Алистер Маклин - Santorini

‘Your mother’s brother, of course?’ She nodded. ‘What does she think of him?’

‘She never speaks ill of him. But she never speaks ill of anyone. She’s a wonderful lady, a wonderful mother, not simple or anything like that, just a very trusting person who could never bring herself to speak ill of anyone.’

‘She’s obviously never met Alexander. Your father?’

‘He never speaks of Uncle Adam either, but he doesn’t speak in a very different way, if you follow me. My father is a very straight, very honest man, very clever, head of a big construction company, highly respected by everyone. But he doesn’t speak of my uncle. I’m not as trusting as my mother. I believe my father strongly disapproves of Uncle Adam or whatever businesses he runs. Or both. I don’t believe they’ve talked in years.’ She shrugged and gave a faint smile. ‘Sorry I can’t be of more help. You haven’t learnt anything, have you?’

‘Yes, I have. I’ve learnt I can trust you.’

This time the smile was warm and genuine and friendly. ‘You don’t flatter, you don’t charm and you don’t tell lies. But you are gallant.’

‘Yes,’ Van Gelder said, ‘I believe I am.’

‘Sir John,’ the President said, ‘you have put me in a most damnably awkward position. I speak, you understand, more in sorrow than in anger.’

‘Yes, Mr President. I am aware of that and I’m sorry for it. It is, of course, no consolation for you to know that I am in an equally awkward situation.’ If Sir John Travers, the British Ambassador to the United States, did indeed find himself in such a situation, he showed no signs of it. But then Sir John was renowned throughout the diplomatic world for his savoir-faire, his monolithic calm and his ability to remain wholly unruffled in the most trying and difficult situations, ‘I’m only the messenger boy. Grade one, of course.’

‘Who the hell is this fellow Hawkins, anyway?’ Richard Hollison, deputy head of the FBI, couldn’t quite match Sir John’s tranquil serenity but he had his obvious anger under tight control, ‘I don’t think I care very much for having a foreigner telling the White House, the Pentagon and the FBI how to run their business.’

‘Hawkins is a Vice-Admiral in the British Navy.’ The General was the fourth and only other person in the office. ‘An exceptionally able man. I cannot think of any United States naval officer whom I would sooner have in his place in those nearimpossible circumstances. And I don’t think I need point out that I am in the most awkward situation of all. I don’t want to sound overly possessive but, bloody hell, the Pentagon is my concern.’

‘Richard Hollison,’ Sir John said. ‘I’ve known you for some years now. I know your reputation for toughness is matched only by your reputation for fairness. Be fair in this case. Admiral Hawkins, as the General has just said, is in a position of having to cope with almost impossible circumstances which, as you are in a position to know better than most, involves making almost impossible decisions. He’s not telling anyone how to run their business. In order to get a message to the President, without anyone in the Government or the Pentagon seeing the message before the President, he elected to bypass the Pentagon and all the standard avenues of communication. Certainly the Pentagon knows it’s already under investigation, but Hawkins didn’t want anyone to know that he was pointing fingers in certain directions. If it is your intention to set a cat among the pigeons or let loose an eagle in the dovecote, you don’t send a postcard in advance announcing your intentions.’

‘Yes, I accept that,’ Hollison said. ‘With weary resignation, I accept it. But don’t ask me to like it.’

‘Like it or lump it,’ the President said, ‘I accept it, too.’ He looked unenthusiastically at the paper before him on his desk. ‘It would appear that this Adamantios Andropulos, who is Hawkins’s temporary guest – I could well imagine that Admiral Hawkins would use the term “guest” even if this unfortunate were clapped in irons in some shipboard dungeon – has an account with a Washington bank, name and address supplied, of some eighteen million dollars, and would we kindly make enquiries to see if he has been disbursing any of this of late and, if so, in what direction. I know this lies well within your capabilities, Richard. Point is, how long will it take?’

‘All depends upon how many false names, how many dud companies, how much of the usual laundering paraphernalia is involved. The villain, if there is a villain, might well have a numbered account in outer Mongolia. Unlikely, I admit, but you take my point. One hour, maybe three. We will not stand upon the order of our going. Excuse me, Mr President. Excuse me, gentlemen.’ Hollison left.

‘The Army and the Marines will be pleased to learn – when they do learn of it – that Admiral Hawkins does not consider them worthy of his regard,’ the President went on. ‘Only the Air Force and the Navy. The Air Force I can, in the circumstances, understand. But it would be interesting to know why he has deemed the Navy to be deserving of his interests. He gives no indications on that score.’ The President sighed. ‘Maybe he doesn’t even trust me. Or maybe he knows something that we don’t know.’

Sir John said placidly: ‘If that is the case – that he knows something we don’t – I have little doubt that he’ll tell us in the fullness of time.’

The man under discussion in the White House was, at that moment, dwelling on precisely the same subject.

‘Time’s winged chariot, John. I forget the rest of the quotation but it’s definitely on the wing.’ Leaning back in a comfortable armchair, a glass of frosted lime juice in his hand, Hawkins succeeded only in giving the impression of a man with all the time in the world. ‘So much to do, so little time to do it in. How stands the Ariadne in respect of the rest of this uncaring world?’

‘I think you might say, sir, that the patient is coming along as well as could be expected. Our carpenter is aboard the Angelina, building a cradle for the bomb according to the specifications the Pentagon gave us. There will be two hinged clamps to secure it in even the worst weather which, as you can see for yourself, is the last thing we expect today.’

‘Indeed.’ The Admiral looked through the window of his cabin. ‘The weather is all wrong, John. Considering the possibly apocalyptic and doomladen task we have on hand, the least we could reasonably expect is high winds, torrential rain, thunder, lightning, tempests, tornadoes and all those other adverse weather conditions that King Lear encountered on his walkabout around the blasted heath. But what do we have? A blistering July sun, a cloudless blue sky and the wine-dark seas without even a ripple to show for themselves. Downright disappointing. Also disappointing, not to say extremely disturbing, is the likelihood that if those zero-wind conditions persist, it’ll take the Angelina a week to get even half way towards the horizon.’

‘I don’t think we have to worry about that, sir. Weather conditions in the Cyclades between early July and mid-September are remarkably predictable. It’s already eleven forty-five. Any minute now the Meltemi, the Etesian wind, will start up from the north-west. During the afternoon it reaches Forces 5 or 6, sometimes even 7. Usually dies away in the evening but it has been known to last all night. The Meltemi will be ideally suited for the Angelina. Those luggers, as Denholm said, are hopeless windward sailors but in this case it will be directly astern of them and carry them down towards the Kásos Strait to the east of the easternmost tip of Crete.’