Jeffrey Archer - Only Time Will Tell

‘Nothing unusual in that, sir,’ said Haskins, not looking at him. ‘Signin’ on’s what matters, not signin’ off.’

‘If you don’t come and see for yourself,’ said Tancock, ‘you’ll go to your grave with his blood on your hands.’ This outburst silenced even Haskins.

‘Miss Potts, I’m going down to number one dock,’ I said. ‘I shouldn’t be too long.’

The squat little man ran out of my office without another word.

‘Haskins, join me in my car,’ I said. ‘We can discuss what ought to be done on the way.’

‘Nothin’ needs to be done, sir,’ he insisted. ‘It’s all stuff and nonsense.’

It wasn’t until we were alone in the car that I put it bluntly to my ganger. ‘Is there any chance that Clifton really might be sealed up in the hull?’

‘No chance, sir,’ said Haskins firmly. ‘I’m only sorry to be wastin’ your time.’

‘But the man seems pretty certain,’ I said.

‘Like he’s always certain about what’ll win the three thirty at Chepstow.’

I didn’t laugh.

‘Clifton’s shift ended at six,’ Haskins continued, taking on a more serious tone. ‘He must’ve known that the welders would be moving in and would expect to finish the job before the next shift reported for duty at two in the mornin’.’

‘What was Clifton doing down in the hull in the first place?’

‘Making the final checks before the welders got to work.’

‘Is it possible he didn’t realize his shift had ended?’

‘You can hear the end-of-shift horn in the middle of Bristol,’ said Haskins as we drove past Tancock, who was running like a man possessed.

‘Even if you were deep inside the hull?’

‘I suppose it’s just possible he might not have heard it if he was in the double bottom, but I’ve never come across a docker who didn’t know what time his shift ends.’

‘As long as he has a watch,’ I said, looking to see if Haskins was wearing one. He wasn’t. ‘If Clifton really is still down there, do we have the equipment to get him out?’

‘We’ve got enough acetylene torches to burn through the hull and remove a complete section. Problem is, it’d take hours, and if Clifton’s down there, there wouldn’t be much chance of him still bein’ alive by the time we reached him. On top of that, it would take the men another fortnight, perhaps longer, to replace the whole section. And as you keep remindin’ me, guv, you’ve got everyone on bonuses to save time, not waste it.’

The night shift was well into its second hour by the time I brought my car to a halt by the side of the ship. There must have been over a hundred men on board, working flat out, hammering, welding and sealing in the rivets. As I climbed the gangway, I could see Tancock running towards the ship. When he caught up with me a few moments later he had to bend double, his hands on his thighs, while he recovered.

‘So, what do you expect me to do, Tancock?’ I asked once he’d caught his breath.

‘Stop them all workin’, guv, just for a few minutes, then you’ll hear him tappin’.’

I nodded my approval.

Haskins shrugged his shoulders, clearly unable to believe I would even consider giving such an order. It took him several minutes to get everyone to down tools and for the workers to fall silent. Every man on the ship, as well as the dockside, stood still and listened intently, but other than the occasional squawk from a passing gull or a smoker’s cough, I heard nothing.

‘Like I said, sir, it’s been a waste of everyone’s time,’ said Haskins. ‘By now Clifton will be suppin’ his third pint at the Pig and Whistle.’

Someone dropped a hammer, and the sound echoed around the docks. Then for a moment, just a moment, I thought I heard a different sound, regular and soft.

‘That’s him!’ shouted Tancock.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, the noise stopped.

‘Did anyone else hear anything?’ I shouted.

‘I didn’t hear nothin’,’ said Haskins, looking around at the men, almost daring them to defy him.

Some of them stared back at him, while one or two picked up their hammers menacingly, as if they were waiting for someone to lead them over the top.

I felt like a captain who was being given one last chance to quell a mutiny. Either way I couldn’t win. If I told the men to go back to work, the rumours would spread until every man in the dockyard believed I was personally responsible for Clifton’s death. It would be weeks, months, possibly even years before I could recover my authority. But if I gave the order to break open the hull, any hope of making a profit on the contract would be scuppered, and with it my chances of ever becoming chairman of the board. I just stood there, hoping the continued silence would convince the men that Tancock was wrong. As each second of silence passed, my confidence grew.

‘It seems no one heard nothin’, sir,’ Haskins said a few moments later. ‘Can I have your permission to put the men back to work?’

They didn’t move a muscle, just continued to glare defiantly at me. Haskins stared back at them, and one or two eventually lowered their eyes.

I turned to the ganger and gave the order to get back to work. In the moment’s silence that followed, I could have sworn I heard a tap. I glanced at Tancock, but then the sound was drowned out by a thousand other noises as the men went resentfully back to work.

‘Tancock, why don’t you bugger off down the pub and see if your mate’s there,’ said Haskins. ‘And when you find him, give him a tickin’ off for wastin’ everybody’s time.’

‘And if he isn’t,’ I said, ‘call by his house and ask his wife if she’s seen him.’ I realized my mistake the moment I’d spoken, and quickly added, ‘That is, assuming he has a wife.’

‘Yes, guv, he does,’ said Tancock. ‘She’s my sister.’

‘If you still can’t find him, report back to me.’

‘It’ll be too late by then,’ said Tancock as he turned and walked off, his shoulders slumped.

‘I’ll be in my office should you need me, Haskins,’ I said, before walking down the gangway. I drove back to Barrington House, hoping never to see Tancock again.

I returned to my desk, but was unable to concentrate on the letters Miss Potts had left for me to sign. I could still hear that tapping in my head, repeating itself again and again, like a popular melody that plays continually in your mind and even stops you from sleeping. I knew that if Clifton didn’t report for work the next morning, I would never be rid of it.

During the next hour, I began to feel more confident that Tancock must have found his mate and would now be regretting making such a fool of himself.

It was one of the rare occasions when Miss Potts left the office before me, and I was just locking the top drawer of my desk before going home, when I heard footsteps running up the stairs. It could only be one man.

I looked up, and the man I’d hoped never to see again was standing in the doorway, pent-up fury blazing in his eyes.

‘You killed my best mate, you bastard,’ he said, shaking a fist. ‘You may as well have murdered him with your bare hands!’

‘Now, steady on, Tancock, old chap,’ I said. ‘For all we know, Clifton may still be alive.’

‘He’s gone to his grave just so you could finish your bloody job on time. No man will ever sail on that ship once they find out the truth.’

‘Men die in shipbuilding accidents every day,’ I said lamely.

Tancock took a pace towards me. He was so angry that for a moment I thought he was going to hit me, but he just stood there, feet apart, fists clenched, glaring at me. ‘When I’ve told the police what I know, you’ll have to admit you could’ve saved his life with a single word. But because you were only interested in how much money you would make, I’m going to make sure that no man on these docks will ever work for you again.’