Paradise Spells Danger

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Paradise Spells Danger Page 12

by George B Mair


  Next morning Axel von Schroeder himself ran Grant into Vienna and they parted in the Philharmoniker Strasse. The Austrian had become a friend. He was a bachelor and Grant had begun to wonder if he might play Cupid and introduce him to Moogie. ‘I’ll contact you in a few weeks,’ he said as they shook hands. ‘But don’t worry about any nonsense you may read in the news.’ He watched the car drive off and turned to the hotel.

  Harry was reading Cosmopolitan in a chair not far from reception and Frank flirting with two youngish American women. ‘Hi!’ he shouted. ‘Come and meet the gang. Girls. My friend Duke Doosterberg. Duke, Betsy and Fanny. Aren’t they nice people?’

  ‘Hi!’ said Grant.

  ‘Good flight? Great. You’ll like Vienna. Big city. Got what it takes. An’ maybe jes’ a little bit more. Eh, girls?’

  Frank continued to set the pace until he had fixed a loose double date for the following evening. ‘And you’ll find Duke a real nice guy,’ he ended. ‘Quiet, but good at signing cheques. So if the boss ain’t sent us to Rome a day ahead of schedule we’ll be right here at nineteen hundred hours tomorrow evening. Have fun but don’t eat too many cream pasties. Bad for the figure.’

  Grant looked at him with a new respect. The strong, silent, dead-pan public image had disappeared. He even radiated charm instead of the weird animal masculinity which was his normal approach, and his dark suit was, for Frank, unexpectedly subdued. He slapped Grant on the shoulder and beamed with happiness. ‘Great to see you, man. But we gotta sign some papers. Remember? And there’s drinks lined up to celebrate. Let’s go.’

  Grant followed him to the elevator. He guessed that the replacement passport was upstairs but he particularly wanted to know why he had been stuck with a name like Duke Doosterberg.

  Frank eased himself into a chair and poured two whiskies. ‘Harry’s idea,’ he said crisply. ‘Sounds good American and kinda suits you.’

  Grant let it ride. ‘Any more news?’

  ‘It can keep. Harry’s coming in ten minutes.’

  ‘You alone or did you bring company?’

  ‘Alone.’

  ‘How did you travel?’ From Grant’s point of view this was a key question.

  ‘Two cars. Harry’s Merc and my own Jag.’

  ‘Equipment?’

  ‘The lot. Say did ya know some guy blew up your flat? Krystelle’s gonna blow her top. She dug that bed wit’ de gadgets.’

  ‘Hi, David.’ Grant hadn’t even heard the door open, but Harry’s deep voice was unmistakable. He was smiling and his eyes were flat calm, which was about the nearest he ever got to warming up.

  ‘Thanks for coming. You look fit.’

  ‘I’m always fit when there’s money around. Nearly seventy million sterling the papers said.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘So some mob has picked up Krystelle and another girl, expecting you to part?’

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘How much are they asking?’

  ‘The lot. But with five millions inside the next three days as proof of good faith.’

  ‘Who’s the other one?’

  ‘Daughter of my late boss, the Admiral,’ said Grant. ‘She was waiting for us in Bangkok.’

  ‘And they’ve knocked off her old man just to show they mean business?’ He hesitated. ‘Forgot. He went first. But fact remains they made a point. Who were the stiffs you left out east?’

  ‘A gang sent out to remove the hawks in my former organisation. They got the Admiral and Miss Sidders in Brussels, killed the Professor in Paris and were set to deal with the American, who was the backroom top man, and myself, while off guard and on leave.’

  ‘How come you slipped up?’

  Grant took the question at its face value. ‘The American got his after two days on the job. We had had three nights with no sleep. They caught us all with our pants down. Whole thing was totally unexpected. And we had dealt with five. We figured that would be all. But we were wrong. They gassed us when we were asleep and I woke up not far from here with this tied round my neck.’ He handed the letter to Harry and waited reaction.

  The man read it twice and then, slowly, opened a wardrobe door. His twelve string guitar was parked inside and he began to finger out Clavelitos, a Catalan student song which Grant preferred more than most. His style with the guitar was magnificent and Grant knew that he probably rated among the top five really great players in Europe, even if he was never likely either to perform in public or make a disc.

