Decoy (40 page)

‘They were just whittling the first wheel about that time, weren’t they, sir?’ she asked sweetly.

Captain Watts took a deep breath. ‘Tell me, Ned, what’s in here?’

Ned grinned cheerfully. ‘One Mark III Enigma, which was in full working order when bagged but may have been damaged in transit; one U-boat log covering the whole of her last voyage; one U-boat’s wireless log, with all the entries up to yesterday…’

Watts’ face fell. ‘So you didn’t get –’

‘…and one Triton manual,’ Ned added.

Watts roared like a Viking, shook Ned’s hand fiercely, gave Joan a noisy slap on the bottom, and then collapsed in his chair. ‘Damnation – here I have all the riches of the world, but I can’t get at ’em because Joan’s too lazy to find scissors, or a knife, or – hell, even a sharp stone.’

Ned was so weary he said: ‘While you’re going through all this, perhaps I could have a zizz, sir?’

Watts slapped his own head with annoyance. ‘Of course, of course. And the bloody C-in-C Portsmouth’s car and outriders are still waiting outside. Tell ’em to drive you to Palace Street. Then send ’em home to Portsmouth. Let’s empty this container, then you can take it with you. Makes a fearful pong.’

‘Well,’ Ned said lamely, ‘I think the boys would like to keep it as a souvenir.’

Watts raised his eyes to the ceiling. Ned suddenly said: ‘I haven’t got the key to the Palace Street house.’

‘Oh, there’s bound to be someone there,’ Watts said airily. ‘Or just kick in a panel of the door and we’ll send round a chippy to mend it in the morning.’

The Humber pulled up in Palace Street, and while the four motorcyclists revved their engines to stop the plugs oiling, Ned thanked the driver and Marine guard, waved to the motorcyclists, went to the door and rang the bell.

The door opened almost at once and an angry Clare, looking past him into the street, said: ‘What’s all this noise?’

‘Sorry,’ he said and she stared up at him wide-eyed, and managed to murmur, ‘That beard!’ before she fell into his arms.

A week later, clean-shaven and in uniform, Ned sat at his desk in the Citadel. The room was strangely empty without Jemmy and the Croupier. Where was ULJ?

His uniform was newly pressed, his collar overstarched, his tie carefully tied because, with Captain Watts and the First Sea Lord, they were lunching at Number Ten Downing Street, and he was expected to tell the Premier (who had been abroad for several days, a fact which was still secret) the story of the cash register and cookery book.

And he was exhausted. Not tired, just physically exhausted. He had clung to Clare as though life was trying to tear them apart, although that was what death was trying to do. Yet exploding bombs added a hungry intensity to their love-making.

He took the latest U-boat sinking reports from his In-tray and put them squarely on the blotter. That had been a fascinating second visit to Bletchley Park yesterday: it was thoughtful of them to invite him down to watch them using the Enigma Mark III. It was a bizarre experience seeing the Enigma machine that Hazell and Keeler had put in kitbags and stuffed in a salted herring cask now plugged in at a Victorian mansion and clicking away, surrounded by half a dozen boffins who were as excited as punters reading the names of horses coming off a teleprinter and finding they’d all backed winners.

They had only one question to ask him (apart from demanding the complete story of how the U-boat was captured), and that was why the Enigma and the manual had smelled so strongly of herrings.

Ned felt completely flat. Part was a sexual surfeit and relaxing; but the other part was a combination of the sudden let-down of tension when the Sunderland had taken off with him on board, and the worry of what had happened afterwards. At that moment his telephone rang and a crisp voice he did not know asked: ‘Is that Commander Yorke?’

‘Yes, Yorke here.’

‘Is this a scrambler?’

‘Yes – you want me to switch?’ Without waiting for an answer Ned pushed over the lever and the voice said: ‘This is NOIC, Loch Eriboll. Wait, I have a call for you.’

