Von Steiger made up his mind. ‘Pass the word for Lieutenant Kohler! My compliments to Lieutenant Dehler, and tell him I wish to have both whaleboats ready for lowering.’ The messengers scurried from the bridge, and he turned to Heuss, who was watching him from the shadowed chart-space. ‘We shall board her and find out if she has any coal in her bunkers.’

  ‘Is that wise, sir? She looks very low in the water and has a bad list.’

  ‘It is necessary. That ship has managed to get this far, so I imagine she might stay afloat a little longer.’ He frowned. Why should I try to justify myself to him? Is it because I feel guilty in some way? He thrust the idea from his mind as Kohler appeared at his side.

  ‘You sent for me, Captain?’ His handsome face was tense.

  ‘Take two boats and a boarding party. Twelve seamen and three stokers. In addition, I want the Second Engineer to go with you and two petty officers. Search that ship from end to end! First, I want any coal that you may find, and then food, if there is any.’

  Kohler looked across at the rusty ship, his eyes doubtful.

  ‘Furthermore, you yourself can try to find any information which might be of use. Newspapers, old logbooks, anything—understand?’

  Kohler saluted. ‘At once, Captain! I shall attend to it immediately!’

  Von Steiger walked on to the open wing of the bridge, conscious of the sun’s warmth reflected from the sea. It was a poor wreck to scavenge from, but it was better than nothing. Now that they were closer together, he could see the blackened stains on her bridge where she had also been damaged by shell-fire. In spite of himself he cursed his fellow Germans of the submarine service. They had probably torpedoed this ship and then fired on her as the crew tried to abandon her. He sighed. It was a race of self-destruction.

  Lieutenant Kohler sat stiffly in the sternsheets of the whaleboat as it was lowered briskly into the water, aware of von Steiger’s eyes and the important duty he had to perform.

  As the boat was unhooked from the falls and started to move away from the Vulkan’s tall side, Kohler looked quickly at his companion and wrinkled his fine nostrils with distaste. Anton Schuman, the Second Engineer, seemed to stink of his trade, and his young face shaded by the peak of a greasy cap, was pasty-looking, as if starved of fresh air and sunlight. The pores of his skin were starkly ingrained with coal and oil, so that it looked like a mass of blackheads. In spite of his appearance, however, he was cheerful enough and peered with interest at the listing ship ahead.

  ‘By God, she has taken a pasting, Paul! There will not be too much left to salvage!’

  Kohler flinched at the free use of his Christian name by this inferior creature. But they were too close to the men for comment. He would put him in his place later. He contented himself with a non-committal grunt.

  They scraped alongside, and in the deep rhythmic swell the whale-boat bowed and dipped easily near the dangling falls and a worn rope ladder. Kohler noticed that the ladder and falls were slime-covered near the water, and wondered just how long the ship had sailed alone. He dismissed these thoughts and clambered over the gunwale of the boat and seized the ladder. He climbed carefully, aware that the other whaleboat was also hooking on below him, and conscious, too, of the Vulkan as it rode comfortably on the green water.

  The decks were a shambles. Blasted planking. pieces of unidentifiable metal plating and pathetic bundles of clothing and personal belongings which the crew had dropped in their mad scramble for the boats.

  The boarding party jostled into line on the broken deck, their tired faces curious and hopeful, while the two whaleboats shoved off, as ordered, and idled nearby awaiting fresh instructions.

  ‘Do you know what you have to do?’ Kohler looked at his companion. Why did they allow these fellows to be called officers? he wondered.

  ‘Yes. I shall take my petty officer and the three stokers and see what can be done about coal. It will not take long, I think.’

  Kohler waited until they had vanished through a twisted hatchway, their lamps switched on in readiness, then turned to Petty Officer Elmke. He was gasping painfully after the climb up the ladder, and his piggy face was streaming with sweat.

  ‘Split your men into pairs. Three pairs to cover the accommodation aft and three pairs below. Watch all of them, and don’t let them wander off and get lost. If I get an order to abandon ship, I shall not wait.’

  Schiller found himself with Hahn, and together they climbed up the rust-flaked ladder behind the bridge and into the small group of cabins. The ship had been a small freighter, and all the accommodation was huddled together behind the main superstructure, and below the thin funnel which leaned so drunkenly against its broken stays.

