. There was confusion. About the location. My navigation officer was sure we were north of the ice, thought he’d made some terrible boner. He said to me, ‘I’ve botched the dead reckoning.’ His very words. Really! ‘You’ll have my bars for it, Admiral, but I’ve made some terrible error.’ His words. Not mine. Didn’t make them up.”
“When did you decide to lie about the position?”
“I didn’t lie. I — exaggerated some errors.”
“How far?”
“About three hundred miles.”
“Because of the gold?”
Pope-Ginna looked at him in anguish. “When the Homburg was going down, I happened to see a sonar report. The depth was not what I expected. It was very uneven there. Volcanic, I think now. And it flashed through my head, ‘That’s submarine depth. Divers could get down there all right.’ And I thought about the gold.”
“How did you plan to get it?”
“I didn’t, I didn’t! I just saw the — possibility. I mean, I had done what I had been ordered. ‘Seek out and sink.’ I’d prevented the Nazis from using that gold to set up a refuge. It was a triumph! Don’t you understand? Nobody cared about the gold then. It was — it was mine! Don’t you see? By any law-salvage, the laws of war — the laws of privateering, the captain’s share… “He sounded addled. “It was mine.” He turned to Repin. “You see that, don’t you?”
“Of course. Of course.”
“I deserved something. The war was as good as over, I knew that. I wouldn’t get another command; there wasn’t time. The big boys would remember I’d made a mistake — meaning that in peacetime I wouldn’t get to the top, not really to the top. You know. I wasn’t one of them — you know? Wrong family, wrong schools. So, I wasn’t going to the top. It’d be a medal and a ‘Thanks, my boy,’ and that would be it. So I deserved the gold.”
“Were there survivors from the Homburg?”
“Yes.” Pope-Ginna sagged again. “Not enough.” His white chest rose and fell quickly with his breathing. “Poor devils. It was awful.”
“Did you examine the survivors?”
“When we got back to port, yes. The usual.”
“Did they know about the gold?”
“No. None of them. We only picked up two officers above the rank of ensign. Both in gunnery. No, the gold was mine.”
He seemed to be wandering off a little. Tarp waited and then said, “Any civilians?”
“Hmm?” It was as if Pope-Ginna had been dreaming in front of a fire.
“Any civilians?”
“One.”
“German?”
“A little Jewish girl.” He blinked rapidly and seemed to come awake. “Is that important?”
“Wasn’t it important to you?”
“She married Jock Schneider. I was very surprised when they told me. It was she made the connection. I was sitting in the bar of the Hurlingham Club, looking out over the golf course — you know — and she was there. She and Jock had been married a while. You know. And she said, ‘You saved my life,’ or something like that. I thought she meant because I’d bought her a drink. And she said, ‘You saved my life. I was on the Homburg.’ It made no sense to me.”