The Dardanelles Conspiracy

by Alan Bardos

  ‘And you were in Asia Minor? That would explain why you were sent here,’ Abraham said.

  ‘No, Eastern Europe. Sarajevo was where I developed a taste for Turkish coffee.’ Johnny dipped another sugar cube into his coffee.

  ‘Ah, I see.’

  Johnny got the impression that Abraham was just going through the motions of conversation while his mind studied a more immediate problem.

  ‘My understanding is that the people of the Balkans felt oppressed by the rule of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Their will to be free is what started this whole war.’

  ‘Well, there is a little more to it than that…’

  Abraham cut Johnny off as he evidently came to a decision. ‘The Turkish people feel a similar opposition to the Germans and their dragging us into their war. It is that desire to be free which could end the war.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand, aren’t you allies with Germany?’ Johnny asked.

  ‘Every morning the people can be seen on their roofs looking out to sea and do you know what they are waiting for? The British Fleet to arrive, but they are not waiting for the Royal Navy to destroy them, but to liberate them. Something I’m sure members of the Young Turkish government are acutely aware of and therefore they may be willing to negotiate, to hold onto their power.’

  Abraham paused to dip a sugar cube in his coffee. ‘So you see there is no need for hidden threats. As for an “arrangement”, that does not interest me personally, but it will be necessary to help come to an arrangement with people in positions of influence.’

  He placed the whole sugar cube in his mouth and crunched it. ‘Return to your hotel and wait there until I send for you.

  Chapter 17

  Esther Weisz entered the marble lobby of the bank. The fluted columns and domed ceiling always made her feel like she was in a temple of commerce, and she was the chief worshiper. With a sigh, she moved past the flock of dejected souls who had been refused the favour of the Gods of finance.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Weisz.’ The head floor walker greeted her. His family had been in the bank's service since it was founded by Venetian merchants.

  ‘Good Afternoon, Giuseppe. I have an appointment with Mr Nahum.' Esther had been summoned, no doubt to discuss her failing attempts to save the family business.

  Giuseppe bowed and escorted her past rows of busy clerks and into a lift. Esther could have found the way with her eyes closed. She had been coming to the bank for years with her father. Its golden décor had been the bars that caged her dreams.

  ‘Ah, Esther, please come in.’ Abraham got up from behind his large rosewood desk, to welcome her. ‘Thank you for coming to see me.' He dutifully kissed her cheek. His lips felt dry, reserved and correct. All the men she knew were most correct.

  'It was my pleasure, Abraham.'

  He smiled and directed her towards a set of corner settees. Abraham always made this imposing temple feel like a sanctuary.

  ‘You don’t seem happy, my dear Esther. Your reunion did not go well?’

  ‘No, no it didn’t. It was nice to see Laszlo, but he felt it was beneath his honour to do as I asked.’

  ‘The honourable thing is always to be with the woman you love. Such a fool is clearly not worthy of you.’

  Esther laughed, then grimaced, remembering the look of anguish on Laszlo’s face when she’d suggested that their engagement be reinstated.

  ‘My dearest Edelweiss, how can I marry you now? You must undo this terrible thing that you have done to me.’

  ‘I want you to be my husband, why is that so terrible?’ Esther had reached out and taken his hand.

  ‘I’m sorry, I cannot bear to be in Constantinople when my duty is so clearly elsewhere.’ Laszlo squeezed her hand back.

  ‘I know it is selfish to want you to be safe, when so many others are fighting. I cannot save them, but I can save you, Laszlo.’ Esther’s voice had shaken. The conversation hadn't taken the course she had planned.

  ‘You have turned me into a court jester, a eunuch.' He'd pointed in the direction of her footman.

  ‘He isn’t a eunuch. I could never afford one of those. Besides, you would not be much use as a husband, if you were a eunuch,’ Esther said teasingly. Once Laszlo would have been shocked to hear her talk in such a fashion, now he just shrugged. ‘Laszlo, I need a husband and we were once so much in love.’

  ‘Why do you want to get married Esther, is your father trying to sell you off to some fat sultan for his harem?’

  Esther looked away shamefaced. Laszlo was always so perceptive. ‘Why does there have to be a reason?’

  He squeezed her hand. ‘I haven’t forgotten the way you try to conceal secrets from me.’

  ‘It's not a fat sultan and I have no intention of becoming part of a harem.’ She hadn't wanted to tell him this much.