  Schiller kicked open the first door and sniffed dubiously at the mildewed air.

  Hahn passed him quickly, his eyes darting round the wrecked cabin. He jerked open drawers, searching their contents with deft, practised hands, and scowled when he found only damp clothing or sodden bundles of old letters. He glared at Schiller, who was watching him with amusement. ‘Christ, there must be something? It’s a British ship, so they must have some loot aboard?’

  Schiller kicked a broken chair across the cabin with sudden anger. ‘I wonder if there’s any drink about?’

  Hahn’s ferret face eased. Of course, that would be the answer. If this fool had a drink under his belt he would be content. It would leave him in safety to find more valuable things. Already, without the big seaman being aware of it, Hahn had pocketed a small clock in a leather case and a pair of cuff-links which looked quite good.

  ‘I will find you some, Gustav!’ He strutted to the next cabin, marked ‘Chief Officer’, and rummaged about in a large chest of drawers which had been torn from its lashings by the torpedo’s explosion. Hidden beneath a pile of shirts he found two bottles. One of whisky and one of gin. He showed them to Schiller, who smacked his lips.

  ‘Ah! Now that is more like it!’ He took them in his big hands and looked from one to the other. ‘God reward the fine fellows who design our torpedoes! They can destroy a ship but preserve the drink!’ He forgot Hahn and sat comfortably on the edge of the bunk.

  Hahn watched him carefully and waited until he had drawn a cork with his teeth, and then he began to search in earnest.

  Gottlieb and Erhard reached the small boatdeck and made their way along the slime-covered catwalk which connected it to the bridge. They stared down at a yawning crater where the torpedo’s blast had blown away the upper deck and left the broken deck-beams protruding like black teeth. Far below them they could see the glint of trapped, uneasy water.

  ‘Christ, that’s a big one!’ Gottlieb stood and mopped his face.

  Erhard sighed wearily. ‘Don’t blaspheme! You’ll pay for it if you do!’

  ‘Sorry!’ He chuckled and rattled the big sack in his hands. ‘Two tins of beef and a bottle of vinegar! Not much of a haul so far, eh?’

  Erhard frowned. ‘To think we should do this sort of thing! Like scavenging dogs in the back alley! Still, let’s go and look at the bridge.’

  They moved cautiously into the wide bridge, their feet scraping noisily on the slanting deck. Gottlieb gave a little squeak and gripped his companion by the sleeve. ‘Look at that!’

  An officer stood propped against the engine-room telegraph, his hands gripping the brass handle as if making a final effort to obtain more speed. His alien uniform was covered with patches of pale-blue mildew, and his hands were more like claws as the bare bones burst through the parchment-like skin to grip the handle better. But his face. Without eyes, and with little skin, it was terrifying enough, but the large yellow teeth bared in a huge grin made Erhard cross himself and mutter beneath his breath.

  Gottlieb laughed shakily. ‘Nice welcome to get! Scared the daylight out of me!’

  He walked slowly round the officer and then stooped to pick up a cap from the deck. He dusted it against his fat leg and placed it carefully on the corpse’s head. ‘That’s more like it!’ Regaining his nerve, he saluted. ‘An officer should always be an example to his men!’

  Lieutenant Kohler had found the captain’s quarters below the wheelhouse and was leafing through some papers in the old varnished desk. As he searched, his ear listened to the noises made by his men as they groped through the ship or piled their prizes on the upper deck. The whaleboats were passing back and forth to the Vulkan with their scanty finds, and even the big dory had been lowered to assist with the work. Tinned food, two barrels of rum and a case of rancid butter had already gone over. In addition, some twenty sacks of small coal had been found in the ship’s galley and had been speedily lowered into a waiting boat. Enough for an hour’s steaming? He wondered how long they could go on like this. Surely a better plan should have been envisaged by the High Command?

  He sat back in the swivel chair and glared at the useless mass of papers. He tried to concentrate on his duties, but all the time he kept seeing Pieck’s face and feeling the pain of loss and frustration. He had approached him twice in two days, but the boy had said nothing, just shaken his head as if something greater was frightening him. Perhaps someone else had got hold of him? He dismissed the idea instantly. It must be something else which was making him more afraid than he was of him.

