Роберт Фиш - The Wager

“It was lobster thermidor, and it’s the truth, sir! Honest! Wilkinson will verify it. Ask him if I didn’t tell him to have the shrimp—”

“And as a result of these changes in my instructions,” the cold voice went on accusingly, “the carving has been stolen and in my estimation you think you can satisfy your overweening ambition by catching this man Huuygens trying to bring it through Customs.” The sniff from Washington was audible on the line. “And you want me to believe you did not purposely allow that robbery to take place? You must take me for a fool.”

“Oh, no, sir—”

“Don’t interrupt!”

“I thought you were through, sir—”

“Jamison! Jamison, do you realize what could happen if State ever got involved in this? Can you imagine the repercussions here in Washington if the story came out? Practically perpetrating a burglary against a friendly nation?”

“Honest, sir! I swear! On my life! On— on—” Jamison searched frantically and finally came up with the answer. “On the honor of the Department, sir.” It was said with simple dignity.

That was a show-stopper. There was a long pause. “Well; if you want me to believe it was just sheer stupidity on your part...”

“Oh, yes, sir! Please let me stay on the case and finish it!” Jamison put the full weight of his sincerity on the line. “Sir, I’m positive that Huuygens has the carving and will try to bring it into the States. Let me catch him at it. Please, sir?”

There were several moments of contemplation on the part of the man in Washington; then his gigantic sigh could be heard again. Jamison could almost see the other scratching himself in contemplation.

“It’s true we’re short of capable men,” the man in Washington said at last. “And I suppose it would be a feather in our caps if we were to bring this Huuygens to his heels...” A decision was reached with the rapidity and solid thinking that comes from true Washington executive ability once minds are made up. “All right! Stay with it!”

“Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!”

“Don’t slobber. And don’t thank me, just bring it off. Now, what are your plans?”

“Well, sir,” Jamison said, almost as if he had given much thought to the matter, “I don’t think there is any doubt that Huuygens will be in touch with Girard again. Now, if we get in touch with that bodyguard and tell him this time to pay attention—”

Washington interrupted. “Our computers already thought of that. Unfortunately, the man seems to have gotten into an argument with somebody in an alley the other night. At the moment he’s in the hospital with a broken arm and several cracked ribs.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he wasn’t the only one to suffer in the affair, Jamison thought; somehow it made his jaw ache less. “Then I suppose I’ll have to pick up the ship again—”

“Ship?”

“The MV Andropolis , sir. It docks tomorrow here in Barbados. I’m sure Huuygens had a very good reason for coming on the cruise, rather than coming down here by air, and I intend to find out what it is. I’m sure it has something to do with his plan on smuggling the carving past us in New York!”

“You think he’ll go back to the ship? To the whatever-it-is? Why would he join it in Barbados when he didn’t rejoin it before in any of the other ports? San Juan, or St. Thomas?”

“The carving hadn’t been stolen before,” Jamison said craftily. “I’m sure he’ll join the ship here.” He thought of a further argument. “And he left three suits and his luggage on board, and—”

“And a toothbrush. I know. But just to be sure, I’ll notify the airport personnel to be on the watch for him.”

“Oh, he’ll be on the ship, sir.”

“I hope you’re right,” said the man in Washington, “and I hope you catch him with the goods, because if you don’t, then the past two weeks are going to come out of your accumulated vacation time.” He thought a moment. Jamison could see the thin fingers reaching for the pencil again. “I’m not sure about the expenses. How much money do you have in your retirement fund?”

“It won’t come to that, sir. Don’t worry. We’ll nail him!”

“I sincerely suggest you do.” The other voice was frosty, “For your own sake.” The number in Washington hung up.

Jamison placed the receiver back in its cradle and stared at the telephone triumphantly. Not only hadn’t the confrontation been nearly as bad as others in the past — actually, in comparison to the last time, his superior had almost seemed jovial — but the opportunity of a lifetime had just been presented to him. To be the man who finally caught Kek Huuygens with the goods! The name Jamison would become a household word among Customs officials throughout the world. He might even get a raise in grade. He rubbed his painful jaw; it would even be worth the beatings he had taken at the hands of those two maniacs to bring Huuygens, at long last, to justice! Not only an international smuggler, but a man who had left him to be manhandled by a young bruiser in Fort Lauderdale. Jamison twisted his lip aristocratically. The fact was that this Huuygens wasn’t even a gentleman!

Oddly enough, to the profit of ITT and to the confusion of those who do not believe in coincidence, at the same time that Ralph Jamison was speaking with his superior, Kek Huuygens was also making a telephone call to the United States. There, however, the comparison ceased, for Huuygens was calling New York City, rather than Washington, and while he waited for his call to be completed he did not worry at all. Instead, he watched André model a newly purchased wardrobe to augment the meager amount of apparel with which he had come to the islands. Since neither Bajans nor tourists were anywhere near as outsized as André, the selection had been quite limited, and the shirt he was now displaying would have frightened a designer of Hawaiian patterns. André considered his image in the mirror, smiled his approval, and stripped it off to replace it with one equally exotic. Kek returned his attention to the telephone, which was making noises.

The familiar “Allô!” came on the line.

“Good afternoon,” Kek said pleasantly. “This is—”

The raspy voice contained anger. “I know who you are! What took you so long calling? The papers—”

“Ah, yes, the papers,” Kek interjected smoothly. “You will be pleased to know that all the papers have been signed, M’sieu.” The idiot, Girard! Was he attempting to advertise their part in the burglary? “The transaction is complete, M’sieu.”

Girard recognized his near-error and dropped his voice, but his irritation could still be heard. “Still, why the delay in informing me?”

“Completing the purchase was no simple matter, M’sieu. The bargaining took most of the night. Then there was the matter of sleep, and a few other chores we wished to do—”

“ We ?”

“Your salesman and myself, M’sieu.”

“But I thought you wanted no contact with him?”

“As I remarked the last time we spoke, when I saw your salesman I recognized him at once. He is a man of great talents, M’sieu, possibly even meriting a bonus. And now that I find he is returning on the same ship as myself—”

There was a subtle change in Girard’s voice.

“I want to speak to you about that. I strongly suggest you do not return on that ship. You, I mean.” One could almost hear the shrug come into the harsh voice. “How the other returns is unimportant. His money is waiting for him here.”

“But—”

“Please, M’sieu. Let me speak. Do you remember your curiosity as to how anyone might know we were bidding on that particular item? And might be keeping an eye on you to — ah, possibly outbid us?”