Десмонд Бэгли - The Spoilers

Then the work began on the torpedo itself. Abbot was astonished at the complexity of it and his respect for Parker increased. Any man who could master such a complicated instrument and treat it with the casual insouciance that Parker did was worthy of a great deal of respect.

They took out the lead-acid batteries — fifty-two of them — and piled them in a corner of the shed. ‘I’ll be needin’ those to test the motor later,’ said Parker. ‘There’s no point in usin’ the expensive ones. But then they’d better be taken out to sea an’ dumped. Any naval man who caught sight o’ those would know what they are, an’ that might give the game away.’

Eastman made a note of it and Abbot privately thought that Parker was entering into the spirit of things a little too wholeheartedly. He said as much when they were alone and Parker grinned. ‘We have to make it look good, don’t we? Every little helps. Eastman is gettin’ quite matey an’ that could be useful.’ Abbot had to agree.

Parker took out the motor for cleaning. ‘It’s in good nick,’ he said, and stroked it almost lovingly. ‘A beautiful job. Ninety-eight horsepower an’ only that big. A really lovely bit of work an’ designed to be blown to hell.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a bloody funny world we live in.’

He stripped the torpedo meticulously while Abbot did the fetching and carrying and the cleaning of the less important pieces. He demanded — and got — special oils and greases to pack the glands, and expensive wiring for his redesigned circuits, while his new mercury batteries cost a small fortune in themselves. He preached like an evangelist, and the word he preached was ‘perfection.’ ‘Nothing is too good,’ he proclaimed flatly. ‘This is goin’ to be the best torpedo that ever took water.’

And it was very likely so. No service torpedo ever had such undivided and loving attention, and Abbot came to the conelusion that only a prototype fussed over by nervous boffins prior to service tests could be compared with this lone torpedo.

Eastman got the point very early in the game under Parker’s needling attitude. He saw that Parker was really putting up a magnificent effort and he co-operated wholeheartedly to give him everything he needed. And that was not really to be wondered at thought Abbot, when you considered that riding in the warhead would be dope worth $25,000,000.

Parker spent most time on the guidance system, clucking over it like a mother hen over an errant chick. ‘If this thing packs in you’ve lost the lot,’ he said to Eastman.

‘It had better not,’ said Eastman grimly.

‘It won’t,’ said Parker in a steady voice.

‘What does it do?’

‘It keeps her running straight — come what may,’ said Parker. ‘When I quoted you a figure for accuracy o’ three inches in a hundred yards I was allowin’ meself a bit o’ leeway. In the hands of a good mechanic a Mark XI is damned near as accurate as a rifle bullet — say, an inch in a hundred yards. O’ course, the ordinary Mark XI has a short range, so even at maximum the point o’ strike wouldn’t be more than six feet out if she ran well. But this beauty has to run a hell of a long way so I’m aimin’ to beat the record. I’m tryin’ for a half-inch error in a hundred yards. It’s damn’ near impossible but I’m tryin’ for it.’

Eastman went away very happy.

‘You’re putting in a lot of time and sweat on something that’s going to be sabotaged,’ observed Abbot.

Parker shrugged. ‘Every torpedoman gets that feelin’ from time to time. You take a lovely bit o’ mechanism like this an’ you work on it to get a performance that even the designer didn’t dream of. Then you slam it against the side of a ship an’ blow it to smithereens. That’s sabotage of a kind, isn’t it?’

‘I suppose it is if you look at it that way. But it’s what torpedoes are for.’

Parker nodded. ‘I know this one is goin’ to be sabotaged in the end but we still have sea trials to come an’ she’s got to work.’ He looked at Abbot and said seriously, ‘You know, I haven’t been so bloody happy for a long time. I came out o’ the Navy an’ got a job tinkerin’ wi’ other folk’s cars an’ all the time I missed somethin’, an’ I didn’t know what it was.’ He waved at the stripped-down torpedo. ‘Now I know — I missed these beauties.’

‘Don’t get too carried away,’ advised Abbot. ‘Remember that when it comes to the final push this thing must fail.’

‘It’ll fail,’ said Parker glumly. His face tightened. ‘But it’s goin’ to have one bloody good run first.’ He tapped Abbot on the chest. ‘If you think this thing is easy, Mike, you’re dead wrong. I’m working on the edge o’ the impossible all the time. A Mark XI was never designed to go fifteen miles an’ to get it to travel the distance is goin’ to be tricky. But I’ll do it an’ I’ll enjoy doin’ it because this is the last chance I’ll ever have of handlin’ a torpedo. Now, let’s get down to it.’

Every two bits of metal that could be separated were taken apart, scrutinized carefully and put back together with meticulous care. Piece by piece the whole torpedo was reassembled until the time came when it was clamped down for a bench test and Abbot saw the reason for the clamps. Even running at a quarter power it was evident that it would have run wild in the shed had it not been secured.

Parker professed satisfaction and said to Eastman, ‘What about the tube? I’ve done all I can wi’ the fish.’

‘Okay,’ said Eastman. ‘Come with me.’

He took them a little way up the coast to a small shipyard, and pointed to a worn-out coaster of about 3,000 tons. ‘That’s the ship — the Orestes; Greek-owned and registered in Panama.’

Parker looked at her dubiously. ‘Are you goin’ to cross the Atlantic in that?’

‘I am — and so are you,’ said Eastman. ‘She’s done it before and she can do it again; she only has to do it once more and then she’ll be lost at sea.’ He smiled. ‘She’s underinsured and we’re not even going to press too hard for that — we don’t want anybody getting too nosy about what happened to her. If you’re going to install an underwater tube you’ll have to cut a hole in the hull. How are you going to do that?’

‘Let’s have a closer look,’ said Parker, so they went aboard. He spent a lot of time below, up in the bows, then he made a sketch. ‘We’ll make a coffer dam. Get that made up and have it welded to the outside of the hull as marked, then I can cut a hole from the inside an’ install the tube. Once that’s done the thing can be ripped off. You’ll have to find a diver who can keep his mouth shut — it isn’t a normal shipyard job.’

Eastman grinned. ‘We own the shipyard,’ he said softly.

So Parker installed the launching-tube which took another week. He spent a great deal of time measuring and aligned the tube exactly fore and aft. ‘All you have to do is to point the ship accurately,’ he said. ‘That’s it — we’re ready for trials.’

Jeanette Delorme had not been around for some time, and it worried Abbot because he wanted to have her under his eye. As it was, he and Parker were virtually prisoners and cut off from the rest of the organization. He did not know what Warren was doing, nor could he contact Hellier to tell him what was happening. With such a breakdown of communications things could go very wrong.

He said to Eastman, ‘Your boss doesn’t seem to be taking much interest. I haven’t seen her around since that first night.’

‘She doesn’t mix with the working slobs,’ said Eastman. ‘I do the overseeing.’ He fixed Abbot with a sardonic eye. ‘Remember what I told you about her. I’d steer clear if I were you.’