Дональд Джеймс - The House of Eros

‘But anything we can do to that end…’ Hand persisted, ‘propaganda… whatever…’

‘We don’t do,’ Cy Stevenson said firmly. ‘You have to trust us on this one, Hector. Many of the people we bribe wouldn’t touch the money if they thought our real object was subversion. They are intensely proud and patriotic people. Proud of the government they’ve got. As it happens it’s a Communist government. We can’t change that, Hector. We’re not trying to.’

‘Let’s move on, please,’ Colonel Savary said. ‘I repeat, I’m a new boy.’ His face creased in concern. ‘But I must say that I had no idea, when Helen first approached me, of the proportion of the fund allocated to clandestine purposes. Almost a million dollars a year. How is this money distributed?’

‘The bulk of the money is transferred from our own bank here in Meyerick to a Swiss numbered account,’ Cy said.

The colonel looked alarmed. ‘Just that? Is that all the trustees have the right to know?’

‘Now, George,’ Arne Anderson said, ‘we have the absolute right on this committee to know as much or as little as we choose.’

‘You mean not all committee members know all the details?’

‘Need to know, is our guiding principle,’ Gus Anderson said. ‘We haven’t thought it necessary.’

Colonel Savary flushed. ‘How many members of this committee do know who is the account holder in Switzerland?’

‘I do,’ Oliver Digweed said. ‘Myself, Mary, Mrs Rose and Cy of course.’

‘But not the other members.’

‘Frankly I don’t see the need to know,’ Fin Butler said. ‘Unless of course we are questioning the integrity of Cy or Ollie here or indeed,’ he raised his eyebrows, ‘of Mrs Rose.’

‘This is not a light matter,’ Mary interjected. ‘Colonel Savary, George, has a genuine concern. He was clearly not aware that he was being asked to join the Fund Committee under these conditions. And of course in fairness to Cy and Ollie, he couldn’t really be told in advance.’

Mary Butler had always taken her duties as a trustee very seriously. It was in the public service tradition she had been brought up in. When Philip Rose had first returned from a factfinding visit to Vietnam and proposed the fund, Mary had been in enthusiastic agreement. Philip, herself and Mrs Rose had comprised the first committee of what was then a tiny fund collecting money mostly from members of the Meyerick Club.

Of course Philip Rose would hardly recognise the Fund now. It was astonishing, Mary thought, watching Cy across the table, how quickly he had established himself. For a while he was seen by others in the county too as something of an adventurer. He was known to be without money of his own and there were the inevitable mutterings that he had simply married Sunny for her inheritance.

But the rumours had died quickly. Cy was popular, especially with the women of Meyerick, and had soon shown himself willing and able to take on the sort of organisational work the community always needed. The Fund, headless after the death of Philip Rose, needed someone like Cy. Fin Butler had argued strongly that he should be appointed chairman. Mary had finally agreed. For some months Mrs Rose held out but in the end she too had reluctantly agreed. Because of her part in promoting Cy, Mary felt a special responsibility to the fund. Sometimes she worried about the gigantic growth in income Cy had generated in less than a decade. Sometimes, too, she worried about the annual clandestine payments they made, although everybody who had ever been to Vietnam said Cy was right that bribery made the world go round there. Nevertheless she understood George Savary’s concern on hearing about the secret account.

‘If I might usurp Cy’s role for a moment,’ Mary said, ‘I think the whole committee would fully understand and sympathise with George if he felt he could not continue.’ There were supporting murmurs from round the table.

‘No,’ Colonel Savary said with a touch of stubbornness, ‘I don’t wish to resign. I’m not calling anybody’s integrity into question. But I do feel I should know who is the recipient of this large sum and how exactly it works for us. I was in Vietnam myself, not as long as Cy was, of course, but over a year. My estimate of the people is that they are polite and tough and above all corrupt. I’m just asking who are we paying and how do we know we are getting value for money.’

Fin Butler looked at Stevenson. ‘Perhaps it’s time, Cy, that we all knew more.’

‘Sure…’ Cy Stevenson nodded. ‘I agree with Fin. Perhaps it’s time the committee as a whole knew. On reflection I can’t see how we can take corporate responsibility otherwise.’ He poured himself a drink and smiled across the table at Mary. ‘My third or fourth time in Vietnam,’ Cy began, ‘I met a merchant in Saigon. Forget now exactly where but I had seen him in a number of bars up and down the Rue Catinat before we actually spoke. Strange man, very frenchified. Well I was a young man at the time but I wasn’t that new to Vietnam. When we got talking he gave me a tip or two. You know, where the action might be taking place.’

‘How did he know?’ the colonel said suspiciously.

Stevenson laughed. ‘He knew because he was a member of the Vietcong political committee for what they called occupied Saigon. For all I know he might have been the head of the committee.’

‘You mean he was spying.’ Jason Rose said.

‘Yep. He was spying.’

‘What did you do, Cy?’ Fin Butler said.

‘As soon as I realised, which was pretty soon, I went to Saigon Intelligence Center and told them what I knew.’

‘What did they say?’ Hector Hand leaned forward, unable to guess how Cy might be vindicated.

‘They said, go mind your own business. They said they knew all about this guy. They even implied he worked for them.’

‘Did he?’

‘Like most people there he probably did deals.’

Colonel Savary shook his head in disapproval, but of what – the US Army Intelligence, the Rue Catinat or himself, Cy Stevenson – was not clear.

‘That was the way things were there, colonel, my man is now provincial administrator of Cahn Roc.’

‘The seaboard province?’ Savary said.

Cy nodded. ‘The province through which, since we began our operation, more refugees have passed than through most of the rest of Vietnam put together . ’

‘When did you propose the deal to him?’ Fin Butler said, frowning.

‘I met him in Geneva,’ Stevenson said. ‘Just after I became Chairman of the Fund I attended an aid conference. I remember I looked up and saw my former friend. He waddled across and was his own affable self.’

‘Is that when you made the arrangement?’ Hector Hand asked.

‘No. But that’s when the idea was broached. By him of course. The deal was made when Ollie Digweed and I went back to Geneva at his invitation.’

‘What was the deal?’ Fin said. ‘I mean exactly.’

Stevenson waved his arm. ‘Of course there was no way of keeping him to the details, there was no fine print you understand. But essentially for the money he guaranteed the coastguard be kept sweet. He guaranteed the police would look in the other direction. Substantially of course. There had to be some token arrests. But we have reason to believe that even those are small in number.’

‘OK,’ Fin said.

The colonel’s face was shadowed with doubt. ‘I know the world over there is not as we see it from here.’

The men and women round the oval table were silent. Cy raised his glass. ‘From this seat, the way I see it is that we raise our glasses to Monsieur Quatch.’

‘And,’ Mary Butler said, ‘to Cy Stevenson.’ There was a discreet round of applause and glasses were raised.