Nothing Ventured(58)
The superintendent, Lamont, and Jackie were the last to leave Guildford police station in an unmarked car. By the time they reached the target, both buses were in place, engines idle, with their lights off. Twenty-six men and three women sat and waited in silence.
16:23 CET
After stowing their bags in the sleeping quarters below, the two new itinerant deckhands reported for duty on the main deck.
“How long will it take to reach the site?” Monti asked the chief deckhand.
“It’s about forty nautical miles away, so a little over five hours. We’ll be casting off as soon as our customers and the divers come aboard. Meanwhile, you two can help with the loading.”
William and Monti made sure they pulled their weight, loading everything from crates of apples to a new winch, as clearly the skipper wanted to make it look as if they would be at sea for at least seven days.
William only stopped working when a Mercedes drew up alongside the gangway and two men stepped out onto the dockside. He recognized them immediately. A couple of deckhands took their luggage—not a lot, thought William, considering they’d booked the vessel for a week. Grant was still clutching on to the bulky holdall, and made sure the two deckhands didn’t get anywhere near it.
William and Monti remained in the shadows, to avoid coming in contact with the two passengers as they boarded the ship.
“I can’t imagine much will happen until we reach the salvage site,” whispered Monti, “but it’s still a risk we can’t afford to take. So we’ll have to remain on deck until eight bells.”
18:22 GMT
“The firearms squad is in place, sir,” said a lone voice over the intercom, sounding like a crack of thunder, after a couple of hours of silence.
“Welcome aboard,” said Lamont. “Maintain radio silence until you see the robbers entering the house.”
“Roger that, sir.”
21
22:06 CET
William settled down on his bunk just after ten, but he didn’t sleep. Some of the deckhands were playing cards, while others told unlikely tales of treasure they had recovered from the bottom of the ocean. It soon became clear they had no idea how successful this trip was going to be, and not many of them sounded optimistic.
While William rested, Monti continued working and keeping watch on deck. He was back by William’s bunk just after midnight, and as it was a little quieter, was able to brief his colleague without being overheard.
“Nothing much is happening on deck,” he said. “Carter and Grant haven’t left their cabins since we set sail. I doubt if we’ll see either of them before first light. But we can’t afford to take any chances, so you’d better take my place. When you go up on deck, you’ll see a lifeboat on the starboard side.”
“Which is the starboard side?” asked William.
“The right, idiot. I thought you came from a nation of sailors. Climb in under the tarpaulin, so if anyone comes out on deck during your watch, they won’t see you. Just make sure you don’t fall asleep. Wake me at four and I’ll take your place.”
William made his way up a spiral staircase and out onto the deck. He spotted the lifeboat, gently swaying in the breeze, and crept cautiously toward it, stopping at the slightest unfamiliar sound.
One last check to make sure no one was watching him. He steadied the lifeboat, pulled himself up, and slithered underneath the tarpaulin. He soon realized there was no danger of falling asleep. He was far more likely to be sick.
He tried to master the technique of swinging with the boat, and however many times he kept looking at his watch, the minute hand didn’t move any faster. And then, without warning, he heard heavy footsteps approaching, followed by a voice speaking in English.
22:19 GMT
Jackie decided that this was even worse than a stakeout, because they were waiting for someone who wasn’t there, rather than for someone who was there and must eventually show up.
00:58 CET
“Everything’s in place. Now all we have to do is…”
William didn’t move a muscle until the voice faded away. More words, but they were scattered in the wind. He raised the tarpaulin an inch, and his eyes settled on a group of four men standing only a few yards from the lifeboat.
Grant unzipped the holdall and lifted out the old wooden casket William had first seen in Carter’s workshop. He placed it carefully on the deck. The chief deckhand deftly tied a rope around it as if he were wrapping a large Christmas present. Once he was satisfied that it was secure, he walked across and attached the rope to a winch that William and Monti had helped carry on board. The deckhand took the handle and turned it slowly until the rope’s slack had been taken up. An older man with a weatherbeaten face and a dark unkempt beard, who was wearing a cap with braid on it, steadied the casket as it was raised inch by inch, slowly off the deck.
When it was about three feet in the air, the captain guided it gently over the ship’s railing, then nodded. The chief deckhand started to turn the winch in the opposite direction. The casket began its slow downward journey toward the water. William didn’t lose sight of the box until it disappeared beneath the waves. It was several more minutes before the wincher had done his job, and the casket came to rest on the seabed, some 130 feet below them. The captain and the chief deckhand then lowered a small anchor overboard. It was attached to a flashing buoy, marking the exact location of the drop.