Buried Secrets: The Freeman Files Series: Book 11 by Ted Tayler (that summer book TXT) 📕

“For a man, whose engineering knowledge allowed him to work in such a challenging environment,” said Gus. “Yes, that seemed odd to me too. Where did you think he would be employed?”

“His qualifications marked him out for a role as a Chartered Engineer,” said Max. “He could have worked on Guided Weapons Systems, in Cyber Defence, Explosive Ordnance Engineering, or Project Management. The sky was the limit.”

“When did you first notice the change in his personality?” asked Alex.

“I’m not sure I understand the question,” said Max.

“Who arranged the trips in these photographs that Alan sent his parents?” asked Gus.

“I sorted out the visits to Egypt and Sydney,” said Max. “There was a gang of us who joined at the same time and found ourselves on the same submarine. We always got on well.”

“Who decided on Table Mountain?” asked Alex.

“I think it was one of the others. We flew to Cape Town and spent several days on the beach at Plettenberg Bay and Port Elizabeth. Smudger wanted to see Table Mountain. There was a race meeting at Kenilworth too, although not everyone was keen to go. Alan went with Freddie, Chuff and Oddjob in the end.”

“Oddjob?” asked Gus. “His name didn’t get mentioned by Alan’s parents.”

“He was usually tied up with something else. Lenny Lambert was his name. I haven’t seen him in ages. He was older than us, even Lofty, so he would have retired soon after Alan quit.”

“He wasn’t in the photo which suggests he was behind the camera,” said Alex.

“Lenny wasn’t keen on having his photo taken,” said Max. “He was a bit of a porker.”

“Did Alan organise the trips after that?” asked Gus.

“He did, yeah,” said Max. “Odd because he was happy to go along with the crowd. Alan never pushed himself forward to organise anything, or get involved in any committees or societies onshore at Faslane, or when we were at sea. If that’s what you meant about a personality change, I guess it was a departure from the way he usually behaved.”

“The next trip was in the autumn of 2001 to Paris, when they stage the big race out at Longchamp,” said Gus. “Did Lenny Lambert travel with you on that trip?”

“He backed the winner, Sakhee, ridden by Frankie Dettori. The rest of us came nowhere.”

“Was horse racing something of a passion for several of you?” asked Gus.

“Not really,” said Max. “It was a passion for Lenny Lambert, of course. That’s how he got his nickname. Lenny was the go-to man for the odds on any of the big races. He’d been following the horses since he left school. Lenny knew what was going to shorten on the day, and vice versa. When you spend weeks at sea, it brightens your day if you can get a bet on the Grand National or the Derby. I could take it or leave it.”

“What about Alan Duncan?” asked Gus.

“Hard to tell with Alan,” said Max. “He gave little away about anything.”

“We’ve heard that from almost everyone who knew him from 2004 onwards,” said Gus.

“There’s a pattern developing here, guv,” said Alex. “Cape Town and Paris sound innocent enough tourist spots, but the visits coincided with race meetings. Some internationally famous, and others that were run-of-the-mill. In June 2002, the gang visited Hong Kong.”

“Lots of interesting places to visit there, Max,” said Gus. “Bob Duncan remembers a photo with several of you wearing gaudy Hawaiian shirts. Alan removed that photo from the house for a reason. Someone took a photo of you out at Happy Valley.”

“Blimey, that was a laugh. I can’t remember who decided on fancy dress. I’m glad I never kept a copy. Embarrassing.”

“Lenny Lambert was in that photo,” said Gus.

“He was, Lenny was next to me,” said Max.

“Who went behind the camera?” asked Alex.

“Drew Taggart. It had to be. He was wearing one of those shirts that day too.”

“Out of interest, why did you call him Chuff?” asked Alex.

“He was a trainspotter when he was a kid.”

“There’s no point telling Lydia and the other youngsters,” Gus told Alex.

Max laughed. He knew what Gus meant.

“I used to go to Barry Island when I was a boy. There was a steam train graveyard there. Hundreds of engines all waiting to get scrapped. You have to be a certain age to remember the engine sound before everything went to diesel and electric. No magic in them these days is there?”

“That’s progress for you,” said Gus. “Alex is right. After Alan assumed responsibility for your trips, a racetrack was always close to the principal centre you visited. The Te Rapa course is near Hamilton in New Zealand, which you visited in February 2003.”

“I went surfing with Chuff and Lofty the day the others went to the races,” said Max. “That was one of the few trips where Bryan Tarbuck joined us.”

“We’re speaking to Keith Smith later, as I’m sure you’re aware,” said Gus. “Tomorrow, we’ll catch up with Freddie Watts on the Isle of Man. Have you kept in touch with the others?”

“After we stopped working together on Gold Watch, we went our separate ways. Lofty retired, Smudger stayed here with me winding down to retirement. Contact has been less and less with people like Tarby, Taggart and the rest.”

“Did Alan Duncan fall out with any of the men who went on these trips?” asked Gus.

“Never,” said Max shaking his head. “If our skipper thought there was friction between anyone in his crew, their feet wouldn’t have touched. You can’t take deep-seated grievances underwater for seventy to ninety days. I guarantee there was no animosity between anyone that went away for a holiday that I went on. I would have reported it as soon as I returned to base. We all would.”

“Did you visit Moscow