  The ship gave a lurch and Kohler jumped to his feet with alarm, but it stopped just as quickly, and he walked nervously into the narrow passageway which led to the other cabins.

  Another small sound reached his ear. The chink of metal. He was instantly alert, and creeping on his toes he moved carefully towards a cabin which was partly hidden by a tattered curtain. He halted outside, his ear close against the flaked door. A drawer opened and shut, and he heard a man curse quietly.

  As the door crashed open under Kohler’s foot, Hahn fell back on his haunches, his startled face wide with surprise and then terror.

  ‘Stand up!’ All Kohler’s gnawing anxiety of the past few days swept through him like a sheet of flame. ‘Drop those things on the deck!’

  Hahn opened his nerveless fingers and allowed a bright silver tankard and a cigarette case to fall on the carpet.

  Kohler sighed. This would help him to ease his taut nerves. He slipped his hand slowly into his long holster, enjoying the agony in the seaman’s eyes as he followed the movement. In the dim light of the cabin the Luger gleamed every bit as brightly as the silver tankard.

  He spoke softly. ‘You swine! It was wrong to bring your sort aboard. Germany has need of strong, dedicated men, not the sweepings of a gaol! You took your own way, as a filthy pig like you would!’ The safety-catch clicked with the sound of a giant gong in Hahn’s ears. ‘So now you must pay for your greed!’

  In spite of the discipline which had held him rigid watching the gun and the mad light in Kohler’s eyes, Hahn’s legs buckled and he fell on his knees. ‘Please, Lieutenant! Don’t shoot me! Oh God, have mercy on me! Please give me a chance!’

  ‘You have half a minute!’ He gestured with the pistol towards the laughing sunlight which played across the deckhead. ‘Prayers, perhaps? What does a swine like you do when death is near?’ His thin lips quivered in a smile.

  Hahn heard himself babbling and sobbing, his vision distorted by the tears of fear which poured from his eyes. He knew that Kohler would shoot, and would enjoy it. A sudden idea came to him. It would give him time. That was all he wanted.

  ‘Lieutenant Kohler! Just listen, please! I can help you! Seaman Pieck, sir!’

  Kohler stiffened, his finger hard against the trigger. ‘What about him?’

  ‘I know what he has done, sir! He was there when Petty Officer Brandt was killed, sir!’

  Kohler took a pace forward. He was lying. He must be. And yet why should he, on the point of death? ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I heard him talking about it, Lieutenant! Brandt had found out about you and him, sir, so they killed him!’

  ‘They? Who was the other man?’

  ‘Alder, sir. But he is mad. He won’t tell!’ Some of the old craftiness came back to his eyes. ‘They thought I was asleep, sir. But I heard them.

  ‘You are lying!’ The pistol lifted a little. ‘Why should I believe you?’ As he half listened to Hahn’s whimpering reply his brain was working at full speed. Of course, that was it. Brandt had been suspicious of him and Pieck, and resented it, too. So Alder had killed him and somehow they had got rid of the body. His throat went dry as he thought of Pieck carrying such terrifying knowledge with him. And this dirty little thief knew all about him! About those visits Pieck had made to his cabin during the night watches.

  He breathed in deeply, and Hahn saw the gun waver. He got slowly to his feet, conscious of a great weight being lifted from his shoulders. He had been wise to save that piece of information. Ever since he had learned of Brandt’s death and Pieck’s ordeal in the ice-room he had wondered how best to use it. He had never dreamed it would save his life.

  Kohler nodded gravely. ‘I believe you. I am glad you told me.’ He gestured with the gun. ‘Pull up your jumper.’

  Mystified, Hahn dragged out the bottom of his serge jumper, conscious of the damp air cool across his stomach. He controlled the elation which had followed his terror, and felt the mad desire to laugh in the Lieutenant’s face. Perhaps he fancies me?

  Kohler looked with distaste at the man’s scrawny stomach-muscles and grubby skin. Gently he placed the muzzle of the Luger against his navel and squeezed the trigger.

  * * * * *

  Anton Schuman waited impatiently as the seaman at his side signalled with his semaphor flags to the Vulkan. Behind him most of the boarding party had drawn up in small squad, their faces grim and resentful. Petty Officer Elmke was shouting at them to get ready to leave, and already one of the boats was hooking on the the loose falls.

