Nothing Ventured

‘If there are no more questions,’ said Jackie, ‘let’s adjourn for lunch. Try and get some kip this afternoon, and make sure you go to the toilet before you get on the bus. The first bus will leave at 4.10 p.m. The second will follow twenty minutes later, so we avoid looking like a convoy.’

‘And once you’re in place,’ said Lamont, ‘don’t forget that silence is our most effective weapon.’

14.08 CET

Monti drove William and Hawksby straight to the commander’s dockside hotel in Civitavecchia, and they all went to the room reserved by Monti on the third floor. The first thing Hawksby did was to check the sight lines from the window. He had a clear view of the port, and wouldn’t need binoculars to keep an eye on the vessel Carter had chartered. Monti had even supplied a copy of the company’s brochure in English, with a photograph of a shipwreck on the cover to tempt potential customers. What it didn’t record was their failure rate over the years. But then the crew were pirates at best, while the customers who chartered the ship were often romantics, chasing a dream. But not on this occasion.

William was about to take a shower, until Monti said, ‘Don’t bother. Try not to forget you’re a deckhand. We don’t want you smelling like a lily.’

Hawksby now understood why the lieutenant hadn’t shaved for some days, and stank of garlic.

Monti opened a large trunk that he’d left in the room earlier and produced outfits for the role they were about to play: two pairs of well-worn jeans; two unmarked T-shirts; two sweaters, one blue, one grey; and two pairs of trainers without a brand logo. Everything looked and was second-hand.

‘Let’s hope I’ve got your size right,’ said Monti, as William began to pull on a pair of jeans.

‘And what about me?’ asked Hawksby.

‘You’ll be just fine, sir,’ said Monti. ‘If you stroll along the dock dressed as you are, everyone will assume you’re the owner of a large yacht, not that you’re keeping a lookout for a couple of villains.’

‘I wish.’

‘We’ll have to leave you now, sir. We should be on board before Carter arrives.’

‘Do I have any back-up should their plans suddenly change?’

‘You’ll only see them if you need them,’ said Monti. ‘But I can assure you this isn’t the only room that we’ve booked.’

‘Chapeau,’ said Hawksby, touching his forehead.

After Monti and William had left, the commander returned to his lookout point and watched the two young officers as they walked along the quayside and boarded the ship before reporting to the chief deckhand. How he wished he was twenty years younger.

13.08 GMT

Lamont and Jackie had joined the team in the canteen for lunch, where the babble of expectant chatter revealed how eager they all were to get on with the job.

At four o’clock, after a final briefing from DS Roycroft, Lamont divided the young officers into two groups, before they began to board the two buses. At the same time, a squad of the special firearms division was setting out from Scotland Yard with orders to contact DCI Lamont the moment they had reached the target.

At eleven minutes past four, the first bus left the car park, drove up the ramp and out onto the high street. It kept a steady pace, always remaining on the inside lane, and never once breaking the speed limit. At 4.33, the second bus manoeuvred its way onto the main thoroughfare, where they were held up by early commuters on their way home from work, while they were on their way to work.

Lamont had been taken by surprise when Superintendent Wall told him that he would be accompanying them on the mission. Lamont accepted that if Wall was hoping to add the prefix chief to his rank, ‘Operation Blue Period’ would look good on his service record. Lamont had to admit, if only to himself, that the thought of promotion had also crossed his mind.

The superintendent, Lamont and Jackie were the last to leave Guildford police station in an unmarked car. By the time they reached the target, both buses were in place, engines idle, with their lights off. Twenty-six men and three women sat and waited in silence.

16.23 CET

After stowing their bags in the sleeping quarters below, the two new itinerant deckhands reported for duty on the main deck.

‘How long will it take to reach the site?’ Monti asked the chief deckhand.

‘It’s about eighty nautical miles away, so a little over eight hours. We’ll be casting off as soon as our customers and the divers come aboard. Meanwhile, you two can help with the loading.’

William and Monti made sure they pulled their weight, loading everything from crates of apples to a new winch, as clearly the skipper wanted to make it look as if they would be at sea for at least seven days.

William only stopped working when a Mercedes drew up alongside the gangway and two men stepped out onto the dockside. He recognized them immediately. A couple of deckhands took their luggage – not a lot, thought William, considering they’d booked the vessel for a week. Grant was still clutching on to the bulky holdall, and made sure the two deckhands didn’t get anywhere near it.

William and Monti remained in the shadows, to avoid coming in contact with the two passengers as they boarded the ship.

‘I can’t imagine much will happen until we reach the salvage site,’ whispered Monti, ‘but it’s still a risk we can’t afford to take. So we’ll have to remain on deck until eight bells.’