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 Switzerlandwho 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 need a good torpedo man—and you’re the only one I know.’ A slight smile touched Warren’s lips. ‘It’s not the most crowded trade in the world.’
Parker nodded his agreement. ‘No, it’s not. I don’t want to crack meself up, but I can’t think of another man who can do what you want. It ‘ud be a really bobby-dazzler of a job, though—wouldn’t it? Pushin’ the old Mark XI out to over twenty thousand yards—just think of it.’
Warren held his breath as he watched Parker struggle against temptation, then he sighed as Parker shook his head
‘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 Switzerlandwho 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 need a good torpedo man—and you’re the only one I know.’ A slight smile touched Warren’s lips. ‘It’s not the most crowded trade in the world.’
Parker nodded his agreement. ‘No, it’s not. I don’t want to crack meself up, but I can’t think of another man who can do what you want. It ‘ud be a really bobby-dazzler of a job, though—wouldn’t it? Pushin’ the old Mark XI out to over twenty thousand yards—just think of it.’
Warren held his breath as he watched Parker struggle against temptation, then he sighed as Parker shook his head
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