‘Once I get out of the car, Liam, make yourself scarce and assume there are people in the crowd looking for you,’ said Lord Glenarthur. ‘And be sure you’re in my cabin by nine.’
‘I’ve just spotted Cormac and Declan,’ said the chauffeur. He flashed his lights once and they hurried across, ignoring several other passengers who needed assistance.
‘Don’t get out of the car,’ said Glenarthur to the chauffeur. It took both of the porters to lift the heavy trunk out of the boot and place it on a trolley as gently as if they were handling a new-born baby. After one of them had slammed the boot shut, Glenarthur said, ‘When you get back to London, Kevin, keep an eye on forty-four Eaton Square. Now that Martinez has sold his Rolls-Royce, I have a feeling he might do a runner.’ He turned back to Liam. ‘See you at nine,’ he added, then got out of the car and melted into the crowd.
‘When should I deliver the lilies?’ whispered a young man who had appeared by Lord Glenarthur’s side.
‘About thirty minutes before the ship is due to cast off. Then make sure we don’t see you again, unless it’s in Belfast.’
Don Pedro stood at the back of the crowd and watched as a car he recognized came to a halt some distance from the ship.
He wasn’t surprised to see that this particular chauffeur didn’t get out when a couple of porters appeared from nowhere, opened the boot and unloaded a large trunk on to a trolley, and began to wheel it slowly towards the ship. Two men, one elderly and one in his thirties, stepped out of the back of the car. The older man, whom Don Pedro had never seen before, supervised the unloading of the luggage, while chatting to the porters. Don Pedro looked round for the other man, but he had already disappeared into the crowd.
Moments later the car swung round and drove away. Chauffeurs usually open the back door for their passengers, assist with the unloading of luggage, then await further instructions. Not this one, who clearly didn’t want to hang around long enough to be recognized, especially with such a large police presence on the quayside.
Don Pedro felt sure that whatever the IRA had planned, it was more likely to take place during the voyage than before the Buckingham had set sail. Once the car had disappeared, Don Pedro joined a long queue and waited for a taxi. He no longer had a driver or car. He was still smarting at the price he’d been paid for the Rolls-Royce after insisting on cash.
Eventually he reached the front of the queue and asked the cabbie to take him to Temple Meads station. On the train back to Paddington, he mulled over what he’d planned for the next day. He had no intention of paying the second instalment of ￡250,000, not least because he didn’t have the money. He still had just over ￡23,000 in the safe, and another four thousand from the sale of the Rolls. He thought that if he could get out of London before the IRA had fulfilled their part of the bargain, they weren’t likely to follow him to Buenos Aires.
‘Was it him?’ asked the colonel.
‘Might have been, but I can’t be sure,’ Hartley replied. ‘There are a lot of chauffeurs in peaked caps and dark glasses today, and by the time I got close enough to have a good look, he was already heading back towards the gate.’
‘Did you see who he was dropping off?’
‘Look around, sir, it could be any one of the hundreds of passengers boarding the ship,’ said Hartley, as someone brushed past the colonel.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Lord Glenarthur, raising his hat and giving the colonel a smile before he walked up the passenger ramp and boarded the ship.
‘Great cabin,’ said Sam as she came out of the shower wrapped in a towel. ‘They’ve thought of everything a girl needs.’
‘That’s because my mother will have inspected every room.’
‘Every one?’ said Sam in disbelief.
‘You’d better believe it. It’s just a pity she hasn’t thought about everything a boy needs.’
‘What else could you possibly want?’
‘A double bed, to start with. Don’t you think it’s a bit early in our relationship to be sleeping in separate beds?’
‘Stop being so feeble, Seb, just push them together.’
‘I wish it was that easy, but they’re bolted to the floor.’
‘Then why don’t you take the mattresses off,’ she said, speaking very slowly, ‘put them next to each other, and we’ll sleep on the floor.’
‘I’ve already tried that, and there’s barely enough room to fit one on the floor, let alone two.’
‘If only you earned enough for us to have a first-class cabin, it wouldn’t be a problem,’ she said with an exaggerated sigh.
