It was dawn before he closed his eyes.
In the communications room at SIFAR, radar was tracking the Halcyon. Colonel Cesar turned to Colonel Johnson, and said, “Too bad we couldn’t intercept him at Elba, but we’ve got him now! We have a cruiser standing by. We’re just waiting word from the Halcyon to board her.”
Day Twenty-One
Early in the morning Robert was on deck, looking out over the calm sea. Captain Simpson approached him. “Good morning. It looks like the weather is going to hold, Mr Smith.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll be in Marseilles by three o’clock. Will we be staying there long?”
“I don’t know,” Robert said pleasantly. “We’ll see.”
“Yes, sir.”
Robert watched Simpson stride off. What was there about the man?
Robert walked back to the stern of the yacht and scanned the horizon. He could see nothing, and yet … In the past, his instincts had saved his life more than once. He had long ago learned to rely on them. Something was wrong.
Over the horizon out of sight, the Italian Navy cruiser Stromboli was stalking the Halcyon.
When Susan appeared for breakfast, she looked pale and drawn.
“Did you sleep well, darling?” Monte asked.
“Fine,” Susan said.
So they didn’t share the same cabin! Robert felt an unreasonable sense of pleasure from that knowledge. He and Susan had always slept in the same bed, her naked, nubile body spooning into his. Jesus, I’ve got to stop thinking like this.
Ahead of the Halcyon, on the starboard bow, was a fishing boat from the Marseilles fleet, bringing in a fresh catch.
“Would you like some fish for lunch?” Susan asked.
Both men nodded. “Fine.”
They were almost abreast of the fishing boat.
As Captain Simpson walked by, Robert asked, “What is our ETA to Marseilles?”
“We’ll be there in two hours, Mr Smith. Marseilles is an interesting port. Have you ever been there?”
“It is an interesting port,” Robert said.
In the communications room, at SIFAR, the two colonels were reading the message that had just come in from the Halcyon. It read simply: “Now.”
“What’s the Halcyon’s position?” barked Colonel Cesar.
“They’re two hours out of Marseilles, heading for the port.”
“Order the Stromboli to overtake and board her immediately.”
Thirty minutes later, the Italian Navy cruiser Stromboli was closing in on the Halcyon. Susan and Monte were at the fantail of the yacht, watching the warship racing toward them.
A voice came over the cruiser’s loudspeaker. “Ahoy, Halcyon. Heave to. We’re coming aboard.”
Susan and Monte exchanged a look. Captain Simpson came hurrying toward them.
“Mr Banks …”
“I heard it. Do as they say. Stop the engines.”
“Yes, sir.”
A minute later, the pulse of the engines stopped, and the yacht lay still in the water. Susan and her husband watched as armed sailors from the Navy cruiser were lowered into a dinghy.
Ten minutes later a dozen sailors were swarming up the ladder of the Halcyon.
The naval officer in charge, a lieutenant commander, said, “I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Banks. The Italian government has reason to believe that you are harbouring a fugitive. We have orders to search your ship.”
Susan stood there watching, as the sailors started spreading out, moving along the deck and going below to search the cabins.
“Don’t say anything.”
“But …”
“Not a word.”
They stood on the deck in silence, watching the search go on.
Thirty minutes later they were assembled again on the main deck.
“There’s no sign of him, Commander,” a sailor reported.
“You’re certain of that?”
“Absolutely, sir. There are no passengers aboard, and we have identified each member of the crew.”
The Commander stood there a moment, frustrated. His superiors had made a serious mistake.
He turned to Monte and Susan and Captain Simpson. “I owe you an apology,” he said. “I’m terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you. We’ll leave now.” He turned to go.
“Commander …”
“Yes?”
“The man you’re looking for got away on a fishing boat half an hour ago. You should have no trouble picking him up.”