“Your father said you are a good man. That you would do the right thing with all this. He said you are a scuba diver, and I need someone to dive down and retrieve what went down with Surcouf more than sixty years ago.”

“Are you saying you saw the Surcouf sink?” Riley asked.

“Oh yes,” the old man said with a broad smile that revealed several gaps where teeth should have been. The colored patch of skin on his cheek darkened. “I nearly went down with her.”

At first Cole wasn’t sure he had heard the man right. He set his coffee cup down on the small table. “You mean you were supposed to be on board for her fatal trip?”

“No, I was on board. I was the signalman on Surcouf’s last voyage, and I saw her go down.” He chuckled, then added, “From very close range.”

Cole started to speak but he didn’t know what to say. He felt Riley’s hand slip into his.

The old man continued to laugh. “You are very much like your father. He had the same reaction. He did not believe me at first.” Henri pointed to the coin hanging at Cole’s neck. “It was only when I produced that coin that he changed his mind.”

Cole reached for the coin and rubbed it with his thumb. “You gave him this?”

The old man nodded.

Cole struggled to wrap his brain around the idea that the man sitting before him had served aboard Surcouf. There was so much he wanted to know. But he knew that Diggory Priest was using every asset available to him to locate them. They didn’t have time for pleasantries. “Henri, this man who is looking for us right now. He wants something that is on Surcouf. We’re running out of time.”

“It will be easier if I tell you the story of that last day at sea. Then you will understand. I will make it as brief as I can.”

Cole saw Riley glance at her watch. But, from his many years of diving on wrecks, he knew how valuable it could be to know the events of that last day when he entered the wreck on the sea floor. Henri might be able to tell him exactly where to find what he was looking for.

“It was in February of 1942 and we had been at sea for five days. The men mutinied when we left Bermuda.” The old man told them the story of the bomb on board.

“Bomb?” Cole said.

“Cole,” Riley said, “let him tell it.”

“Yes,” the old man continued, “you see, they didn’t trust us. The Allies, that is. France had surrendered to the Nazis, and there were always rumors that Surcouf was refueling German U-boats and crewed by Nazi sympathizers. But the crew were not traitors; we were simply a bunch of French boys who were rounded up in London to crew the big sub. We had little training. There were three English on Surcouf when we left Bermuda, but on that last day, only one remained.”

“What happened?” Cole asked.

“That is a story for another day. Lieutenant Gerald Woolsey was the one who set the bomb. Woolsey told me the Allies no longer wanted to pay for the upkeep on this submarine with the Pacific war opening up. They wanted the world to think she was the victim of a Nazi U-Boat. He said he was only following orders. Woolsey was to set the bomb before we sailed and then leave with his secret documents. But the mutiny changed all that.”

The old man coughed a chest-rattling phlegmy cough, then reached for a glass of water and took a long drink. He set the water glass back down on the little table. “It was my job to bring food and drink to our English prisoner. During that last day, Woolsey told me about going to university in America and becoming a part of a secret organization. He said these men like war — not to fight, but to make money. He told me there were very secret papers in a diplomatic pouch in the safe in the radio room, and the Allies would sink Surcouf before letting them go to the Vichy government. Woolsey said these men had so much money and power, we could not hide Surcouf from them. He said they would come for us, and he was right. I took Woolsey to the captain, then retrieved the pouch. On the papers, I read the words Operation Magic. They were top secret decoded messages. When he read them, it was clear even Woolsey was shocked.”

The old man was trying to speak fast but his voice was growing hoarse. Henri took another drink. “A sailor came in then and told us that planes were coming.”

“What happened?”

“Everyone ran topsides. The captain told me to secure the documents. I took the waterproof bag from the lieutenant. He had already resealed it. I put it in the steel strongbox and placed the box in the bottom drawer of the captain’s desk.

“On the bridge, the Lieutenant explained the signals to me. We tried to signal the planes, but it was no good. They started shooting. I was resending my signals when I heard Woolsey call my name. I turned and saw I was alone on the bridge. Water was rising. Woolsey closed the hatch. I ran to it, screamed and pounded. In my pocket I had my knife, and I used it to beat on the metal hatch. I begged him to let me in.” The old man licked his lips before he continued. “The water came up around me, rushed up over me. Even under water I heard the planes roar overhead. I held on. The pressure of the water threatened to force my mouth open. I felt myself being dragged deeper.”

Henri took a deep breath. “So I let go. The turbulence spun me around and I nearly drowned. Then I saw the sunlight shining down through the water, and I swam towards the light.”

“They left you to drown?” Riley asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s awful, Henri.”

 “In reality, they saved my life. When I surfaced, I saw the planes tilting up in a wide turn. They came back over the path where Surcouf ran beneath the surface. I saw the small black shapes falling. They were one kilometer away when I heard the first explosion, saw the great upwelling of water and the fuel slick. Debris erupted at the surface along with many bodies, some men still moving, trying to swim. They waved their arms in the air, and I could hear their voices pleading for help.

“The American planes turned in another slow arc. They came back, their machine guns firing into the water, into the survivors. After that, nothing moved. I kept very still and they never spotted me. If I’d made it inside that hatch, I would have died with them.

“Once the planes were gone, I swam to the wreck site. The water was full of sharks tearing into the bodies. I expected to be eaten at any second. I found a piece of wood and began swimming toward the closest island which I now know is one of a group called Îles de la Petite Terre. I do not know why the sharks left me alone. Perhaps because there was so much food.

“When I reached the island, it was night and I was exhausted and cold. I spent three days on that island. I was near death when a fisherman found me. He was from Dominica and he took me home. He knew I was a sailor, but he kept my identity secret. Later, I married his daughter, and we told everyone my name was Jules and I came from Guadeloupe.” Henri’s body shook again as he struggled to cough up the fluid in his chest.

The young woman came out the back door and brought a wood box to Henri. Then she turned to Cole. “If you please, my great-grandfather is tiring.”

Cole nodded and stood. “That’s quite a story. Thank you so much, Henri.”

Henri raised a hand like a traffic cop. “The papers are most important. It is possible they are still in the captain’s cabin. But there is something else.” He pointed to the coin Cole wore. A mischievous smile played around his wet lips. “I took five of those from the hold the last time I visited Woolsey. There is more, much more. Through the years, I melted down four of them and sold the gold. The gold from those four fed my family for many months.” Cole saw the old man’s body tense as he struggled to quell another threatening cough. His voice was barely a whisper when he said, “I wanted more, but I was always too frightened to search for it. Didn’t want anyone to come searching for me. I spent my whole life in hiding. Then I told your father my story, and you see what happened to him.”