  ‘You know,’ he said at last. ‘I got angry for a minute. That letter sounds bad. Any ideas?’

  Grant decided to be very careful. ‘Frank was hinting you might have news.’

  Harry laid down his guitar, lit a menthol cigarette and shrugged his shoulders in disgust. ‘I got my ears close to the ground and picked up a rumour that your flat was being watched. That didn’t seem to mean too much because I knew you were hitting it up on vacation, but I’ve learned to be careful.’ He poured his first whisky, a single. ‘I knew about the Admiral and the old lady and Juin because they got some press cover, so I figured you might be on the list as well and that it might be good insurance to snatch whoever was doing the watching. Of your flat, I mean. But we played it cool. No fuss until we had marked four separate guys who worked a shift system in pairs. After that we found that they reported to a car three blocks away so we went after the car. Seconds later your flat went up with a bang that swayed the Eiffel Tower.’

  He subconsciously began to reach for his guitar, but paused as he met Grant’s eye. ‘Relax, David. You getting uptight. Anyhow since you were still having a ball somewhere Frank and me guessed that your department boys had staged a raid like we had. But maybe not so well arranged, and that because they had bungled the job you were short of a pad in town.’

  ‘And the car?’ asked Grant.

  ‘We got a good organisation, David, so everything worked just fine. Two car-loads of my boys were on our tail waiting a flash. They forced a smash at the right place and at the right time. So you owe me repairs to one van, but on the credit side we got three prisoners.’

  Grant knew better than to ask if they had cracked under questioning. When Harry’s people conducted an enquiry the victims always cracked. And this time there had been ample scope to double-check. Three was a nice round number!

  ‘Trouble is,’ said Harry at last, ‘the mob running this is efficient. I would say one man is in control. And he doesn’t give much away. Instructions reach what you might call district or area controllers either by mail or telephone. A man only knows essentials for his own particular set-up of the moment. We drew blank. No guide-lines.’

  ‘And are they still alive?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Then ask them questions about Istanbul, about a man called Goodenough, and make out that you’ve got tabs on their leader. The name is Marius Brandt.’ He rapidly filled in gaps in the story and ended with a punch line. ‘Finally you’ve got to raise that five millions and have it handy for transfer before zero hour if the worst comes to the worst.’

  Harry’s eyes hooded as they always did when money was discussed. ‘You sure about the security angle? No slip-up possible with that will?’

  ‘None. And if we do have to use it, for sure it will be all the other side will get. There should be plenty left.’

  Frank spoke for the first time. ‘Forget security. Krystelle’s mah sister. She comes first.’

  Harry’s voice was very soft. ‘Nothing comes before five million. Krystelle’s just another broad.’

  ‘Okay.’ Frank sounded quite relaxed. ‘I’ll see yo’, David. Got the heat on a political back home an’ I got three millions of my own. We’re in the clear, and the Hell wit’ Harry. He got no soul.’

  ‘You gone out of your mind?’

  Frank drew a gun with an effortless speed Grant had never seen equalled and grinned as a bullet creased Harry’s well-padded shoulders. The silencer cut noise down to less than the top of a champagne cork and t
he slug buried itself in the lintel of the door.

  ‘You got brains, Harry. But I got a fast draw. An’ personality too,’ he added, smiling even more broadly. ‘The mob dig me, but they could dig you into a shallow ditch without sheddin’ tears. An’ ’cos for why? Because you got no soul. So don’ test a good relationship any more, man, Krystelle’s David’s woman an’ mah sister. Which adds up to moah than five million.’

  ‘His party trick,’ said Harry apologetically. ‘He’s a hood. But when he’s really serious he ruins a suit. Look at that. Like a red-hot wire had been drawn along the cloth. An’ it cost me eighty sterling last time I was in London.’ He finished his whisky. ‘Put me down for a million and that’s the limit,’ he said. ‘I like Krystelle. She plays good poker.’

  ‘You an’ your dough!’ said Frank. ‘Like I said. You got no soul. Even charging David for van repairs. Cheeze!’

  Harry poured a second whisky. ‘So we’ll organise the cash. What next?’

  ‘I know Istanbul like you know Paris,’ said Grant, ‘and I know the street Not far from Tokpaki, the Old Palace, and handy for where a lot of pashas and viziers lived in the old days.’

