Алистер Маклин - Floodgate

‘This is a job for a professional. It’s to be set off by remote radio control.’

‘A teenager in his second year in a physics or chemistry lab. Can’t you do it yourselves?’

‘For good reasons we want an expert. The reasons are not for you.’

‘You have the technical data for this radio-controlled device.’

‘A professional needs an instruction book?’

‘Only an amateur would ask a professional such a stupid question. Of course I need an instruction book, as you call it, but it’s not instructions I require. These systems are not difficult if you know how they work. Problem is, there are quite a number of different systems: it’s not instructions I require but data. As far as the device and the control are concerned, I need to know such things as voltage, wattage, wave-length, radio range, type of detonator, the nature of the triggering mechanism, the type of shielding and a few other odds and ends. You have this? The data, I mean?’

‘We have. I shall bring it along tonight.’

‘You will not. I have no wish to give offence, Mr Agnelli, but only a rank amateur would suggest that I start to learn about this device on the spot. I want to be so thoroughly familiarized with the data that I can leave them all behind before I go near the place. I shall want those data at least an hour in advance.’

‘Or no deal?’

‘I wouldn’t insult you by threats or blackmail. I assume that a reasonable man recognizes a reasonable request?’

‘He does. We’ll send it around at, say, six-thirty this evening?’

‘Fine.’ Van Effen paused briefly. ‘Well, well. We have been making diligent enquiries, haven’t we?’

‘It really wasn’t very difficult. We come now to the delicate question of remuneration – although I did promise it would be on a generous scale.’

‘You did mention the possibility of permanent employment?’

‘I did.’

‘Then let’s regard this as a test demonstration. You know, efficiency, reliability, professionalism. If I measure up, let’s then discuss payment for future jobs.’

‘Fair and generous. So fair, in fact, that I feel almost diffident about raising the next delicate point.’

‘I would hate for you to embarrass yourself. Let me raise it for you.’

‘This is more than generous.’

‘My nature. You have given me highly secret and very valuable information for which the police would doubtless reward me handsomely.’ Van Effen knew from Agnelli’s brief frown then renewed smile that he had indeed guessed correctly. ‘I shall not be giving this information to the police. Reasons? One, I am not a double-crosser. Two, I don’t like the police and they don’t like me – I don’t want to be within a long distance of any policemen. Three. Purely selfish and financial – I am certain I can make a great deal more money from working for you on several occasions than I can from betraying you once. Four, I do not wish to spend the rest of my life with a hit man or hit men only one step behind.’ Agnelli was smiling very broadly now. ‘The fifth is the most compelling reason. From what you have just told me you obviously have informers, contacts inside the palace who would immediately alert you to the presence of the police. As there could and would be only one person who could have betrayed you I could, possibly, be summarily disposed of, although I think you would find it much more elegant to turn me over to the police and suggest that they have a look at extradition requests from Poland and the United States. I think I would prefer the States – I might at least get a semblance of a fair trial there. I am not wanted, of course, under the name of Danilov: but the description of villains is usually pretty thorough and there can’t be many wanted men going round with a facial scar and a ruined left hand like mine. You can understand, Mr Agnelli, why I shall be giving the police a very wide berth indeed.’

‘I must say that you and the law don’t appear to have a great deal in common. Thank you, Mr Danilov, for having done my delicate task for me. That was exactly what I did have in mind. I am quite sure that you are going to be a very valuable member of our team.’

‘I can be trusted, you think?’

‘Unquestionably.’

‘Then I am doubly honoured.’ Agnelli raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘I didn’t have to remove the magazines from my guns today.’

Agnelli smiled, stood, shook hands and left with his two companions. Van Effen went to the office, listened to the playback of the recording, expressed his satisfaction and thanks to Henri, pocketed the tape and left.

As had now become his custom, van Effen parked his car at the rear of the Trianon but entered by the front door. A nondescript little man, seemingly engrossed in a newspaper, was seated close by the desk. Van Effen spoke to the man behind it.

‘I’d like a menu, please.’ He paid no attention to the seated man. ‘Thank you.’ He ticked off some items on the menu. ‘I’ll have that, that and that. And a bottle of burgundy. In my room at twelve-thirty please. After that I don’t want to be disturbed – so no phone calls, please. I’d be glad if you would give me a wake-up call at four o’clock.’

Van Effen took the lift to the first floor, walked down the stairs and peered cautiously round the corner. The little man had gone. He went across to the desk.

‘I see you’ve lost a valued customer, Charles.’

‘Hardly valued, Lieutenant. He drinks one tiny jonge jenever once every hour or so. That’s his third time here since last night. He is rather obvious, isn’t he?’

‘He doesn’t seem to think so. Will you cancel my lunch, Charles?’

Charles smiled. ‘Already cancelled.’

Van Effen left the Trianon a few minutes later, his appearance returned to normal.

‘Well,’ van Effen said, ‘were you worried stiff about me?’

‘Of course not,’ Julie said. ‘You told us there was nothing to worry about.’

‘Liar. You, too.’

‘Me?’ Annemarie said. ‘I haven’t said a word yet.’

‘You were about to. Your concern is perfectly understandable. A jonge jenever, large. The very jaws of death, I tell you.’

‘Tell us about brave Daniel,’ Julie said.

‘In a moment. First of all, I must phone the Colonel. He will be consumed with anxiety about his trusty lieutenant.’

‘It’s twelve-thirty,’ Julie said. ‘If I know the Colonel his only concern now is what aperitif he’s going to have before lunch.’

‘You do him an injustice. And, incidentally, me.’ He took the drink from his sister. ‘May I use your bedroom?’

‘Of course.’

Annemarie said: ‘I thought –’

‘There’s a phone there.’

‘Ah. State secrets.’

‘Not at all. Come along. Both of you. It’ll save me from having to repeat myself.’

He sat down on Julie’s bed, opened a bedside cupboard and extracted a phone. Annemarie said: ‘That’s a curious-looking instrument.’

‘Scrambler phone. Any eavesdropper who is locked into your telephone hears only garbled nonsense. A device at the recipient’s end works in reverse and makes the jumble intelligible again. Much used by secret services and the better class of spy. Very popular with criminals, too. The original connection was to my apartment but I can also call de Graaf on it.’

He got through immediately. ‘Good morning, Colonel…No, I have not been attacked, kidnapped, tortured, assassinated or otherwise set upon…Quite the contrary. Positively cordial…No, there was a newcomer. Romero Agnelli’s brother. Genial mafia-type, quite friendly, really, rejoicing in the name of Leonardo Agnelli…Yes, it is rather splendid, isn’t it, and yes, we’ve made some arrangements. I am engaged to blow up the royal palace at eight p.m.…No, sir, I do not jest.’ He covered the mouthpiece and looked at the two startled, wide-eyed girls. ‘I think the Colonel’s drink has gone down the wrong way. Yes, sir, amatol. Triggered by a remote-controlled radio device, details of which I shall be receiving this evening…Certainly I intend to do it. They’re depending on me…No, it’s deep in the cellars. There will be no loss of life…Very well.’