‘By the time I can afford that, we probably will be sleeping in separate beds.’
‘Not a chance,’ said Sam as her towel fell to the floor.
‘Good evening, my lord, my name is Braithwaite, and I’m the senior steward on this deck. Can I say what a pleasure it is to have you on board. If there’s anything you need, night or day, just pick up the phone and dial one hundred, and someone will come immediately.’
‘Thank you, Braithwaite.’
‘Would you like me to unpack your suitcases while you’re at dinner, my lord?’
‘No, that’s very kind of you, but I’ve had a rather tiring journey down from Scotland, so I think I’ll rest and probably skip dinner.’
‘As you wish, my lord.’
‘In fact,’ said Lord Glenarthur, extracting a five-pound note from his wallet, ‘can you make sure I’m not disturbed before seven tomorrow morning, when I’d like a cup of tea and some toast and marmalade?’
‘Brown or white, my lord?’
‘Brown will be just fine, Braithwaite.’
‘I’ll put the Do not disturb sign on your door and leave you to rest. Good night, my lord.’
The four of them met in the ship’s chapel soon after they’d checked into their cabins.
‘I don’t imagine we’ll be getting a lot of sleep for the next few days,’ said Scott-Hopkins. ‘After spotting that car, we have to assume there’s an IRA cell on board.’
‘Why would the IRA be interested in the Buckingham, when they’ve got enough troubles of their own at home?’ asked Corporal Crann.
‘Because if they could pull off a coup like sinking the Buckingham, it would take everyone’s minds off those troubles at home.’
‘Surely you don’t think—’ began Hartley.
‘Always best to expect the worst-case scenario, and assume that’s what they have in mind.’
‘Where would they get the money to fund an operation like that?’
‘From the man you spotted standing on the dockside.’
‘But he didn’t come on board, and took the train straight back to London,’ said Roberts.
‘Would you come on board if you knew what they had planned?’
‘If he’s only interested in the Barrington and Clifton families, that at least narrows down the target, because they’re all on the same deck.’
‘Not true,’ said Roberts. ‘Sebastian Clifton and his girlfriend are in cabin 728. They could also be a target.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said the colonel. ‘If the IRA were to kill the daughter of an American diplomat, you can be sure that any funds coming out of the States would dry up overnight. I think we should concentrate on those first-class cabins on deck one, because if they managed to kill Mrs Clifton along with one or two other members of her family, the Buckingham would not only be making its maiden voyage, but its final voyage. With that in mind,’ continued the colonel, ‘for the remainder of the trip we’ll carry out a four-hour shift patrol. Hartley, you cover the first-class cabins until two a.m. I’ll take over from you then, and wake you just before six. Crann and Roberts can cover the same watches in cabin class, because that’s where I think we’ll find the cell is located.’
‘How many are we looking for?’ asked Crann.
‘They’ll have at least three or four operatives on board, posing as either passengers or crew members. So if you spot anyone you’ve ever seen on the streets of Northern Ireland, it won’t be a coincidence. And make sure I’m briefed immediately. Which reminds me, did you find out the names of the passengers who booked the last two first-class cabins on number-one deck?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Hartley. ‘Mr and Mrs Asprey, cabin five.’
‘The shop I won’t allow my wife to enter, unless it’s with another man.’
‘And Lord Glenarthur is in cabin three. I looked him up in Who’s Who. He’s eighty-four, and was married to the sister of Lord Harvey, so must be the chairman’s great-uncle.’
‘Why has he got a Do not disturb sign on his door?’ asked the colonel.
‘He told the steward he was exhausted after the long journey from Scotland.’
‘Did he now?’ said the colonel. ‘Still, we’d better keep an eye on him, although I can’t imagine what use the IRA would have for an eighty-four-year-old.’
The door opened, and they all looked around to see the chaplain enter. He smiled warmly at the four men, who were on their knees holding prayer books.
‘Can I be of any assistance?’ he asked as he walked up the aisle towards them.
‘No, thank you, padre,’ said the colonel. ‘We were just leaving.’