  Frank looked interested. ‘Viz what?’

  ‘Big shots,’ snapped Harry. ‘Classy district round the palace.’

  ‘Not so classy now,’ said Grant slowly, ‘but I’ve had plenty time to think this out and one thing is for certain. A man was seen to go in but he never came out and he was never found. Well, he didn’t just dissolve into space. He must have been taken somewhere. So there had to be a secret entrance whether the people who explored the place located it or not.’

  ‘And you aim to approach from the other side of a secret entrance which nobody could find.’

  ‘But not till I’ve studied things on the spot. I’ve got pull in Turkey and might be able to see some old maps.’

  ‘With three days to save five million?’

  ‘It might be done,’ said Grant. ‘I’ve an idea about where a passage or tunnel or something might go. Several places had an underground route into the seraglio but they could only be opened from one side. Only strictly authorised visitors could enter the place but if a princess was keeping a lover outside she could sometimes join him for a quickie. Though it was a bow-string job if she was caught. Though some tried. Then again women inside the palace were dangerous property. Place was full of spies. But a man might fix secret dates outside if he had enough cash to bribe and if he was high enough up to have real influence. In each case the big idea was to make sure that while someone could get out of the palace no one could enter. So once inside the house outside the palace wall the entrance had to be kept open. Must have been a twitchy-making business.’

  ‘All guess-work,’ said Harry. ‘Stamboul has had sewers laid, roads cut, tunnels dug, foundations for bridges built, and been hacked to bits since the last Sultan pulled out fifty years ago. Not a dog’s chance.’

  Grant looked at him curiously. The man had spoken with unexpected authority. ‘You been doing home-work?’

  ‘Some years ago. Thought of lifting some stuff in Tokpaki until a guy wrote a story about the same idea. Made a film too. Not bad either. But I figured after that the place would be too hot to touch. So I laid off.’

  ‘Then you agree that there were places like I described.’

  ‘Sure. Though I was going to get in different. Different even from the film if it comes to that.’

  ‘Did you look at any maps?’

  Harry lifted his guitar. ‘A few.’ His fingers raced over the strings in his own interpretation of a Bach fugue. ‘You aim to start looking from inside Topkapi?’

  ‘Might have to.’

  ‘Then forget it. That place is more sensitive than Fort Knox.’

  ‘You aim to start soon?’ Frank was polishing his gun and stretched out on a divan.

  ‘Why not?’ said Grant. ‘Why not now?’ he added.

  ‘Attaboy!’ Frank sounded apologetic. ‘I got sensitive feelings,’ he explained. ‘And there’s a couple of guys down there wit’ a doll in a green pussy-helmet. I seen them somewhere before. Maybe Paris.’

  ‘And maybe coincidence,’ snapped Harry who had lifted a pair of field-glasses and was studying them with sudden concentration. He waited until they had crossed the road before he relaxed, and then he turned to Grant. ‘Maybe didn’t know I can lip-read in two languages. Never saw them before but they were talking about when to book for the wine feest on the Rhine. Tourists.’

  Frank carefully re-loaded his gun. ‘Or maybe professionals. You got brains but I got instinct.’

  Harry was filling in damage to wood with a tube of plastic. ‘How do we travel?’

  ‘Take it as read that the Edirne frontier will be watched,’ said Grant. ‘Likewise Istanbul airport, but we can get round that if Frank moves fast to Athens and gets the Piraeus-Izmir ferry tonight. There should be a flight connection Vienna-Athens, given a little luck. Then tomorrow he can fix a drive-yourself car and make Stamboul by mid-afternoon.

  ‘And you fly direct to Ankara. A charter if necessary. You can then be in Istanbul before lunch tomorrow.’

  ‘And you, David?’ Frank was already half packed.

  ‘The 1805 jet to Orly in case anyone is interested to check if I contact Cooper’s executors. The 2055 KLM from Paris will get me to Amsterdam by 2150 and give me a night to organise two three angles before taking the 0900 KLM hop to Istanbul tomorrow morning. With touch-down at 1425 I can have plenty news before we meet in the evening.’

  Frank looked puzzled. ‘Why should they have any line on you? You got a disguise. Remember?’