  Schuman jumped as his own petty officer, a gaunt engine-room man called Heinemann, touched his sleeve. ‘Have they replied yet, sir?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve told them about the coal in the bunkers. That torpedo made such a great gash in the hull that only one bunker is clear of water. If we remove the coal, the weight of water in the other side will pull her over. I don’t know what’s holding her up now!’ They both watched the man with flags, his lips moving soundlessly as he spelled out his signal.

  Heinemann said quietly, ‘Is it true that a man has been shot?’

  ‘Yes. Lieutenant Kohler found him looting and the man went for him. The Lieutenant shot him in self-defence!’ Their eyes met, and Heinemann saw the raw disbelief in his officer’s face.

  ‘The men are a bit on edge, sir.’

  As he spoke there was a great bellow of laughter from the boatdeck, and Schiller loomed unsteadily into view. His face was flushed, and he seemed to have difficulty in walking.

  Petty Officer Elmke scowled and moved towards him, his mouth twisted into a mask of anger. ‘Come here, that man! By God, I can see what you have been doing!’

  Schiller threw back his head and sang, ‘I knew a girl in Singapore, she was the fairest of them all!’ His unmelodious voice echoed along the broken deck and rang around the silent wreck of a ship.

  Schumann crossed quickly in front of Elmke and stood looking up at the great seaman. ‘Right, Schiller, that will do! Fall in with the others, will you?’

  Schiller beamed at him. ‘Say please!’

  Elmke sucked in his cheeks and looked to see if Kohler was coming. But Schuman, although young, was used to drunken stokers, and had learned that brutality was not the only way to control a man.

  ‘If I say please, will you let me have a drop of whatever you’ve found when we get aboard the Vulkan?’

  Schiller nodded gravely. ‘You are a good officer! For you I will fall in!’ He glared at Elmke and the other men. ‘But only for you! Not for that other pigdog!’

  Schuman turned quickly to the pop-eyed Elmke. ‘Not a word about this man. There will be trouble enough as it is, without adding to it!’

  The signalman said suddenly ‘The Captain says to get what coal we can. He is coming alongside.’ He sounded apprehensive.

  ‘What was that?’ Kohler walked briskly to the rail, his eyes darting from face to face. ‘Coming alongside? Right—prepare the fenders and any spare ropes you can find. Heinemann, open up the port bunker and rig that small derrick!’ His nostrils dilated like an agitated horse. ‘Well, what are you staring at? Are you all deaf?’

  The men broke up and shuffled away, their voices low but protesting. Kohler yelled at them to halt. As they stood in a little ragged group he walked right up to them, his thumbs in his belt.

  ‘Just a moment! There seems to be a little misunderstanding amongst you! Some officers might overlook your unwillingness to obey my instructions, but I will not!’ He stood directly in front of Schiller and stared straight at him. ‘You are worrying yourselves about Seaman Hahn, is that it?’

  The men glanced at Schiller and then at the pale-faced officer but did not speak.

  ‘Well, let me tell you this. I killed him because he was a dangerous, lying pig of a man who regarded life as a right! It is not a right, it is a privilege while you serve in a ship of war! You talk and threaten amongst yourselves, but understand this! I will shoot dead the first man who dares to question my orders! Is that clear?’

  Schuman found that he was biting his lip until he could taste the blood. The man was a maniac. He was goading the men to complain or start trouble. He actually wanted them to!

  Elmke said huskily, ‘Vulkan’s making for us, sir.’ But his eyes were fixed on the figure of the Lieutenant.

  Before Kohler’s piercing stare the men fell back, cowed and beaten, their eyes on the officer’s slender fingers as they played a little tattoo on his holster.

  Gottlieb hissed between his teeth: ‘It’s not fair! They kill us like pigs!’

  Schiller grunted and then belched. ‘Never mind, mate! It will make his death all the more pleasant when it comes!’

  Kohler turned to Schuman and frowned with sudden severity. ‘And for God’s sake don’t imagine that they respect kindness. To them it is weakness!’ He continued briskly: ‘Stand by to hoist coal. It will have to be quick!’ He slapped Schuman’s arm with sudden gaiety. ‘You know, Schuman, I feel better already!’