Alistair MacLean Sea Thrillers 4-Book Collection: San Andreas, The Golden Rendezvous, Seawitch, Santorini. Alistair MacLeanЧитать онлайн книгу.
is so.’ Sinclair looked at him without understanding. ‘How on earth do you know that?’
‘Because I’m clever.’ The normally calm and unemotional Bo’sun made no attempt to conceal his bitterness. ‘After the event, I’m very clever.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s no point in you listening to me telling you how clever I haven’t been. I suggest you go – I suggest you all go – and have a look at the recovery room cardiac unit. The unit’s not there any more – it’s in Ward A, by the Sister’s desk. The lid is closed but the lock has been damaged as has the seal. You can wrench the lid open easily enough.’
All six looked at each other, then rose, left and were back within a minute. They sat in silence and remained in silence: they were either stunned by what they had seen or could not find the words to express their emotions.
‘Nice, is it not?’ McKinnon said. ‘A high-powered radio transceiver. Tell me, Dr Sinclair, did Dr Singh ever lock himself up in the recovery room?’
‘I couldn’t say.’ Sinclair shook his head quite violently, as if to clear it of disbelief. ‘May well have done for all anyone would know.’
‘But he did frequently go into that room alone?’
‘Yes. Alone. Quite often. He insisted on looking after the two injured men personally. Perfectly within his rights, of course – he was the man who had operated on them.’
‘Of course. After I’d found the radio – I still don’t know what made me open up that damned cardiac unit – I examined the lock, the keyhole part that Mr Jamieson had burnt away with his torch, and the latch. Both were heavily oiled. When Dr Singh turned that key you would have heard no sound of metal against metal or even the faintest click, not even if you were listening outside a couple of feet away – not that anyone could have had any conceivable reason for lurking outside a couple of feet away. After locking the door and checking that his two patients were under sedation – and if they weren’t he would make sure they very quickly were – he could use his radio to his heart’s content. Not, I should imagine, that he used it very often: the primary purpose, the essential purpose, of the radio was that it kept on sending out a continual homing location signal.’
‘I still can’t understand it or bring myself to believe it.’ Patterson spoke slowly, a man still trying to struggle free of a trance. ‘Of course it’s true, it has to be true, but that doesn’t make it any more credible. He was such a good man, such a kind man – and a fine doctor, was he not, Dr Sinclair?’
‘He was an excellent doctor. No question. And a brilliant surgeon.’
‘So was Dr Crippen for all I know,’ McKinnon said. ‘I find it as baffling as you do, Mr Patterson. I have no idea what his motives could have been and I should imagine that we’ll never find out. He was a very clever man, a very careful man who never took a chance, a man who totally covered his tracks – if it weren’t for a trigger-happy U-boat gun crew we’d never have found out who Flannelfoot was. His treachery may have had something to do with his background – although he spoke of Pakistani descent he was, of course, an Indian, and I believe that educated Indians have little reason to love the British Raj. May have had something to do with religion, if he had Pakistani roots he was probably a Muslim. The connection – I have no idea. There are a dozen other reasons apart from nationality and politics and religion that make a man a traitor. Where did those cardiac arrest units come from, Dr Sinclair?’
‘They were loaded aboard at Halifax, Nova Scotia.’
‘I know that. But do you know where they came from?’
‘I have no idea. Does it matter?’
‘It could. Point is, we don’t know whether Dr Singh installed the radio transceiver after the unit came aboard or whether the unit was supplied with the transceiver already installed. I would take long odds that the transceiver had already been installed. Very tricky thing to do aboard a boat. Difficult to smuggle the transceiver aboard, equally difficult to get rid of the cardiac unit that was inside the box.’
Sinclair said: ‘When I said I didn’t know where that unit came from, that’s quite true. But I know the country of origin. Britain.’
‘How can you tell?’
‘Stencil marks.’
‘Would there be many firms in Britain that make those things?’
‘Again, no idea. Not a question that comes up. A cardiac unit is a cardiac unit. Very few, I should imagine.’
‘Should be easy enough to trace the source – and I don’t for a moment imagine that the unit left the factory already equipped with the transceiver.’ He looked at Patterson. ‘Naval Intelligence should be very interested in finding out what route that cardiac unit took between the factory and the San Andreas and what stopovers it made en route.’
‘They should indeed. And it should take them no time at all to find out where it changed hands and who made the switch. Seems damned careless of our saboteur friends to have left themselves so wide open.’
‘Not really, sir. They simply never expected to be found out.’
‘I suppose. Tell me, Bo’sun, why did you take so long in getting around to telling us about Dr Singh?’
‘Because I had the same reaction as you – I had to work damned hard to convince myself of the evidence of my own eyes. Besides, you all held Dr Singh in very high regard – no one likes to be the bearer of bad news.’ He looked at Jamieson. ‘How long would it take, sir, to fix up a push button on Sister’s desk in Ward A so that it would ring a buzzer in, say, here, the bridge and the engine-room?’
‘No time at all.’ Jamieson paused briefly. ‘I know you must have an excellent reason for this – what shall we call it? – alarm system. May we know what it is?’
‘Of course – so that the sister or nurse in charge of Ward A can let us know if any unauthorized person comes into the ward. That unauthorized person will be in the same state of ignorance as we are at the moment – he will not know whether that transceiver is in working order or not. He has to assume that it is, he has to assume that we may be in a position to send out an SOS to the Royal Navy. It’s obviously all-important to the Germans that such a signal be not sent and that we remain alone and unprotected. They want us and they want us alive so the intruder will do everything in his power to destroy the set.’
‘Wait a minute, wait a minute,’ Patterson said. ‘Intruder? Unauthorized person? What unauthorized person. Dr Singh is dead.’
‘I’ve no idea who he is. All that I’m certain of is that he exists. You may remember that I said earlier that I thought we had more than one Flannelfoot aboard. Now I’m certain. Dr Sinclair, during the entire hour before Lieutenant Ulbricht and his Focke-Wulf made their appearance – and indeed for some time afterwards – you and Dr Singh were operating on the two wounded sailors – now the two dead sailors – from the Argos. That is correct?’
‘That’s so.’ Sinclair looked and sounded puzzled.
‘Did he leave the surgery at any time?’
‘Not once.’
‘And it was during this period that some unknown was busy tinkering with junction boxes and fuses. So, Flannelfoot number two.’
There was a brief silence, then Jamieson said: ‘We’re not very bright, are we? Of course you’re right. We should have worked that out for ourselves.’
‘You would have. Finding Dr Singh’s dead body and then finding out what he was is enough to put any other thought out of your mind. It’s only just now occurred to me. More time to get over the shock, I suppose.’
‘Objection,’ Patterson said. ‘Query, rather. If that set is smashed the Germans have no means of tracking us.’
‘They’re not tracking us now,’ McKinnon said patiently. ‘Battery leads are