  ‘Which you spotted at almost first glance,’ said Grant. ‘And I haven’t forgotten my do-gooding friend von Schroeder. I was picked up too near his lodge for complete peace of mind.’

  ‘But why a night in Amsterdam?’

  ‘A character who owes me something is tied up in the theatre world. When he’s finished not even von Schroeder or you will know me.’

  ‘So where do we meet?’

  ‘Tomorrow night. Separate tables at the Divan Hotel. If I want either of you I’ll leave a full cigarette burning on the ash-tray and go to the loo. Otherwise 2300 hours for late drinks at Mustafa Kemal’s supper house along the Bosporus. He used to be a child page to the Kislar Agha.’

  ‘Who?’ asked Frank.

  ‘Chief Black Eunuch. And shut up. He’s in the seventies now, but extremely fit and with dead sharp memories of the past. The sort of memories a few older men sometimes have when everything lights up with definitive clarity. If you get me.’ Grant sensed that he had maximal audience attention. ‘I’ve helped him once or twice and he’ll do what he can.

  ‘Officials don’t rate too high in Turkey, even today, and I’d rather get into Topkapi through Kemal’s chum club than trying to fix it with a political. Turks are individuals and Kemal knows his scene.’ He lit a Montecristo given by von Schroeder. ‘Remember the job we rounded off in Amsterdam?[6] And that nerve gas which knocked Frank out? You never asked questions but I did it with an ampoule built in to the heels of my shoes. And I had a personal immunity we started building up years ago. Anyhow you learned the hard way what happens if there’s no immunity. Well, I woke up in hospital, but I was anxious about these darned shoes because one was still usable and Krystelle wanted us to keep them. Said she had a hunch they would come in handy. So to cut a long story short one of my first visitors was a detective superintendent from The Hague whom I’ve known for years, so I asked him to keep them safe till further notice.

  ‘The Admiral was blazing because they were never returned to stores but so much had happened it was difficult to be sure of anything and I was pretty sick. So he let it ride and now I want them. They are still in Holland. In The Hague to be exact. And in safe keeping. So I collect during the Amsterdam stop-over and if we can find any clue as to where there is an entrance to this address,’ he dropped a scrap of paper on to Harry’s bed, ‘then we gas the house and if ne
cessary blow open an entrance. All clear?’

  Frank read the paper curiously. ‘For crissake! Wat language is that?’

  ‘Turkish.’

  ‘An’ this means something?’

  ‘An address.’

  ‘Give it to a cab-driver and he’ll take you there?’

  ‘You’ve understood.’

  Frank was impressed. ‘And you figure that’s where we might find the girls?’

  ‘It’s always possible.’ Grant could seldom take more than an hour of either Frank or Harry. Between them they radiated an atmosphere of sick comedy backed by angels of death. ‘Anyhow memorise and destroy. You know the drill.’

  ‘Running expenses,’ said Harry and Grant saw that his eyes were again hooded. ‘Charters cost. And your circuit isn’t exactly cheap. Going first class?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Then sign here. A loan of ten thousand American dollars. For you only four per cent per month interest.’

  Grant stuffed a thick wad of fives, tens and hundreds into his wallet. ‘You’ve got no soul.’

  Harry nodded agreeably. ‘Not in business. But that’s for expenses. We each pay our own. And if Krystelle wasn’t so hot at poker you would be paying the lot. She got class. I kinda like her. But you been mighty quiet about the Admiral’s daughter. Anything to add?’

  Grant looked him straight in the eye. ‘Just one thing. She’s a lesbian. Goes sick and vomits the second a man even touches her. Pity.’

  Harry straightened his tie and snapped his baggage closed. ‘Want a hotel label for the case? We haven’t got one from Vienna. But I got the message, David. In a nut-shell: Harry, lay off.’

  ‘Unless you want some vomit over your pants. She won’t even shake hands.’

  ‘Frank says you got brains, David. What would make a girl like her go that way?’

  Grant thought fast. ‘Her old man virtually ditched her mother. Girl identified with Mama. Which adds up to hating Daddy. Which means gravitating towards the girls and hating all men.’

  ‘Did she hate you?’

  ‘Sort of. She linked me with her old man and wanted revenge.’

  ‘Yet you aim to get her out and spring five million.’

 

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