made an exclamation. ‘Oh, I’ll be late. You’ll have to excuse me, Doctor.’
‘That’s all right, Mrs Parker,’ said Warren, rising.
‘You get off, lass,’ said Parker. ‘I’ll see to the dishes, an’ the doctor an’ me will have a quiet chat.’ Mrs Parker left, and Parker produced a stubby pipe which he proceeded to fill. ‘You said you wanted to see me on business, Doctor.’ He looked up in a puzzled way, and then smiled. ‘Maybe you’ll be wantin’ a new car.’
‘No,’ said Warren. ‘How are things at the garage, Dan?’
Parker shrugged. ‘Same as ever. Gets a bit monotonous at times – but I’m doin’ an interestin’ job now on a Mini-Cooper.’ He smiled slowly. ‘Most o’ the time I’m dealin’ wi’ the troubles o’ maiden ladies. I had one come in the other day – said the car was usin’ too much petrol. I tested it an’ there was nothin’ wrong, so I gave it back. But she was back in no time at all wi’ the same trouble.’
He struck a match. ‘I still found nothin’ wrong, so I said to her, “Miss Hampton, I want to drive around a bit with you just for a final check,” so off we went. The first thing she did was to pull out the choke an’ hang her bag on it – said she thought that was what it was for.’ He shook his head in mild disgust.
Warren laughed. ‘You’re a long way from the Navy, Dan.’
‘Aye, that’s a fact,’ said Parker, a little morosely. ‘I still miss it, you know. But what can a man do?’ Absently, he stroked his bad leg. ‘Still, I daresay it’s better for Sally an’ the kids even though she never minded me bein’ away.’
‘What do you miss about it, Dan?’
Parker puffed at his pipe contemplatively. ‘Hard to say. I think I miss the chance o’ handling fine machinery. This patching up o’ production cars doesn’t stretch a man – that’s why I like to get something different, like this Mini-Cooper I’m workin’ on now. By the time I’m finished wi’ it Issigonis wouldn’t recognize it.’
Warren said carefully, ‘Supposing you were given the chance of handling naval equipment again. Would you take it?’
Parker took the pipe out of his mouth. ‘What are you gettin’ at, Doctor?’
‘I want a man who knows all about torpedoes,’ Warren said bluntly.
Parker blinked. ‘I know as much as anyone, I reckon, but I don’t see …’ His voice tailed off and he looked at Warren in a baffled way.
‘Let me put it this way. Supposing I wanted to smuggle something comparatively light and very valuable into a country that has a seaboard. Could it be done by torpedo?’
Parker scratched his head. ‘It never occurred to me,’ he said, and grinned. ‘But it’s a bloody good idea. What are you thinkin’ o’ doin’ the Excise with? Swiss watches?’
‘What about heroin?’ asked Warren quietly.
Parker went rigid and stared at Warren as though he had suddenly sprouted horns and a tail. The pipe fell from his fingers to lie unregarded as he said, ‘Are you serious? I’d a’ never believed it.’
‘It’s all right, Dan,’ said Warren. ‘I’m serious, but not in the way you mean. But could it be done?’
There was a long moment before Parker groped for his pipe. ‘It could be done all right,’ he said. ‘The old Mark XI carried a warhead of over seven hundred pounds. You could pack a hell of a lot o’ heroin in there.’
‘And the range?’
‘Maximum five thousand, five hundred yards if you preheat the batteries,’ said Parker promptly.
‘Damn!’ said Warren disappointedly. ‘That’s not enough. You said batteries. Is this an electric torpedo?’
‘Aye. Ideal for smugglin’ it is. No bubbles, you see.’
‘But not nearly enough range,’ said Warren despondently. ‘It was a good idea while it lasted.’
‘What’s your problem?’ asked Parker, striking a match.
‘I was thinking of a ship cruising outside the territorial waters of the United States and firing a torpedo inshore. That’s twelve miles – over twenty-one thousand yards.’
‘That’s a long way,’ said Parker, puffing at his pipe. It did not ignite and he had to strike another match and it was some time before he got the pipe glowing to his satisfaction. ‘But maybe it could be done.’
Warren ceased to droop and looked up alertly. ‘It could?’
‘The Mark XI came out in 1944 an’ things have changed since then,’ said Parker thoughtfully. He looked up. ‘Where would you be gettin’ a torpedo, anyway?’
‘I haven’t gone into that yet,’ said Warren. ‘But it shouldn’t be too difficult. There’s an American in Switzerland who has enough war surplus arms to outfit the British forces. He should have torpedoes.’
‘Then they’d be Mark XIs,’ said Parker. ‘Or the German equivalent. I doubt if anythin’ more modern has got on the war surplus market yet.’ He pursed his lips. ‘It’s an interestin’ problem. You see, the Mark XI had lead-acid batteries – fifty-two of ‘em. But things have changed since the war an’ you can get better batteries now. What I’d do would be to rip out the lead-acid batteries an’ replace with high-power mercury cells.’ He stared at the ceiling dreamily. ‘All the circuits would need redesignin’ an’ it would be bloody expensive, but I think I could do it.’
He leaned forward and tapped his pipe against the fireplace, then looked Warren firmly in the eye. ‘But not for smugglin’ dope.’
‘It’s all right, Dan; I haven’t switched tracks.’ Warren rubbed his chin. ‘I want you to work with me on a job. It will pay twice as much as you’re getting at the garage, and there’ll be a big bonus when you’ve finished. And if you don’t want to go back to the garage there’ll be a guaranteed steady job for as long as you want it.’
Parker blew a long plume of smoke. ‘There’s a queer smell to this one, Doctor. It sounds illegal to me.’
‘It’s not illegal,’ said Warren quickly. ‘But it could be dangerous.’
Parker pondered. ‘How long would it take?’
‘I don’t know. Might be three months – might be six. It wouldn’t be in England, either, you’d be going out to the Middle East.’
‘And it could be dangerous. What sort o’ danger?’
Warren decided to be honest. ‘Well, if you put a foot wrong you could get yourself shot.’
Parker laid down his pipe in the hearth. ‘You’re askin’ a bloody lot, aren’t you? I have a wife an’ three kids – an’ here you come wi’ a funny proposition that stinks to high heaven an’ you tell me I could get shot. Why come to me, anyway?’
‘I
