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going to claim that he didn't abandon ship because he thought another fuel tank was about to go and he didn't want his precious passengers splashing about in a sea of blazing fuel oil which would, of course, also have destroyed the rubber dinghies.'

    'I'm grieved, sir. I thought I'd thought of that first.'

    'You did, in fact. When the passengers are cleaned up see if you can get this young lady, Irene Charial, alone and find out if she knows anything about the layout of the engine-room. The casual approach, Vincent, the innocent and cherubic expression, although I doubt the last is beyond you. Anyway it's possible she's never been there and may possibly know nothing about it.'

    'It's equally possible, sir, that she knows all about it and may well choose to tell me something. Miss Charial is Andropulos's niece.'

    'The thought had occurred. However, if Andropulos is not all he might be, then the chances are high that there is some other member of his ship's company in his confidence and I would have thought that would be a man. I don't say that that's because you know what the Greeks are like because I don't know what the Greeks are like. And we mustn't forget that Andropulos may be as innocent as the driven snow and that there is a perfectly rational explanation for all that has happened. Anyway, it would do no harm to try and you never can tell, Vincent  --  she might turn out to be a classic Greek beauty.'

    From the fact that the whaler was lying stopped in the water and that Cousteau, his hand resting idly on the tiller, appeared to be expressing no great degree of interest in anything, it was obvious that his wait had been a vain one, a fact he confirmed on his arrival on the bridge.

    Talbot called the sonar room. 'You have pinpointed the location of the plane?'

    'Yes, sir. We're sitting exactly above it. Depth registered is eighteen fathoms. That's the echo from the top of the fuselage. Probably lying in about twenty fathoms. It's lying in the same direction as it was flying when it came down - north-east to south-west. Picking up some rather odd noises down here, sir. Would you care to come down?'

    'Yes, I will.' For reasons best known to himself Halzman, die senior sonar operator, preferred not to discuss it over an open line. 'A minute or two.' He turned to Van Gelder. 'Have McKenzie put down a marker buoy, about midships. Tell him to lower the weight gently. I don't want to bump too hard against the plane's fuselage in case we do actually come into contact with it. When that's been done, I want to anchor. Two anchors. A stern anchor to the north-west, about a hundred yards distant from the buoy, then a bow anchor a similar distance to the south-east.'

    'Yes, sir. May I suggest the other way around?'

    'Of course, you're right. I'd forgotten about our old friend. Taking a holiday today, isn't it? The other way around, of course.' The 'old friend' to which he referred and which Van Gelder clearly had in mind, was the Meltemi wind, referred to as the 'Etesian' in the British sailing directions. In the Cyclades, in the summer months - and indeed in most or the Aegean  --  it blew steadily, but usually only in the afternoon and early evening, from the north-west. If it did start up, the Ariadne would ride more comfortably if it were bows on to it.

    Talbot went to the sonar room which was only one deck down and slightly aft. The sonar room was heavily insulated against all outside noise and dimly lit by subdued yellow lighting. There were three display screens, two sets of control panels and, over and above all, a considerable number of heavily padded earphones. Halzman caught sight of him in

    an overhead mirror  --  there were a number of such mirrors around, speaking as well as any other kind of sound was kept to a minimum in the sonar room - removed his earphones and gestured to the seat beside him.

    'Those earphones, sir. I thought you might be interested in listening for a minute.'

    Talbot sat and