  ‘Come, out with it, Esther. You might as well tell me the whole sordid story, now you've got me here,’ Laszlo said, adopting the persona of the intelligence officer he’d once been.

  ‘It’s not sordid, it’s all very proper and correct. Enver Pasha, one of the three rulers of the Ottoman Empire…’

  ‘Yes, I know of him. He wants you for his wife, does he, and you’d rather have poor old obedient Breitner?’ Laszlo gently put her hand down.

  ‘No, I wouldn’t have minded that so much. He's quite charming and terribly good looking.’ She felt some pleasure as a flicker of jealousy burnt across Laszlo’s face. ‘Besides, Ismail’s already married, to a princess. No, he wants me as a trophy for one of his aides.’

  ‘Well, if you don’t want to marry this man, why don’t you simply tell Enver that?’ Laszlo asked.

  ‘I haven’t been able to see Enver Pasha since the war started, he’s been away.’

  ‘Yes, leading some foolhardy campaign against Russia in the Caucasus and producing yet more defeat.’

  ‘Now Enver’s back in Constantinople he’s shunned appearing in public. My only contact with the government is through the aide he wants me to marry, a Major Toprak. Who seems to think that I keep pestering him because I want to marry him… or become his mistress. You see, I am hoping that Papa’s company will receive a loan from the government to speed up the building of a new railway line, or at least an extension to the contract to get the thing finished. There have been a number of unforeseen problems in the Levant, which is where Papa is now.’

  ‘And I suppose that if you refuse to marry this Major Toprak, you will not be granted a loan or extension?’ Laszlo said with a slight sneer, he had always found matters of business distasteful.

  ‘Obviously no one has said as such, Laszlo, but it’s likely. The company would be ruined, Papa’s life work. Don’t you see it’s not about the money?’

  ‘And what does your father have to say about you selling yourself off like a prize milk cow, to keep his dreams alive?’

  ‘Please don’t talk like that, I haven’t told Papa. He’s working himself to death, this would finish him.’

  Laszlo stood up and took both her hands in his. ‘I will do what I can to help, but I cannot marry you for such reasons. It would be dishonourable.’

  ‘How very correct. Is it not dishonourable to throw me on the mercy of a man I don’t love?’

  ‘I can tell him that his affections are not returned, but I will not marry you for the sake of business.’

  ‘Can I at least say that we are still engaged?’ Esther asked.

  Laszlo’s face clouded over. ‘Officially we were never engaged, your father refused me.’

  ‘Not officially, no, Laszlo, but our engagement was never ended, not in my heart anyway.’

  Laszlo smiled, his face deformed by the grotesque scar on his face. ‘You may tell people that I asked for your hand in marriage and you accepted my proposal, but your father has not given his consent. That much is true.’

  His precise, pedantic nature had always amused Esther and complemented her own sense of order. Now it just infuriated her.

 
‘Maybe it is for the best,’ she said to Abraham, bringing herself back to the present.

  ‘An unofficial engagement won’t hold off Toprak. He could insist on your breaking it,’ Abraham said sadly.

  ‘Are you able to send Laszlo to the front?’ Esther’s practical mind had moved onto the next problem.

  Abraham shook his head. ‘I doubt that I can arrange a transfer to a frontline unit, so soon after he arrived here. I will make enquiries in a few months.’

  ‘Well, that would be something, thank you. The frustrating thing is that I know he wants to marry me.’

  ‘As I said, the man is clearly a fool and most undeserving of you.’

  ‘It was rather whimsical I suppose, wanting to marry the man I love. I will have to somehow tell Enver I won’t marry his aide and hope he understands, and hope my bank can extend a line of credit?’

  ‘I think I might have a more likely solution to your problem,’ Abraham said. ‘Have you thought about approaching Talat Pasha for help with your situation? You know him, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I know him, why would you resolve a difficult situation by suggesting I approach the most mendacious man in Constantinople?’

  ‘Alas, we must all do things that we don't want to. I myself would be much happier spending my time studying the scriptures, but I have responsibilities, a wife and a family to support,’ Abraham said blandly.

  ‘Are you saying I sell myself?’ Esther stood up to leave. She was too angry to continue the conversation. To her amazement Abraham laughed.

  ‘Please, Esther, you completely misunderstand me.’ He lent forward conspiratorially. ‘I would like you to provide compensation of a completely different sort all together.’

