Eric Ambler - Journey Into Fear

Graham flushed. “I gather from your tone that you know perfectly well that the matter could not be dealt with so simply. I was forbidden, in any case, to put certain things on paper.”

Colonel Haki tilted his chair. “Yes, Mr. Graham,”-he smiled cheerfully-“I do know that. Another expert would have to be sent out to do some of your work over again.” His chair came forward with a crash. “And meanwhile,” he said through his teeth, “the spring would be here and those ships would still be lying in the dockyards of Izmir and Gallipoli, waiting for their new guns and torpedo tubes. Listen to me, Mr. Graham! Turkey and Great Britain are allies. It is in the interests of your country’s enemies that, when the snow melts and the rain ceases, Turkish naval strength should be exactly what it is now. Exactly what it is now! They will do anything to see that it is so. Anything , Mr. Graham! Do you understand?”

Graham felt something tightening in his chest. He had to force himself to smile. “A little melodramatic, aren’t you? We have no proof that what you say is true. And, after all, this is real life, not …” He hesitated.

“Not what, Mr. Graham?” The Colonel was watching him like a cat about to streak after a mouse.

“… the cinema, I was going to say, only it sounded a little impolite.”

Colonel Haki stood up quickly. “Melodrama! Proof! Real life! The cinema! Impolite!” His lips curled round the words as if they were obscene. “Do you think I care what you say, Mr. Graham? It’s your carcass I am inter ested in. Alive, it’s worth something to the Turkish Republic. I’m going to see that it stays alive as long as I’ve any control over it. There is a war on in Europe. Do you understand that ?”

Graham said nothing.

The Colonel stared at him for a moment and then went on quietly. “A little more than a week ago, while you were still in Gallipoli, we discovered-that is, my agents discovered-a plot to murder you there. The whole thing was very clumsy and amateurish. You were to be kidnapped and knifed. Fortunately, we are not fools. We do not dismiss as melodramatic anything that does not please us. We were able to persuade the arrested men to tell us that they had been paid by a German agent in Sofia-a man named Moeller about whom we have known for some time. He used to call himself an American until the American Legation objected. His name was Fielding then. I imagine that he claims any name and nationality that happens to suit him. However, I called Mr. Kopeikin in to see me and told him about it but suggested that nothing should be said about it to you. The less these things are talked about the better and, besides, there was nothing to be gained by upsetting you while you were so hard at work. I think I made a mistake. I had reason to believe that this Moeller’s further efforts would be directed elsewhere. When Mr. Kopeikin, very wisely, telephoned me immediately he knew of this fresh attempt, I realised that I had underestimated the determination of this gentleman in Sofia. He tried again. I have no doubt that he will try a third time if we give him a chance.” He leaned back in his chair. “Do you understand now, Mr. Graham? Has your excellent brain grasped what I have been trying to say? It is perfectly simple! Someone is trying to kill you.”

On the rare occasions-when matters concerned with insurance policies had been under consideration-on which Graham had thought about his own death, it had been to reaffirm the conviction that he would die of natural causes and in bed. Accidents did happen, of course; but he was a careful driver, an imaginative pedestrian and a strong swimmer; he neither rode horses nor climbed mountains; he was not subject to attacks of dizziness; he did not hunt big game and he had never had even the smallest desire to jump in front of an approaching train. He had felt, on the whole, that the conviction was not unreasonable. The idea that anyone else in the world might so much as hope for his death had never occurred to him. If it had done so he would probably have hastened to consult a nerve specialist. Confronted by the proposition that someone was, in fact, not merely hoping for his death but deliberately trying to murder him, he was as profoundly shocked as if he had been presented with incontrovertible proofs that a 2no longer equalled b 2+ c 2or that his wife had a lover.

He was a man who had always been inclined to think well of his fellow creatures; and the first involuntary thought that came into his head was that he must have done something particularly reprehensible for anyone to want to murder him. The mere fact that he was doing his job could not be sufficient reason. He was not dangerous. Besides, he had a wife dependent on him. It was impossible that anyone should wish to kill him. There must be some horrible mistake.

He heard himself saying: “Yes. I understand.”

He didn’t understand, of course. It was absurd. He saw Colonel Haki looking at him with a frosty little smile on his small mouth.

“A shock, Mr. Graham? You do not like it, eh? It is not pleasant. War is war. But it is one thing to be a soldier in the trenches: the enemy is not trying to kill you in particular because you are Mr. Graham: the man next to you will do as well: it is all impersonal. When you are a marked man it is not so easy to keep your courage. I understand, believe me. But you have advantages over the soldier. You have only to defend yourself. You do not have to go into the open and attack. And you have no trench or fort to hold. You may run away without being a coward. You must reach London safely. But it is a long way from Istanbul to London. You must, like the soldier, take precautions against surprise. You must know your enemy. You follow me?”

“Yes. I follow you.”

His brain was icily calm now, but it seemed to have lost control of his body. He knew that he must try to look as if he were taking it all very philosophically, but his mouth kept filling with saliva, so that he was swallowing repeatedly, and his hands and legs were trembling. He told himself that he was behaving like a schoolboy. A man had fired three shots at him. What difference did it make whether the man had been a thief or an intending murderer? He had fired three shots, and that was that. But all the same, it did somehow make a difference …

“Then,” Colonel Haki was saying, “let us begin with what has just happened.” He was obviously enjoying himself. “According to Mr. Kopeikin, you did not see the man who shot at you.”

“No, I didn’t. The room was in darkness.”

Kopeikin chipped in. “He left cartridge cases behind him. Nine millimetre calibre ejected from a self-loading pistol.”

“That does not help a great deal. You noticed nothing about him, Mr. Graham?”

“Nothing, I’m afraid. It was all over so quickly. He had gone before I realised it.”

“But he had probably been in the room for some time waiting for you. You didn’t notice any perfume in the room?”

“All I could smell was cordite.”

“What time did you arrive in Istanbul?”

“At about six p.m.”

“And you did not return to your hotel until three o’clock this morning. Please tell me where you were during that time.”

“Certainly. I spent the time with Kopeikin. He met me at the station, and we drove in a taxi to the Adler-Palace, where I left my suitcase and had a wash. We then had some drinks and dined. Where did we have the drinks, Kopeikin?”

“At the Rumca Bar.”

“Yes, that was it. We went on to the Pera Palace to dine. Just before eleven we left there, and went on to Le Jockey Cabaret.”

“Le Jockey Cabaret! You surprise me! What did you do there?”