by Nick Elliott
‘Did you know that they profess to harbour the ambition of a Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere? As you no doubt know, that was an imperial propaganda concept formed at the outset of the war but behind it lay a far more sinister ideal. And the Dark Ocean I encountered forty-odd years ago had some very disturbing ideas as to how the region could still be shaped by the will of a resurgent militaristic Japan. So I wonder what they’re about now, umm?’
The man’s earlier vagueness had gone. He was sharply focused now, leaning forward in his chair and looking intently at me as he spoke.
‘Tell me,’ I said, ‘back then how did they think they could realise their ambitions? My father’s notes say you were contacted by a Filipino who was acting for them.’
‘Yes, Santos his name was. He offered me one percent commission if I’d help them monetise the gold from their wartime lootings. He wanted me to be his laundryman.’ Younger laughed to show his disdain. Then he got up and started poking at the fire. ‘A hundred and seventy-six of them but most of those had already been recovered I was told. The Lady Monteith was the last known site: number 176. But I don’t have the answer to your question. They didn’t share their strategic plan with me if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t think they shared it with Santos either. He was just acting as a broker.’
‘What did my father think of all this?’ I asked ‘He says he met you and he didn’t like the idea of playing the crooked cop. But he said he’d talk to Jim Graham. After that there were no further references to the case in his notes.’
‘Yes, Jim Graham and your father were close. In case you’re worried, your dad was a straight arrow. I wouldn’t have talked to him if I’d thought he was corrupt. Anyway, I told Santos to find someone else to wash his dirty linen.’
‘But Santos gave you the wreck coordinates.’
‘Not exactly gave. I led him on at first you see. I was curious. I said if he wanted the Bank to consider his request I’d need to show the Board some evidence. He couldn’t expect us to just take his word for it. It was a highly irregular transaction he was proposing.’
‘And he gave them to you?’
‘Yes, reluctantly. He scribbled them on a piece of paper. I later plotted them on the Admiralty chart. It showed a position a few miles south west of the Jiapeng Liedao islands.’
‘The Toyama Maru was anchored off Dangan Liedao when I was on board. They believed they were close to the wreck there.’
‘You’d need to check that but as I recall, Dangan Liedao and Jiapeng Liedao are two separate island groups; in the same chain but separate.’
‘So how did Santos take it when, having given you the location, you told him there was no deal?’
‘Ha! He did what I guessed he’d do. Nothing. He was a flunky. He couldn’t risk telling his masters in Tokyo that he’d disclosed such priceless information. God knows what they’d have done to him.’
‘I’d like to see them.’
‘I have them somewhere. I’d need to rummage through some drawers. But even if you get this Zoe of yours off the hook this time who’s to say they won’t come after her or you or someone else close to you if you don’t do their bidding. Seems to me you must either barter the information for a safe passage as it were, or join with them.’
‘Yes. That’s pretty much the way I see it,’ I said. That wasn’t the way the IMTF planned it, but the IMTF and those who worked for them, including now myself, were subject to the Official Secrets Act. Whether they expected me to break the law in pursuit of this case had not been made clear. I hadn’t even asked. In the meantime I’d stick with my cover of investigating a possible insurance claim on the Lady Monteith’s cargo. But I wasn’t finished with the old boy yet.
‘What can you tell me about the ambitions of Dark Ocean back then?’ I asked him, returning to my earlier question.
‘They believed wholeheartedly in the principles behind the Co-Prosperity Sphere: the subordination of other nations, the superiority of the Japanese over other Asian races. It was part of an explicit policy before and during the war, and afterwards Dark Ocean adopted it. Fanciful to put it mildly. They were full of hot air I thought. Initially it was talk of controlling the trade routes of the region, then the world. Nonsense!’
‘And this all came to you via Santos?’
‘Yes. Of course he wasn’t privy to the whole plan. And being a Filipino, I don’t think he believed half of what they told him. But he was an opportunist, an unscrupulous one. He wanted me to meet with his masters. I declined but by this time I was more nervous than curious. Talked to your dad and he arranged police protection for me.’
