“Why the water?” Jim ran his finger through the puddle in the bottom of the panel box. “It’s leaking from the can.”
“All right.” Banning wiped his upper lip, then gingerly slid the contraption out of the box.
Udell got down low and peered up at the device. “There’s a tiny hole in the bottom.”
Jim tossed aside his cover and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s designed to leak. Very slowly.”
“So the water level inside falls,” Banning said.
“Maybe something’s floating inside,” Jim said. “Like a cork.”
“Yeah.” Udell clapped his hands. “When the water runs out, two wires meet, and boom!”
“Boom.” Jim’s breath ran out.
“Throw it overboard,” Udell said.
“Then we’d lose the evidence. They wouldn’t be able to track down the saboteur.” And Mary would never forgive him. “Let’s cut the wires, take off the TNT.”
Banning frowned at the bomb for a long moment. “Go ahead.”
While Banning held the can and Jim held his breath, Udell pulled his clasp knife off his belt and sliced through the wires. No boom.
All three men released deep sighs.
“Okay. Let’s tell the bridge. Then we’ll show the captain.” Banning pried off the TNT. “They’ll want all of this for the investigation—the can, the padlock, the explosive. Mr. Avery, call up to the bridge.”
Jim got on the telephone. Soon the siren sounded three times overhead, and a voice on the loudspeaker called, “Secure.”
But were they secure? If the saboteur left one bomb, might he have left another? Jim had to tell Durant about the rumors at the shipyard and Mary’s concerns.
Right there in the handling room, surrounded by powder cases and explosive shells. If the bomb had detonated, it could have blown off the bow of the ship and taken many—if not all—of the crewmen to the bottom of the sea.
Thank God, they’d caught it in time. Yes. Thank God.
Jim closed his eyes and did just that.
When he opened his eyes, he looked inside the panel box again. What kind of man would do such a thing? What kind of man had so little regard for human life?
What was that? Dark marks on the wall of the panel box, hidden in the shadows.
Jim pulled his flashlight from his trouser pocket and shone it inside. A bright red swastika marred the steel.
And the words “Sieg Heil!”
13
Boston
Thursday, June 12, 1941
Over Boston Common, the setting sun spilled golden light on the grassy slope. Only six weeks earlier, she and Jim had played detective at the rally.
Now he was in danger.
Mary shuddered as she stood on the corner outside Park Street Church. This morning, Mr. Pennington had told her the USSAtwoodwas coming back to Boston prematurely.
They’d found a bomb on board.
