“But the florist could just have made a mistake.”
“Let’s hope so,” Harry said as he began to walk toward the door. “But it’s not a risk we can afford to take.”
“Where are you going?” asked Emma as she picked up the phone.
“To wake Giles. He has more experience with explosives than I do. He spent two years of his life planting them at the feet of advancing Germans.”
When Harry stepped into the corridor he was distracted by the sight of an elderly man disappearing in the direction of the grand staircase. He was moving far too quickly for an old man, Harry thought. He knocked firmly on Giles’s cabin door, but it took a second demanding bang with his clenched fist before a sleepy voice said, “Who’s that?”
“Harry.”
The urgency in his voice caused Giles to jump out of bed and open the door immediately. “What’s the problem?”
“Come with me,” said Harry without explanation.
Giles pulled on his dressing gown and followed his brother-in-law down the corridor and into the stateroom.
“Good morning, sis,” he said to Emma, as Harry handed him the card and said, “HRH.”
“Got it,” said Giles after studying the card. “The Queen Mother couldn’t have sent the flowers. But if she didn’t, then who did?” He bent down and took a closer look at the vase. “Whoever it was could have packed an awful lot of Semtex in there.”
“Or a couple of pints of water,” said Emma. “Are you sure you’re not both worrying about nothing?”
“If it’s water, why are the flowers already wilting?” asked Giles as Captain Turnbull knocked on the door before walking into the cabin.
“You asked to see me, chairman?”
Emma began to explain why her husband and her brother were both on their knees.
“There are four SAS officers on board,” said the captain, interrupting the chairman. “One of them ought to be able to answer any questions Mr. Clifton might have.”
“I presume it’s no coincidence that they’re on board,” said Giles. “I can’t believe they all decided to take a holiday in New York at the same time.”
“They’re on board at the request of the cabinet secretary,” replied the captain. “But Sir Alan Redmayne assured me it was just a precautionary measure.”
“As usual, that man knows something we don’t,” said Harry.
“Then perhaps it’s time to find out what it is.”
The captain stepped out of the cabin and made his way quickly down the corridor, stopping only when he reached cabin 119. Colonel Scott-Hopkins responded to the knock on the door far more quickly than Giles had done a few minutes earlier.
“Do you have a bomb-disposal expert in your team?”
“Sergeant Roberts. He was with the bomb squad in Palestine.”
“I need him now, in the chairman’s stateroom.”
The colonel wasted no time asking why. He ran along the corridor and out onto the grand staircase to find Captain Hartley charging toward him.
“I’ve just spotted Liam Doherty coming out of the lavatory in the first-class lounge.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. He went in as a peer of the realm, and came out twenty minutes later as Liam Doherty. He then headed down to cabin class.”
“That may explain everything,” said Scott-Hopkins as he continued down the staircase with Hartley only a pace behind. “What’s Roberts’s cabin number?” he asked on the run.
“Seven four two,” said Hartley as they hurdled across the red chain onto the narrower staircase. They didn’t stop until they reached deck seven, where Corporal Crann stepped out of the shadows.