‘Where do you think they went after you turned them down?’
‘I told him to head for Cochin if he wanted to cash in the gold. At that time Cochin or Bombay, were the centres for easy gold transactions, monetising it. Never heard another word. To be honest I was very glad to see the back of Santos and the whole shady business.’
I drank the tea and ate a biscuit while he tried to get his pipe going again. Then I pulled the Buddha statue out of my bag.
‘What do you make of this?’ I asked him.
He finished re-igniting the pipe and took it from me. ‘Was this with your dad’s stuff too then?’
‘Yes. He didn’t get it from you I presume?’
‘Never seen it before.’ He handed it back. ‘Looks old. You think it’s to do with this case of yours do you? Things like this were not uncommon out there. Might have just been some artefact he kept on his desk with his papers, a paperweight to stop stuff flying around, pre-aircon you know when we all had fans on our desks.’
‘You’re probably right,’ I said taking it back from him. ‘What about the rest of the loot? I’ve heard much of it was shipped to the States after the war.’
‘Well now. That’s never been proven of course. But yes, that’s always been rumoured: that the Yanks got their hands on billions which went towards financing the Cold War. Bankrolled dictators on every continent, bribed officials from the UN to KGB agents, even influenced the outcomes of American elections. But that’s another story altogether. Prove it if you can!’
‘It might help support Buchan’s claim if I had some documentation. Cargo manifests would be useful as a start.’
‘Funny you should mention manifests. I remember Santos going on about manifests. He said they existed but he never showed them to me. I wasn’t interested you see.’
We talked on but I learned little more from him. He was reliving the past, his memory of those days vivid still. I think he was reluctant to let me go. I promised I’d keep in touch and let him know how the case panned out.
‘My apologies again for appearing unannounced,’ I said standing up. ‘And I need those coordinates, Sir Timothy.’
‘I know you do. Just wait here, my boy.’ He struggled to his feet and tottered out of the room.
Chapter 14
I returned to Edinburgh by another route and once back in the hotel, keyed the Lady Monteith wreck coordinates Younger had given me into a reverse geocoding tool. It showed a point two or three miles south of the Jiapeng Liedao islands, which themselves were several miles to the southwest of Dangan Liedao. As we’d suspected, they’d been looking in the wrong place.
Nakamura had told me to bring the coordinates to him personally. But before I did so I had to be sure Zoe’s life would no longer be at risk. Dark Ocean had shown itself to be a highly dangerous bunch of criminals, their modus operandi one of ruthless violence in pursuance of their megalomaniacal aims. But they had offered to bring me into their scheme, whatever that was, and if I was to get to the bottom of the case, I needed to join with them on the inside, or at least appear to.
But my first priority was how to protect Zoe. She was better off not knowing the danger she was in, for now. I would need to arrange for her to simply disappear – melt away before her watchers’ eyes. For that to happen I needed to speak with my case officer.
After following an elaborate
contact protocol Claire and I arranged to meet outside the Royal Botanic Garden Glasshouses the following morning. It was close to where she lived and when I arrived she was already waiting. She had a dog with her – a black mongrel puppy.
‘Who’s this?’
‘Asbo. The kids found him and begged me to take him in. He’s a nightmare.’
Asbo was wrapping his lead round Claire’s ankles and barking at the same time.
‘More training needed.’
‘Yours you mean or the dog’s?’
‘You’re cheerful today,’ I said, but I wondered how much was an act. It couldn’t be easy managing the CMM while doing her undercover work and running a household of two young children with a husband who was rarely home. And I still wasn’t sure whether she’d recovered or would ever fully recover from the violent events of a year earlier in Greece.
‘It’s seeing you, darling,’ she said squeezing my arm. ‘Here, you take him.’
She passed me the dog’s lead. I tightened it and pulled him to heel. “Heel!” I said sharply in a commanding tone of voice. The dog took no notice and Claire laughed.
