"Alistair MacLean - San Andreas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maclean Alistair)

'For'ard. Carpenter's shop. Lead cable passing through a bulkhead. Clips on either side seemed to have worked loose where it passed through the hole in the bulkhead.'

Bowen said: 'Normal ship's vibration, weather movement - doesn't take much to chafe through soft lead.'

'Lead's tougher than you think, sir. In this case a pair of hands helped the normal chafing along. Not that that matters. Inside the lead sheathing the rubber round the power cable has been scorched away."

'Which one would expect in a short?'

'Yes, sir. Only, I know the smell of electrically burnt rubber and it doesn't smell like sulphur. Some bright lad had used an igniting match-head or heads to do the trick. I've left Ellis on the repair job. It's simple and he should be about through now.'

'Well, well. So it's as easy as that to knock out a ship's electrical power.'

'Almost, sir. He'd one other little job to do. There's a fuse-box just outside the carpenter's shop and he removed the appropriate fuse before starting work. Then he returned to the fuse-box and shorted out the line - insulated pliers, ditto screwdriver, almost anything would do - then replaced the fuse. If he'd replaced the fuse before shorting out the line it would have blown, leaving the rest of the electrical system intact. Theoretically, that is - on very rare occasions the fuse is not so obliging and doesn't go.' Jamieson smiled faintly. 'Fact of the matter is, if I'd had a cold in the nose he might have got away with it.'

The phone rang. Captain Bowen lifted it and handed it over to Patterson who listened, said: 'Sure. Now,' and handed the phone back. 'Engine-room. Power coming on.'

Perhaps half a minute passed, then Captain Bowen said mildly: 'You know, I don't think the power is coming on.'

Jamieson rose and Bowen said: 'Where are you going?'

'I don't know, sir. Well, first of all to the engine-room to pick up Ellis and the bridge-megger and then I don't know. It would seem that old Flannelfoot has more than one string to his bow.'

The phone rang again and Bowen, without answering, handed it over to Patterson, who listened briefly, said: 'Thank you. Mr Jamieson is coming down,' and handed the phone back. 'Same again. I wonder how many places our friend has jinxed and is just waiting for the opportunity to activate them.'

Jamieson hesitated at the door. 'Do we keep this to ourselves?'

'We do not.' Bowen was positive. 'We broadcast it far and wide. Granted, Flannelfoot, as you call him, will be forewarned and forearmed, but the knowledge that a saboteur is at large will make everyone look at his neighbour and wonder what a saboteur looks like. If nothing else, it will make this lad a great deal more circumspect and, with any luck, may restrict his activities quite a bit.' Jamieson nodded and left.

Bowen said: 'I think, John, you might double the watch in the engine-room or at least bring two or three extra men - not, you understand, for engine-room duties.'

'I understand. You think, perhaps - '

'If you wanted to sabotage, incapacitate a ship, where would you go?"

Patterson rose, went to the door and, as Jamieson had done, stopped there and turned. 'Why?' he said. 'Why, why, why?'

'I don't know why. But I have an unpleasant feeling about the where and the when. Here or hereabouts and sooner than we think, quicker than we want. Somebody,' Captain Bowen said as if by way of explanation, 'has just walked over my grave.' Patterson gave him a long look and closed the door quietly behind him.

Bowen picked up the phone, dialled a single number and said: 'Archie, my cabin.' He had no sooner replaced the receiver when it rang again. It was the bridge. Batesman didn't sound too happy.

'Snowstorm's blowing itself out, sir. Andover can see us now. Wants to know why we're not showing any lights. I told them we had a power failure, then another message just now, why the hell are we taking so long to fix it?'

'Sabotage.'

'I beg your pardon, sir.'

'Sabotage. S for Sally, A for Arthur, B for Bobby, O for - '

'Good God! Whatever - I mean, why - '