What on earth did the naval officer in charge in about the northernmost loch in Scotland want to talk to him about?’

‘Ned? Jemmy here.’

‘Where the hell are you?’ Ned exclaimed.

‘Christ, up here among the stags and haggises. Loch Eriboll they call it. Has an easy entrance, though.’

Ned then remembered assuming that ULJ was going to the Clyde when Captain Watts had said ‘Scotland’ in answer to his question.

‘Is everything all right?’

‘Yep. They’ve taken away the German Engineer, just in case his mates turn rough. We’ve landed the rest of the prisoners. In fact we’re all relaxing. How’s Joan?’

‘When I saw her – all of ten minutes ago – she was fine.’

‘Missing me?’

‘She didn’t say so. After all, I’m here!’

‘You bastard! Well, is old volts, amps, ohms and Watts in yet? I’d better tell him we’re back.’

‘Yes,’ Ned said dryly, ‘he’ll probably be glad to hear. I know he was grateful for the cask of herrings.’

Dates given are for first publication and (for Ramge series) year in which novel is set.

These Titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

These Titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

Published by House of Stratus

Buccaneer It is the 1650's and Spain considers the Caribbean to be its own private sea. But England, Holland and France conspire to battle for freedom on the oceans set in days littered with the plunder of piracy. Ned Yorke, a loyal Royalist living in Barbados has a small vessel and devoted crew and together they sail, hunted by Roundheads and Spaniards, determined to pay whatever the price for freedom from tyranny. What transpires is a colourful, dramatic retelling of historical events surrounding the capture of Jamaica and the infamous raid on Santiago.

Admiral Charles II returns from exile bringing with him unease to the Spanish Main. In this vivid description of seventeenth-century buccaneers, Ned Yorke, the leader and hero of the swashbuckling band are depended upon for the defence of Jamaica, fighting with captured Spanish guns. Daring raids on the Spanish seem inevitable, as Yorke sets out on the high seas to distant adventures on behalf of the King and his own honour.

Galleon As England falls under a blanket of peace with the restoration of Charles II, in distant Jamaica all is not well. Though there is peace with Spain, there is No Peace Beyond the Line. It seems that the West Indies have become the private estate of the King of Spain. But Ned Yorke, Admiral of the Brethren, leader of the Buccaneers will not kowtow to the new Governor in Jamaica who is bent on weakening the Island’s defences and destroying its currency. Ned Yorke and his Buccaneers must not remain idle. The third in a series set in the Caribbean, Dudley Pope reveals a masterful plot of subtle, seafaring lore wound around the tense excitement of adventure on the high seas.

Corsair In the 1660's Jamaica was an uneasy island, occupied by Spain but settled by the English and French. When Admiral of the Brethren, Ned Yorke, a brave, loyal Buccaneer, learns that Spain is mounting a Caribbean fleet perhaps to protect the treasures of Spanish ships, or carry an army to Jamaica, he vows to find out the truth. Yorke’s audacious attacks on Spanish camps reveal all and the Buccaneers must fight a bloody, desperate battle to try and hinder them.

Convoy A deadly game of cat and mouse unravels its way out of this spine tingling war story as Lieutenant Yorke must find an answer to one vital question: how are German U-Boats sinking merchant ships from inside the convoys? In this gripping saga of heroism and intrigue, Yorke discovers the fate of one entire convoy. Only his wit and daring can lead to its survival and that of himself.

Decoy It is February 1942 and the war in the Atlantic looks grim for the Allied convoys. The ‘Great Blackout’ has started, leaving the spy centre of Bletchley Park in Buckinghamshire at a loss as to what the Nazis are planning. U-boat Command has changed the Hydra cipher. The Enigma cannot be broken. Cipher experts can no longer eavesdrop on Nazi command, which leaves convoys open for attack by packs of marauding Nazi submarines. Winning the Battle of the Atlantic will surely give Hitler a final victory. And who can stop him?