‘He’s Fiona’s dog but of course she expects Nanny to walk him. And Nanny’s back in Oslo on holiday. Anyway, I don’t mind. We all love him really.’
As we walked I brought her up to date ending with my father’s notes, my meeting with Tim Younger and my concern for Zoe’s safety.
‘I have a plan for Zoe,’ Claire said. ‘We’ll get her over here for a month’s training and familiarisation at the CMM. She’s never even visited us because you always kept her to yourself. She can stay with me, come into the office every day, and that way we can keep a close eye on her.’
I was sceptical. ‘I’m not sure how safe she’ll be. For a start you’ll have to smuggle her out of Greece without these bastards noticing. When they do see she’s gone, they’ll start looking.’
‘Angus, I know I downplay the reach and resources of the IMTF but believe me, they’re highly competent in these matters. They’ll keep her well shielded wherever she is, don’t worry.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. But listen, it’s time you heard what they’ve got to say - the IMTF. I've arranged a meeting up here the day after tomorrow. Can you be at South Queensferry, Hawes Pier 0800? And don’t forget the coordinates.’
‘I won’t. But tell them to have a BA chart of the Outer Approaches to Hong Kong: Number 3026; the paper version.’ I needed an Admiralty chart to see exactly where the location was in relation to Hong Kong and its other outlying islands but I’d learned there was no chart agent in either Edinburgh or Leith these days.
We walked through the Gardens enjoying the spring sunshine. She held my arm and once we were on the move Asbo more or less behaved himself.
‘How are you, Claire? Personally I mean.’
‘Absolutely fine, darling,’ she said airily, avoiding a proper answer. ‘Anyway, it’s me who should be asking you. I’m your case officer, remember? You’re such a lone wolf, Angus. We trust you. Or rather I tell my masters at IMTF they can trust you. But we need to talk more often. They need to know what’s going on and I look foolish if I don’t know what my own field agent is up to. My Joe,’ she added leaning her head against my shoulder.’
‘I understand, but it’s not always easy.’ I didn’t want to make things difficult for her but neither did I want people telling me how to handle the case.
‘I have something to show you,’ I said changing the subject.
‘Ooh! I love surprises. I noticed that fancy man bag on your shoulder. What’s in it? I hope you’re not carrying anything classified in there.’
I ignored her mockery, so easily accepted when it comes from someone you love, and fished out the Buddha statue. ‘Take a look at this.’
She took it from me. ‘Hold his lead will you?’ I took the dog while she inspected the little statue. ‘Where did this come from then?’
I told her, and of what Morag and Tim Younger had said about it.
‘But you think it might be linked to the case? I suppose it could be symbolic in some way of what the ship was carrying.’
‘That’s a fair assumption. The Japanese plundered everything of value they set their eyes upon. The Buddhist monasteries and temples were not exempt.’
‘You’ll find out when you find the wreck, darling.’
‘You make it sound like Pokemon.’
‘She laughed. You’ve no idea what Pokemon is, have you.’
‘No. And you do?’
‘Of course. The children are into it. Get a life, Angus.’
Chapter 15
I arrived at Hawes Pier ten minutes late. Claire was already there standing, arms folded, beside her black Porsche. There was no sign of Asbo.
‘Traffic?’ she asked, ‘or a protest in support of your anti-establishment tendencies?’
I had overslept but she’d guessed right. Her intuition was unfailing. I was sensing a certain officiousness that had crept into my limited dealings with the IMTF, even into Claire’s own behaviour. I wasn’t one of their flunkies.
‘Their RIB’s out there,’ she said waving to the little craft, its White Ensign fluttering manically in the wind. As we watched, it started moving towards the pier.
It was a choppy ten minute ride across to the anchorage off Rosyth. The Navy coxswain drew the boat alongside in a well-practised manoeuvre and we clambered up the gangway to be greeted by an officer in naval uniform. He introduced himself as the Chief Officer.
