Seventh Fleet. This seemed to me a belated attempt at recognition of what, on the face of it, might, have been a highly successful joint space effort between the two nations. The British Defence Minister would fly to Mahe to attend, as well as senior naval officers from Allied countries, it was stated. I took it, was because of Peace's famous wartime exploits. I was interviewed by long-distance telephone from London about Peace. A television news crew arrived and the hotel foyer looked like a studio. Through all this I was denied access to the C-in-C.

I went aboard Bellatrix-still no MacFadden. Then came the awful moment when the naval party arrived with the body and my realization that the face below the glass was indeed dead. There was also a message to say that the Cin-C would be pleased to discuss the funeral arrangements with me at my convenience. The funeral was to be delayed, I was informed, pending the arrival by plane of more VIPS. The big jet came round once again, flaps hard down for the landing. Perhaps this was a plane-load of them. If I could have had my way, it would have been a quiet committal to the sea from the deck of Bellatrix… Had the soft thump on the hull come a few minutes earlier, it would have been lost in the roar of the jet. Its very gentleness made it sinister. A boat makes its own particular noise against the hull of a bigger vessel. This was the thump of-a body.

I slipped over to the opposite porthole, and crouched down with my ear against the sycamore panelling. There it was!

The slow slide of 'a body pulling itself up to the deck, with great caution. Had this suspicious approach something to do with the secret Peace never told me? I glanced round the cabin hurriedly and then ducked behind the bar-counter in the corner.

Whoever it was made no sound on deck. I waited.

Then the after door of the cabin began to open slowly.

Out of sight, I would have to rely on sounds from now onwards in order not to be seen. 13