Michael Pearce - A dead man of Barcelona

‘Oh, you may,’ said Seymour. ‘Since we shall be going over to Gibraltar tomorrow ourselves.’

‘You are?’ said Nina’s mother. ‘Perhaps you can come and visit me, then, that would be nice.’

‘It would be very nice,’ said Chantale, who had not known until now that she was going to Gibraltar.

‘I remember you saying,’ said Seymour, ‘when we talked before — or perhaps I heard you talking to the Senora in the hotel? — that you had some calico to dispose of?’

‘Yes,’ said Nina’s mother. ‘She doesn’t want it. Nor do I, really. What am I going to do with calico? You can’t do anything with it, really. Not unless you’re a boat!’

‘Well,’ said Seymour, ‘I might be able to find a use for it. Perhaps we could pick it up from you when we call?’

‘My God, he’s back!’ said a voice in the guardroom.

‘He’s come back especially to get you, Ferry!’ said another younger voice which Seymour immediately recognized.

The midshipman came out.

‘Hello, sir! Nice to see you back with us,’ he said.

‘It’s nice to be back,’ said Seymour.

‘And your lady, too, sir?’

‘In the offing,’ said Seymour.

‘Would she care to join us this evening, sir? And you? In the mess? That would give us all a lot of pleasure.’

‘I’m sure it would. However, there is somewhere else I have to visit first. The stores.’

The midshipman swallowed.

‘The stores. Right, sir.’ He hesitated. ‘This afternoon, perhaps, sir?’

‘Now.’

The midshipman squared his shoulders.

‘Right, sir. Now.’ He raised his voice. ‘Mr Ferry?’

‘Sir?’

The petty officer came hurrying out of the guardroom.

‘Mr Seymour would like to visit the stores. Now.’

‘Now, sir?’

‘Now.’

‘Things are not quite as shipshape as we would wish, sir-’

‘That’s all right.’

‘We could perhaps get things in better order by this afternoon-’

‘Now, please.’

‘Right, sir. Now.’

‘Would you like me to accompany you, sir?’ said the midshipman, loyal to his subordinates and hoping possibly to avert in some way ‘Perhaps I could join you later? In the bar. Oh, and is there any chance, do you think, that Admiral Comber might be there?’

‘I think there’s a very good chance, sir.’

Ferry led Seymour into the stores.

‘What would you like to see, sir?’ he said despondently.

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing?’

‘I just want a private word with you.’

‘Private word? Yes, sir, of course, sir.’ They went into a tiny boarded-off room.

‘Sir?’

‘Ferry,’ said Seymour, ‘how long have you been here?’

‘Been here?’

‘At Gibraltar.’

‘Ten years, sir.’

‘You will remember, then, the switch to oil?’

‘Big thing for us, sir.’

‘But difficult, I understand. Particularly at first. Before the big contract went through.’

‘With Anglo-Persian? That made all the difference, sir. Before that we were really scraping around. “Those bastards-” begging you pardon, sir, but that’s the way the Admiral used to talk, especially when he was referring to the Admiralty — “have got me down to two days’ supplies. More efficient like that, they say. Just in time. That’s the expression they use. But how am I supposed to fight a war on that basis?”

‘ “Christ, sir,” I said, “we’re not going to fight a war, are we?” “Maybe not,” he said, “but I’ve got to be sure we’re in a position to do so. What I need is some bloody oil!” “Why don’t you try Mr Lockhart, sir?” I said. “He’s got good contacts. He’ll be able to find you some if anybody can.” “You think so, Ferry?” he said, going all thoughtful. “Dead certain, sir,” I said. “He’s got contacts all over the place. I know that because — well, I just know that, sir. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you. Mind you, he might have to cut a few corners.” “There are no corners on the sea, Ferry,” he said, giving me a wink. “Don’t you know that? At least, not as far as I am concerned.”

‘Well, maybe not as far as he was concerned. But there were as far as the Admiralty was concerned, and he got hauled over the coals. That was when he used the Language, sir. But he always had time for Mr Lockhart after that. Said he’d got him out of a hole. And the country, too. And that the bastards didn’t deserve it. Begging your pardon, sir.’

‘Why, hello, Seymour! You back? Got your lady with you?’

‘She might be joining us a bit later.’

‘Like a tot?’

‘Christ, is that a tot?’

‘Navy style, Navy style. Here’s to you. And to your inquiries. How are you getting on?’

‘Pretty well there now, sir. Just one or two small points to clear up. The irregular shipments of oil, for example.’

‘Irregular-? Never heard of it!’

‘Before the Anglo-Persian deal.’

‘I’m quite sure I’ve never heard of it.’

‘To Gibraltar. I’m not saying they weren’t needed. And this, actually, does not need to be part of my inquiries, nor of my report.’

‘It doesn’t? Have another one?’ He signalled to the barman. ‘Another one for Mr Seymour, and me. And make them a reasonable size, Edwards. None of this thimble stuff!’

‘I did, though, have a question,’ said Seymour.

‘You did?’ said the Admiral warily.

‘I can see you had to cut corners to get hold of oil. Before the Anglo-Persian deal. There was something dodgy about your arrangements with Lockhart. However, they got you the oil, and that was what counted. For you. But perhaps not for the Admiralty auditors?’

‘Bastards!’ said Admiral.

‘Yes, I’m sure. They usually are. But it put you in a tight spot afterwards from which, fortunately, you escaped.’

‘The devil looks after his own!’ said the Admiral, grinning.

‘I suspect that while the auditors found out some things, they did not find out everything.’

‘That is possible,’ acknowledged the Admiral.

‘And did not that put you in rather a spot with respect to Lockhart?’

‘How so?’

‘Well, he could have revealed what he knew.’

‘Why would he do that? He had been paid. Handsomely.’

‘Ah, but hadn’t he also, in the process, acquired — how shall I put it? — credit that he might, at some point in the future, draw on?’

‘Well, naturally-’

‘Let me put it a bit more sharply, hadn’t he got a bit of a hold on you?’

‘Let’s stick to the word “credit”, shall we?’

‘Or we could say “favours”. He had done you a favour. Might he not reasonably expect a favour back in return?’

‘That would not seem unreasonable.’

‘What was the favour that he asked?’

‘Well…’

‘I think I know, actually. Or can guess.’

‘You probably can, damn you, Seymour!’

‘But you tell me.’

‘Well…’

The Admiral finished his glass and put it down on the bar.

‘What he wanted was a touch of the Nelsons.’

‘Touch of the Nelsons?’

‘A blind eye. To certain shipments.’

‘Of arms?’

The Admiral nodded. ‘There’s a sort of informal agreement among the Big Powers in this neck of the woods that one Power doesn’t ship arms to territories of another Power.’

‘And you breached it?’

‘Not quite. We didn’t do anything ourselves. But we knew it was going on. And I guessed he had a hand in it. I knew it was for those damned Catalans that he was always so keen on. More trouble than they’re worth, in my opinion, though I’ve got a certain respect for them. But I owed him something, so when he came to me — I agreed to a judicious touch of the Nelsons. But, of course, that wasn’t the end of it.’