Suddenly, all the board members were speaking at once. Emma waited for them to settle. “I have an appointment with Mr.—” she checked her file—“Hayden Rankin, at twelve.”

“How many other Americans are on board?” asked Bingham.

“Around a hundred. Why do you ask, Bob?”

“Let’s hope that not too many of them are ambulance-chasing lawyers, otherwise we’ll be facing court actions for the rest of our lives.” Nervous laughter broke out around the table. “Just assure me, Emma, that Mr. Rankin isn’t a lawyer.”

“Worse,” she said. “He’s a politician. A state representative from Louisiana.”

“One worm who’s happily found himself in a barrel of fresh apples,” said Dobbs, a board member who rarely offered an opinion.

“I’m not following you, old chap,” said Clive Anscott, from the other side of the table.

“A local politician who probably thinks he’s spotted an opportunity to make a name for himself on the national stage.”

“That’s all we need,” said Knowles.

The board remained silent for some time, until Bob Bingham said matter-of-factly, “We’re going to have to kill him off. The only question is who will pull the trigger.”

“It will have to be me,” said Giles, “as I’m the only other worm in the barrel.” Dobbs looked suitably embarrassed. “I’ll try and bump into him before he has his meeting with you, chairman, and see if I can sort something out. Let’s hope he’s a Democrat.”

“Thank you, Giles,” said Emma, who still hadn’t got used to her brother addressing her as chairman.

“How much damage did the ship suffer in the explosion?” asked Peter Maynard, who hadn’t spoken until then.

All eyes turned to the other end of the table, where Captain Turnbull was seated.

“Not as much as I originally feared,” said the captain as he rose from his place. “One of the four main propellers has been damaged by the blast, and I won’t be able to replace it until we return to Avonmouth. And there was some damage to the hull, but it’s fairly superficial.”

“Will it slow us down?” asked Michael Carrick.

“Not enough for anyone to notice we’re covering twenty-two knots rather than twenty-four. The other three propellers remain in good working order and as I had always planned to arrive in New York in the early hours of the fourth, only the most observant passenger would realize we’re a few hours behind schedule.”

“I bet Representative Rankin will notice,” said Knowles unhelpfully. “And how have you explained the damage to the crew?”

“I haven’t. They’re not paid to ask questions.”

“But what about the return journey to Avonmouth?” asked Dobbs. “Can we hope to make it back on time?”

“Our engineers will be working flat out on the damaged stern during the thirty-six hours we’re docked in New York, so by the time we sail, we should be shipshape and Bristol fashion.”

“Good show,” said the admiral.

“But that could be the least of our problems,” said Anscott. “Don’t forget we have an IRA cell on board, and heaven knows what else they have planned for the rest of the voyage.”