Stan Mason - Stopping World War Three

‘I see you found the spare key over the door,’ he commented smoothly, apparently oblivious of Penny’s demise.

‘What are you doing here, Primar?’ I demanded coldly.

‘I could ask the same of you, old boy,’ he returned casually, sniffing the pungent air and turning up his nose. ‘From the look of it I would say you’re trying to hide a body.

‘As if you didn’t know!’ I snarled angrily. ‘Did you kill her?’

He walked past me and lifted the blanket to see the body. ‘Pity,’ he uttered softly. ‘She was such a beautiful woman.’

‘And you know nothing about her death!’ I challenged.

‘Why should I?’

I turned him round to face me. ‘I suppose you came here because you happened to be passing by!’

He chewed on the toothpick thoughtfully. ‘I came here because we work for the same organisation… and she hadn’t contacted me for two days.’

‘I didn’t know you had such close contact. The last I remember you were going to slit her throat in Israel! Now why should I believe anything you tell me about you and the 21st Century Crusaders?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he snapped. ‘I’m not talking about the 21st Century Crusaders. I’m talking of MOSSAD.’

‘MOSSAD? What the hell is that?’

He seemed to thrive on my ignorance and treated me like a spider whose legs were being pulled off systematically by a mischievous schoolboy. ‘The Israeli intelligence agency,’ he informed me. ‘The equivalent to the CIA, MI5. The KGB and the SDECE in France. MOSSAD is an abbreviation of Hebrew words meaning Institution for Intelligence and Special Assignment. It’s responsible mainly for overseas espionage and information.’

I was stunned at his revelation treating it suspiciously. ‘Are you telling me that both you and Penny worked for Israeli intelligence… for MOSSAD?’

‘We worked in tandem.’

‘What about your relationship with the 21st Century Crusaders?’

‘It interweaves beautifully. The Arab states make up most of the Middle East comprising many millions of Muslims. If a Holy War took place, Israel would be one of the first target of Islam. We have a right to defend our country and its people in the best way we can. I don’t think even you would deny us that right.’ He paused to chew a little harder on the toothpick.

‘And you know nothing about Penny’s death?’

‘Why should I?’ He placed his hand directly over the position of his heart. ‘I’m as shocked as you are. I don’t know who could have done this terrible thing. Especially in a country like Britain.’

I was in two minds whether to believe him or not when I heard footsteps approaching the front door. Primar tried to move quickly towards the exit but I managed to bar his way. A few seconds later a man appeared in the doorway with a stretcher.

‘Okay, Primar,’ he began, ‘where’s the body?’

‘You bastard!’ I shouted at Primar who let the toothpick fall from his mouth. ‘You knew she was dead all the time! You were the one who killed her!’

He reached into his pocket to produce a revolver. I knew that he would have to killed me now to cover his tracks. However, he didn’t know that I carried a Beretta in a holster. Penny would have warned him if she had given me a gun but he had no contact with Turgut in Turkey so he was unaware that I was armed. Before I realised what was happening, Primar had pointed the gun directly in my face and I was staring down the end of a barrel. The man with the stretched took fright at the sudden change of plan and he ran off as fast as his legs would carry him. He knew that other people would hear the shot and the police would arrive shortly.

A grin broke out on Primar’s face. ‘I got to like you, Jason,’ he admitted. ‘More than you’ll ever know. It’s a pity it has to end this way. A pity! By the way, I saved your life in Turkey.’

‘What are you talking about? I managed to say as I began to seize up with fear.

‘Kemal is a staunch follower of Islam. In fact he was a member of their intelligence although he’s the first to admit that their agency doesn’t work very well. When he learned you were going to visit the Mahdi in Istanbul he could hardly contain himself. They’re very sensitive about foreigners meddling with their people, their customs, their politics and their religion. He was right behind you when you crossed the Galata bridge. His aim was to kill you before you got to see the great man. He considered that your ‘infidel eyes should never gaze on a person of such greatness’. His words… not mine. Kemal was useful to me in a number of ways but I thought you had a higher value. So I killed him just before he picked you off, with my Kalashnikoff rifle.’

‘Am I supposed to be grateful for that!’ I snapped, realising I was about to face death without so much as moving a muscle.

At that moment, the sound of a mobile telephone rang in his jacket. He laughed loudly highly amused at the timing of the event. ‘what a time to receive a telephone call,’ he joked, removing the mobile from his pocket.

In those few seconds, his concentration lapsed as he pressed a button on the instrument to receive the call. It was just the time I needed. Drawing a deep breath, I thrust my hand under my jacket, produce the Beretta, and shot him in the chest. His eyes widened in shock and he dropped the mobile instantly. Then he fell to the ground dead. It was all over so quickly! In the fraction of the second before he died, I could see the surprise register on his face. However it was of little satisfaction to me to gain such revenge … and no advantage to Penny whatsoever!

I closed the door of the apartment and hurried away from the place. It would difficult to explain my role to the police if I were to report the incident and remain in the apartment with two corpses… one killed with the gun in my possession. Nonetheless, leaving both the bodies there would not allow me to wash my hands of the affair. Penny was my secretary. The police were certain to want to interview me at some later stage and there would be a lot of explaining to do. It might be that I would never be able to satisfy them with their enquiries. The consequences for me thereafter were unthinkable!

I went to a restaurant and spent an hour there mulling over the dreadful situation before driving to the East End of London. Schmuel Musaphia was already in the lobby of the Tower Hotel even though it was well before noon. His face was very serious when I met him but his expression mollified as soon as I arrived.

‘I’m very impressed, Jason,’ he greeted me, like a general trying to upgrade the morale of his troops. ‘You’ve done a lot in less than a week and I’m proud of you. Now… follow me and I think you’ll find something that will interest you.’

We walked away from the hotel slowly. I was surprised when he led me to the ancient maze of warehouses in St. Katherine’s Dock. It was familiar to me as I had been here before following the address given to me by Menel’s daughter in my search for my wife. The air was still polluted with wisps of wool and the aroma of coffee, musk and spices. We went down a lane to one of the warehouses and he bade me to enter. It was the one I had visited before… the same place where I had found Jan’s coat filled with two bundles of hay. I hesitated outside the large doors reluctant to enter.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked in a puzzled fashion.

‘I’ve been here before. Quite recently… but it was empty.’

‘It was never empty… never!’

‘Oh yes it was!’ I insisted. ‘I found a coat in there with two small bundles of hay in Jan’s coat. I think someone tried to make me think it was her body.’

‘Nonsense!’ he laughed. ‘Believe in not only what you think you can’t see. Come in and I’ll show you.’