Алистер Маклин - Floodgate

‘Very pleased to meet you again, Mr Danilov,’ Agnelli said. ‘Helmut, of course, you know.’ Paderiwski didn’t offer to shake hands. ‘And this is my brother, Leonardo.’

Leonardo Agnelli did offer to shake hands. He bore no resemblance to his brother. He was short, squat and had black beetling brows. The brows in themselves meant nothing, he’d just been born that way: in his own ugly way he seemed just as harmless as his brother, which again, of course, meant nothing. Introductions over, van Effen sat down. Agnelli and the other two men remained standing.

Agnelli said: ‘This is your favourite booth, Mr Danilov?’

Van Effen looked slightly puzzled. ‘I don’t have a favourite booth. This is – well, it’s just the one furthest away from the rest of the customers. I thought you might appreciate the privacy.’

‘We do, we do. But would you mind if we went to another?’

Van Effen gave them some more of the same puzzled frown. ‘Not at all. But I think I’m entitled to know why. Stop! I have it. The concealed microphone. A splendid basis for mutual trust.’ He appeared to think briefly. ‘Might have done the same myself.’

‘You’re an explosives expert.’ Agnelli sounded apologetic. ‘Such people usually – always, I believe – have a considerable knowledge of electronics.’

Van Effen smiled, stood, moved out into the aisle and waved a hand toward the empty booth. ‘A thousand guilders to the first man to find the concealed microphone which I’ve just spent hours installing under the fascinated gaze of the proprietor and his customers. A thousand guilders for a few seconds’ work. I have a generous nature.’

Agnelli laughed. ‘In that case, I don’t think we need bother to move.’ He sat and gestured that the other two should do the same. ‘Not joining us, Mr Danilov?’

‘When I’m talking I –’

‘Of course. I think we’ll all have beer.’

Van Effen ordered, sat and said: ‘Well, gentlemen, to the point.’

‘Certainly.’ Agnelli smiled. ‘That’s the way I prefer it. We have reported to our leader and he seems to approve our choice.’

‘I had hoped to see him here this morning.’

‘You’ll see him tonight. At the Dam Square. The royal palace, to be precise, part of which, with your expert assistance, we intend to blow up tonight.’

‘What!’ Van Effen spilled some of the beer which he had just picked up. ‘The royal palace! You did say the royal palace?’

‘I did.’

‘You’re mad. You’re quite mad.’ Van Effen spoke with simple conviction.

‘We don’t think so. Nor are we joking. Will you do it?’

‘I’ll be damned if I will.’

Agnelli smiled his easy smile. ‘You have been overcome by a bout of righteousness? A law-abiding upholder of justice and the straight and narrow path?’

‘None of those things, I must admit. But you must understand that although I operate mainly outside the law and have a past that wouldn’t bear rigorous examination, in fact, any kind of examination, I’m a pretty normal citizen in most ways. I’ve come to like the Dutch, and, although I don’t know them from Adam, I’ve come to respect, even admire, their royal family.’

‘Your sentiments do you credit, Mr Danilov. Believe me, I share them. But I hardly think those are your real reasons for refusing. You said yesterday afternoon that you would not become involved in any operation where there might arise even the danger of risk to limb, far less to life. Is that not so?’ Van Effen nodded. ‘I assure you no such risk will arise tonight.’

‘Then you just want to cause a harmless explosion inside the palace –’

‘Precisely.’

‘And why in heaven’s name should you want to cause a harmless explosion inside the palace?’

‘You are not to concern yourself with that. It is, as you may well guess, a purely psychological gesture.’

‘How am I to know it will be harmless?’

‘You’ll be able to satisfy yourself on this score when you get there. The explosion will take place inside an empty cellar. There are empty cellars on either side of it. All four doors are lockable and we will remove the keys after they have been locked. There are also empty cellars above. There is absolutely no danger to anyone involved.’

‘There’s danger to us. The palace is heavily guarded. Word has it that the guards are likely to ask questions of an intruder after they’ve shot him dead. My aversion to people getting killed includes myself.’

‘Please, Mr Danilov. We are not simple-minded. Do I look like a person who would embark upon an operation like this without every detail being meticulously planned in detail beforehand?’

‘I’ll grant that. You don’t.’

‘Then you may rest assured that we will encounter no trouble. As an additional assurance, both our leader and I will be there with you. We have no more ambition to end up in durance vile than you have.’

‘Maybe your records are not so unblemished either.’

‘Unblemished or not, it would go hard with anyone caught with explosives within the precincts of the palace.’

‘Very neat.’ Van Effen sounded sour. ‘So now you know I have a record whereas I don’t know whether you have or not.’

‘It hardly matters, does it?’

‘If it does, it escapes me at the moment. It’ll probably come to me when it’s too late. What’s this bomb like?’

‘I’m not sure.’ Agnelli smiled. Van Effen had practically committed himself. ‘I’m not an explosives expert. Such talents as I have lie elsewhere, more in the organizing field, shall we say. I understand that it weighs three or four kilos and is made of some material called amatol.’

‘What are the cellars made of?’

‘Made of? You mean the walls?’

‘What else could I mean?’

‘I really couldn’t tell you.’

‘I don’t suppose it matters. I was just trying to figure the blast effect. If the cellars are deep and have –’

‘Those cellars are very deep.’

‘So. And with the palace on top they’ll have to support a very considerable weight. I don’t know how old this particular part of the palace may be, I know nothing about the palace, but the walls would have to be pretty stoutly built. Reinforced concrete is unlikely. Dressed stone, I should guess, and of a considerable thickness. Your little firework is hardly likely to dent them. All the people in the palace will be aware of is a slight shake, if that, a tremor that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows at the nearest seismographic station, wherever that may be. As for the sound factor, it would be negligible.’

‘Are you sure?’ Agnelli’s tone was unaccustomedly sharp.

‘If my assumptions are correct, and I see no reason why they shouldn’t be, then I’m sure.’

‘No loud bang?’

‘They wouldn’t hear it in the palace drawing-rooms, far less out in the Dam Square.’

‘How could one ensure that it is heard?’

‘Bring along enough spare amatol, let me have a look at the walls and I’ll tell you. Tell me, is it your intention just to leave the explosive there, lock the doors, throw away the keys – it will have occurred to you, of course, that there will be duplicates?’

‘These we have.’

‘And arrange for the bang after you’re clear of the palace?’ Agnelli nodded. ‘Then why on earth do you want me for a simple job like this? I’ve little enough in the way of conscience but I’d feel downright guilty taking money for a job like this. A young teenager in his first year in a physics or chemistry lab could do this. All you require is a battery, any old alarm clock, some household flex, a fulminate of mercury detonator, a primer and you’re off. Even simpler, all you require is a length of slow-burning RDX fuse. What you don’t want is an explosives expert – me. It’s a matter, Mr Agnelli, of professional pride.’