Angels in the Gloom_ A Novel - Anne Perry [119]
“No risks,” Archie warned. “Whoever it is, he’ll kill at the drop of a hat. Remember that. He’d have sent the whole ship down last night. The only thing stopping him from killing you is that so far he may not know who you are, any more than you know who he is. But he’ll be looking for you!”
A flutter of physical terror twisted in Matthew’s stomach. His lips were dry. “I know.”
“Don’t forget it—ever,” Archie warned.
“No, sir.”
“Right. Go back to your duty.”
“Yes, sir.” He saluted and left.
They steamed on northward beyond the coast of Ireland, and then east into the North Sea. Matthew moved very carefully, but he knew every hour mattered. Whoever it was would expect the sea trials of the prototype to begin, or they might suspect there was something wrong. How could the Admiralty not wish to deploy such a weapon as soon as possible?
He became so used to the movement of the ship that most of the time he barely noticed it. He still had to count the bells and work out what they meant, and think in watches: five of four hours each, and the two half-length dog watches.
He had studied the plan of the ship, but found no believable excuse to be in the engine room or the magazine. However, he knew the names and service records of every man, but the majority of them he did not recognize by sight.
Gradually he learned enough about both Philpott and MacLaverty to eliminate them, leaving only Robertson, a large gunner with a dark sense of humor and quick, intelligent eyes; and Harper, a skilled engineer in his late forties. He was lean and muscular, moving with a grace that suggested both strength and speed when necessary, but oddly colorless features and fairish brown hair as straight as rain.
The second U-boat attack came not long after midnight, about two hours into the middle watch. Again Matthew was woken by the alarm. He could roll out of bed and into his jacket and boots almost automatically now. Knowing what was coming did not make it better. In an instant he thought of going to where the prototype was stored rather than up to the bridge, but then Archie’s warning brought back some sense. To do that would give him away immediately. And it would then be only a matter of time, perhaps minutes, before Harper or Robertson, whichever it was, would kill him and put him over the side. During the battle with the U-boat would be the ideal time.
Instead he went with the other men, hurriedly. Feet were pounding along the narrow, corticine-floored, metal-walled passages and up the steps, boot soles clanging and scraping, all the way up to the bridge.
He got there before Ragland. The duty officer looked tense in the yellow glare of the lights, his eyes searching the rain-swept night, and the endless black waves around them.
“Bastards are bloody invisible in this,” he said bitterly. “The sooner we try this damn invention we’re supposed to have, the sooner we’ll have a chance! What the hell are we waiting for—Jerry to sit there in the middle of a calm sea so we can take a shot at him and see if we strike? Damn it, we can do that already.”
“Wish I knew,” Matthew said sympathetically. “Maybe it needs daylight to see the results? I’ve no idea.” That was an approximation of the truth. He did not know how they would have tested it to be certain of its abilities.
Further conversation was lost in the noise of gunfire, and it was several minutes before he realized it was not depth charges going off, nor torpedoes fired at them. It was a surface vessel opening up with its four-inch guns and the shells were landing only just short, the water shooting up in columns and falling back again. They were being attacked from both sides, surface and beneath.
They changed course and returned fire, orange flame blossoming from their guns. The noise ripped through the night, bruising the senses.
The next hours passed in a haze of chaos with smoke and flame so thick it choked, then ice-cold