Десмонд Бэгли - The Spoilers

‘Vertical integration,’ said Hellier solemnly. ‘These people are taking hints from big business. Complete control of the product.’

‘If this comes off, and they can sew up the States, we can expect an accelerated inflow into Britain. The profits are much less, but they’re still there, and the boys won’t neglect the opportunity.’ Warren gestured with his hand. ‘But this is all rumour. I’ve put it together from a hundred whispers on the grapevine.’

Hellier laid his hands flat on the desk. ‘So now we come to your facts,’ he said intently.

‘I don’t know if you could dignify them by that name,’ said Warren tiredly. ‘Two names and a place. George Speering is a pharmaceutical chemist with a lousy reputation. He got into trouble last year in a drug case, and the Pharmaceutical Society hammered him. He was lucky to escape a jail sentence.’

‘They... er... unfrocked him?’

‘That’s right. This crowd will need a chemist and I heard his name mentioned. He’s still in England and I’m keeping an eye on him as well as I can, but I expect him to go abroad soon.’

‘Why soon? And how soon?’

Warren tapped the desk calendar. ‘The opium crop isn’t in yet, and it won’t be for a month. But morphine is best extracted from fresh opium, so as soon as this gang have enough of the stuff to work on then Speering will get busy.’

‘Perhaps we should keep a closer watch on Speering.’

Warren nodded. ‘He still seems to be taking it pretty easy at the moment. And he’s in funds, so he’s probably on a retainer. I agree he should be watched.’

‘And the other name?’ enquired Hellier.

‘Jeanette Delorme. I’ve never heard of her before. She sounds as though she could be French, but that doesn’t mean much in the Middle East, if that’s where she hangs out. But I don’t even know that. I don’t know anything about her at all. It was just a name that came up in connection with Speering.’

Hellier scribbled on a piece of paper. ‘Jeanette Delorme.’ He looked up. ‘And the place?’

‘Iran,’ said Warren briefly.

Hellier looked disappointed. ‘Well, that’s not much.’

‘I never said it was,’ said Warren irritatedly. ‘I thought of giving it to the police but, after all, what had I to give them?’

‘They could pass it on to Interpol. Maybe they could do something.’

‘You’ve been making too many television pictures,’ said Warren abrasively. ‘And believing them, at that! Interpol is merely an information centre and doesn’t initiate any executive work. Supposing the word was passed to the Iranian police. No police force is incorruptible, and I wouldn’t take any bets at all on the cops in the Middle East — although I hear the Iranians are better than most.’

‘I appreciate your point.’ Hellier was silent for a moment. ‘Our best bet would appear to be this man, Speering.’

‘Then you’re willing to go on with it on the basis of the little information I have?’

Hellier was surprised. ‘Of course!’

Warren took some papers from his file. ‘You might change your mind when you see these. It’s going to cost you a packet. You said I could pick a team. I’ve been making commitments on your behalf which you’ll have to honour.’ He pushed two sheets across the desk. ‘You’ll find the details there — who the men are, what they’ll cost, and some brief biographical details.’

Hellier scanned the papers rapidly and said abruptly, ‘I agree to these rates of pay. I also agree to the bonus of £5,000 paid to each man on the successful completion of the venture.’ He looked up. ‘No success — no bonus. Fair enough?’

‘Fair enough — but it depends on what you mean by success.’

‘I want this gang smashed,’ said Hellier in a harsh voice. ‘Smashed totally.’

Warren said wryly, ‘If we’re going to do anything at all that is implied.’ He pushed another paper across the desk. ‘But we haven’t come to my price.’

Hellier picked it up and, after a moment, said ‘Humph! What the devil do you want with a property in Soho? They come damned expensive.’

Warren explained, with feeling, the trouble the Soho Therapy Centre had run into. Hellier chuckled. ‘Yes, people are damned hypocrites. I’d have probably been the same before... well, never mind that.’ He got up and went to the window. ‘Would a place in Wardour Street do?’

‘That would be fine.’

‘The company has a place just across the road here. We were using it as a warehouse but that’s been discontinued. It’s empty now and a bit run down, but it may suit you.’ He returned to his desk. ‘We were going to sell it, but I’ll let you have it at a peppercorn rent and reimburse the company out of my own funds.’

Warren, who had not yet finished with him, nodded briefly and pushed yet another paper across the desk. ‘And that’s my bonus on the successful completion of the job.’ Ironically he emphasized the operative word in mockery of Hellier.

Hellier glanced at the wording and nearly blew up. ‘A twenty-bedroomed country house ! What the devil’s this?’ He glared at Warren. ‘Your services come high, Doctor.’

‘You asked for blood,’ said Warren. ‘That’s a commodity with a high price. When we go into this we’ll come smack into opposition with a gang who’ll fight because the prize could run into millions. I think there’ll be blood shed somewhere along the line — either ours or theirs. You want the blood — you pay for it.’

‘By making you Lord of the Manor?’ asked Hellier cynically.

‘Not me — a man called Ben Bryan. He wants to establish a self-governing community for addicts; to get them out of circulation to start with, and to get them to act in a responsible manner. It’s an idea which has had fair results in the States.’

‘I see,’ said Hellier quietly. ‘All right; I accept that.’

He began to read the brief biographies of the team, and Warren said casually, ‘None of those people really know what they’re getting into. Suppose we come into possession of, say, a hundred pounds of heroin — that would be worth a lot of money. I don’t know whether I’d trust Andy Tozier with it — probably not. I certainly wouldn’t trust Johnny Follet.’

Hellier turned a page and, after a while, lifted his head. ‘Are you serious about this — about these men you’ve picked? Good God, half of them are villains and the other half incomprehensible.’

‘What kind of men did you expect?’ asked Warren. ‘This can’t be done by a crowd of flag-waving saints. But not one of those men is in it for the money — except Andy Tozier. They all have their own reasons.’ He took a sour look at himself and thought of Follet. ‘I discover I have an unexpected talent for blackmail and coercion.’

‘I can understand you picking Tozier — the professional soldier,’ said Hellier. ‘But Follet — a gambler?’

‘Johnny is a man of many parts. Apart from being a gambler he’s also a successful con man. He can think up ways of pulling money from your pocket faster than you can think up ways of stopping him. It seems to me that his talents could be used on other things than money.’

‘If you put it that way I suppose it seems reasonable,’ said Hellier in an unconvinced voice. ‘But this man, Abbot — a newspaperman, for God’s sake! I won’t have that.’

‘Yes, you will,’ said Warren flatly. ‘He’s on to us, anyway, and I’d rather have him working for us than against us. He was on my original list, but he dealt himself in regardless and it would be too risky to leave him out now. He’s got a good nose, better than any detective, and that’s something we need.’