If I’d expected to be piped aboard a state-of-the-art warship of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy, I was to be disappointed. The RFA Sir Gareth, a thirty year old converted ro-ro vessel, was anchored off the naval dockyard at Rosyth undergoing routine maintenance and repairs.
‘We’re not part of the Naval Service as you may or may not know,’ the Chief Mate explained when I asked him how the Royal Fleet Auxiliary fitted into the Royal Navy hierarchy. ‘Us officers wear Merchant Navy rank insignia and naval uniforms, but we’re only under naval discipline when the vessel is engaged on “warlike operations”. So you can relax.’
He led us into the sparsely furnished wardroom. A cheap blue carpet covered the deck and the utilitarian furniture and fittings were typical of what you’d find on any merchant vessel.
A man and a woman dressed in civilian clothing, and a naval officer stood up as we entered. The woman introduced herself as Commodore Amber Dove, the man as Benedict Wood, seconded, he explained, from Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service, MI6. The naval officer, who said his name was Randolph Carvill, was wearing a dark blue sweater with epaulettes signifying he was a Vice Admiral. He must have been close to retirement by the look of him.
We sat down and Amber Dove poured coffee. Claire obviously knew her and Benedict Wood from previous encounters. There was an easy familiarity to their exchanges.
‘Well, at last,’ said Amber Dove. ‘Welcome to the IMTF, Angus. Please forgive the spartan surroundings but I’m sure you’re used to worse.
‘Let me explain. Admiral Carvill here has kindly agreed to sit in. It’s quite possible, given the nautical dimension to this case, that the advice, and possibly the intervention of the Royal Navy may be necessary, so we agreed it was best that a senior officer was present from the beginning. Admiral Carvill is fully conversant with the case. Not only that but he has broad experience of the Far East having completed several extended tours of duty in the Pacific theatre.’ She smiled across at Carvill who nodded and smiled back in the way senior officers do when they’re having to defer to those they consider their subordinates.
‘Now, Benedict here,’ she continued, ‘is on secondment from Six; across the river,’ she added in case I didn’t know what she was talking about. ‘We do work closely with our colleagues in the other intelligence agencies and Benedict has been with us for almost a year now. He also has Far East experience having been assigned to the SIS station in Hong Kong for eighteen months up until last year.
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br /> ‘Finally of course, Claire here who you know well already.’ She gave me what I interpreted as a knowing smile but maybe I was imagining it. ‘As you know, Claire is your case officer, Angus, and we’re very confident that arrangement will work well.’
Amber Dove was in her mid-fifties I guessed, short silvery grey hair, earrings but no other jewellery. She wore a simple black woollen dress. Her manner was relaxed, and I detected humour in her eyes.
Wood was considerably younger, in his mid-thirties and sporting a beard which seemed incongruous with his tight-fitting suit. He deferred to Amber Dove and said little, watchful.
Claire sat, elegant as ever, a look of mild amusement on her face. She knew how frustrated I was at having been shielded from the inner workings of this secretive organisation, and now I was face to face with them. Did she already know what the agenda was and was awaiting my reaction?
As if reading my thoughts, Amber said, ‘I know how impatient you are to know more of our plans, Angus. And we are equally interested in sharing your own thoughts. Let me say first though that Alastair Marshall was not just a valued colleague, he was a dear friend. I was and still am devastated by his death. In our line of work, we are so often close to such calamities, whether our adversaries or among our own people, but Alastair had been with us from the start, when the IMTF was first formed following the disbanding of Naval Intelligence back in the sixties. We grew out of what the old timers like him knew as Room 39. And although we became part of Defence Intelligence at the MoD, the IMTF’s task force status gave us a measure of independence and much of the old culture which had been such a force within Naval Intelligence was retained, cherished even. And Alastair, although latterly he chose a reclusive life, was very much part of that whole transition.’ She paused to drink her coffee. ‘In recent years the IMTF, as you can imagine, has become somewhat preoccupied with the issues of the day. Piracy and the maritime dimension of terrorism have kept us fully stretched despite, as I say, the alliance we enjoy with our colleagues at SIS and other agencies.