Catherine system of cables and sonar buoys along the seabed. He often visited American ice islands to see what they were up to.' Papanin hammered his huge fist down on the desk. 'And that's when they gave him the money to bring in - during those visits to American bases! He's never been searched when he came back - no one would dream of it.'
'But why?' Kramer was bewildered. 'Why would he do it?'
'That damned Jewish mistress of his persuaded him. He was going with her for three years before she died - and he's still doing it, for the sake of her memory or some such lunatic sentiment!'
'It's fantastic . . .'
'It's logical!' Papanin shouted. 'He met his brother, the deputy mate, Peter, in Kiev this month while they were both on leave. Peter comes back here to board his ship - and on the way he meets this American, Winthrop, in the park. He was passing a verbal message to Winthrop - from his brother, Michael.'
'We'll have to be careful.' Kramer warned. 'Michael Gorov is a friend of Marshal Grechko.'*
'Grechko is an arrogant hog. If I'm right about Gorov you'll find that Grechko hardly knew him.'
* Soviet Minister of Defence.
'It's still dangerous . . .'
'Maybe, but there's someone else we can get at - Peter Gorov, a mere seaman. You found out the present position of the Girolog?'
'She's five hours' sailing time from Tallinn . . .'
'Send a plane immediately to Tallinn airport to wait for Gorov, Radio the ship's master to sail straight for Tallinn. Five hours to port, half an hour to and from airports at either end, one's hour's flight to here. Peter Gorov should be in ray office in seven hours' time - by three o'clock Sunday morning! What are you hanging about for, Kramer?'
Alone again in his overheated office, Papanin took out his little pocket chess set and stared at the board. The Siberian, a man of many talents, was a Soviet grandmaster of chess. In July he would be in Iceland for the coming Spassky-Fischer chess match. Officially he would attend as one of Spassky's advisers; unofficially he would be chief Soviet representative to keep an eye on security.
Outwardly a flamboyant and extrovert personality, Igor Papanin had a cold, detached brain which regarded the whole Arctic as a gigantic chess board. There were Soviet pieces and American pieces on the board and in any con test of wills you had to get the opening gambit right. Curiously enough, considering the role Keith Beaumont was to play in the coming battle of wills, the Siberian was studying the English Opening.
'A message has just come through from Crocodile.'
Kramer reported the news casually when he came back into the Siberian's office half an hour later, as though it were of no great importance. 'They are just decoding it,' he added. He paused as Papanin went on reading the personal file on Michael Gorov.
'Anything else?' Papanin grunted without looking up.
'Who is Crocodile?'
'A person. Identity known only to General Syrtov and myself.' Having delivered the snub, Papanin looked up. 'I want to see that message the moment it's decoded.'
It was 9 pm before Kramer returned with the message. The Girolog had already changed course and was heading slowly south through the ice for the port of Tallinn. The plane Kramer had sent was due to land at Tallinn airport within ten minutes.
In Washington, where they were eight hours behind Leningrad, Dawes and Adams were waiting with growing impatience for a signal from a man who was dead. In Greenland, also eight hours behind Leningrad, Beaumont and Grayson were flying back to Thule from the Humboldt Glacier. One message - from Winthrop - would never ar rive. Another signal - from Tillotson - was just being handed to Papanin.
'They had trouble with it,' Kramer explained. 'It's rather garbled. The operator says it was transmitted very erratic ally and he's sure it isn't complete.'
Papanin read the message. 'What a brilliant deduction,' he commented. He stroked the top of his close-shaven head while he read the
'But why?' Kramer was bewildered. 'Why would he do it?'
'That damned Jewish mistress of his persuaded him. He was going with her for three years before she died - and he's still doing it, for the sake of her memory or some such lunatic sentiment!'
'It's fantastic . . .'
'It's logical!' Papanin shouted. 'He met his brother, the deputy mate, Peter, in Kiev this month while they were both on leave. Peter comes back here to board his ship - and on the way he meets this American, Winthrop, in the park. He was passing a verbal message to Winthrop - from his brother, Michael.'
'We'll have to be careful.' Kramer warned. 'Michael Gorov is a friend of Marshal Grechko.'*
'Grechko is an arrogant hog. If I'm right about Gorov you'll find that Grechko hardly knew him.'
* Soviet Minister of Defence.
'It's still dangerous . . .'
'Maybe, but there's someone else we can get at - Peter Gorov, a mere seaman. You found out the present position of the Girolog?'
'She's five hours' sailing time from Tallinn . . .'
'Send a plane immediately to Tallinn airport to wait for Gorov, Radio the ship's master to sail straight for Tallinn. Five hours to port, half an hour to and from airports at either end, one's hour's flight to here. Peter Gorov should be in ray office in seven hours' time - by three o'clock Sunday morning! What are you hanging about for, Kramer?'
Alone again in his overheated office, Papanin took out his little pocket chess set and stared at the board. The Siberian, a man of many talents, was a Soviet grandmaster of chess. In July he would be in Iceland for the coming Spassky-Fischer chess match. Officially he would attend as one of Spassky's advisers; unofficially he would be chief Soviet representative to keep an eye on security.
Outwardly a flamboyant and extrovert personality, Igor Papanin had a cold, detached brain which regarded the whole Arctic as a gigantic chess board. There were Soviet pieces and American pieces on the board and in any con test of wills you had to get the opening gambit right. Curiously enough, considering the role Keith Beaumont was to play in the coming battle of wills, the Siberian was studying the English Opening.
'A message has just come through from Crocodile.'
Kramer reported the news casually when he came back into the Siberian's office half an hour later, as though it were of no great importance. 'They are just decoding it,' he added. He paused as Papanin went on reading the personal file on Michael Gorov.
'Anything else?' Papanin grunted without looking up.
'Who is Crocodile?'
'A person. Identity known only to General Syrtov and myself.' Having delivered the snub, Papanin looked up. 'I want to see that message the moment it's decoded.'
It was 9 pm before Kramer returned with the message. The Girolog had already changed course and was heading slowly south through the ice for the port of Tallinn. The plane Kramer had sent was due to land at Tallinn airport within ten minutes.
In Washington, where they were eight hours behind Leningrad, Dawes and Adams were waiting with growing impatience for a signal from a man who was dead. In Greenland, also eight hours behind Leningrad, Beaumont and Grayson were flying back to Thule from the Humboldt Glacier. One message - from Winthrop - would never ar rive. Another signal - from Tillotson - was just being handed to Papanin.
'They had trouble with it,' Kramer explained. 'It's rather garbled. The operator says it was transmitted very erratic ally and he's sure it isn't complete.'
Papanin read the message. 'What a brilliant deduction,' he commented. He stroked the top of his close-shaven head while he read the
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