  Abraham sat back and crossed his legs, adopting a blasé attitude in an attempt to downplay what he was about to say. ‘A young Englishman came to see me today, on behalf of the British Government. He would like the Grand Rabbi to open negotiations with Talat Pasha.’

  ‘You want me to take part in some kind of sedition?’

  ‘No, to help me facilitate peace talks,’ Abraham said.

  Esther was shocked and felt herself tremble, as her mind churned over the possibilities. ‘Yes, I see. Talat is the most obvious person to approach. All Enver Pasha talks about is his time in Germany and how well their soldiers march.’

  ‘The negotiations would I’m sure be most beneficial to Talat personally and no doubt he will show his gratitude to you for facilitating such an arrangement. Grateful enough to grant whatever concessions you require for your railway.’

  ‘So it would be like old times.’ Esther and Abraham had worked together in the past, as she tried to find investors for the business, but nothing on this scale. ‘The Grand Rabbi has agreed to help?’

  ‘Oh yes, we have a coincidence of opinion on the matter. His involvement will be minimal to start with until you have sounded Talat out.’

  ‘Who is this Englishman and how do you know he can be trusted?’

  ‘His letter of introduction said that his name was Jonathan Swift. I don’t trust him, but I trust the man who sent him to me.’

  ‘Swift? What do you know of him?’

  ‘Not much apart from he has a taste for Turkish coffee and spent time in Sarajevo before the war.’ Abraham stopped puzzled as Esther started to laugh.

  ‘You know him?’

  ‘Only by reputation, but I think it would be interesting to meet him.’

  Abraham clapped his hands together. ‘Excellent, in that case I think we should invite our friend to dinner, as we would any other potential investor. For the purposes of our arrangement, he should be addressed as von Jager.’

  Chapter 18

  Breitner entered the Embassy dining room and started rearranging the seating cards for luncheon.

  ‘I trust everything is correct sir?’ a servant asked.

  ‘Look at this, completely wrong order of precedence,’ Breitner snapped. The man looked about to cry, realising the consequences of such a error. ‘Don’t worry a simple mistake to make, get on with the place settings.’

  Breitner sighed he still felt uneasy about his meeting with Esther Weisz. He had been right to decline her offer, no matter his feelings. The refusal from Esther’s father had been friendly, but categorical. Shortly after the photograph, she displayed so recklessly, had been taken he’d gone to see Esther’s father in his office overlooking Budapest’s Keleti station. Breitner had walked through rows of draughtsmen on high stools and was glad, that as a cavalry officer, he was spared such dull and commonplace work.

  Her father, a sober man of affairs, had looked puzzled by his visit, but had welcomed him well enough. ‘Breitner, what can I do for you?’

  ‘It concerns your daughter, Esther.’ Breitner had felt the magnitude of the situation deserved the most formal manner.

  ‘You wish to indulge her fascination with photography and have come to plead her cause, is that it?’

  ‘No sir, as a matter of fact, Esther and I have reached an understanding.’

  ‘I hope you are not going to tell me that you’re planning to invest in her photographic studio, after I refused her?’

  Breitner had laughed, such was the naivety of his joy. ‘It is my great hounour and privilege to ask for your permission to marry Miss Esther Weisz.’

  Mr Weisz was flabbergasted. ‘Esther has accepted? So you hope to present me with a faint accompli.’

  ‘No sir, I respectfully ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.’

  ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse you, Laszlo.’

  Breitner felt like he’d been struck, ‘I don’t understand...’

  ‘Don’t worry Laszlo, she won’t be the only heiress to have her head turned by a young officer of Hussars.’

  ‘Such a creature would be of no interest to me, sir.’

  ‘And I’m sure their fathers would also have concerns about their daughter’s entering into an alliance with an officer from a regiment notorious for its wild gambling and high living. As it is, my daughter’s inheritance will not be squandered in such a fashion.’

  ‘I have very little to do with such behaviour, Mr Weisz.’ Breitner said indignantly.

  ‘Then how do you plan to progress? Is merit not judged on your devil may care attitude?’

  ‘Yes, to a certain extent, but I have been made a junior adjutant, through prudent means and playing the odds.’

  ‘If you wish to be responsible for more than mucking out the stables, you will have to do more than that.’ It was a sentiment that Breitner agreed with and had hopes of advancement into other areas of the army.

  ‘Mr Weisz if you’re worried about my prospects, I have been offered a commission in intelligence.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve heard of your involvement in the more sordid side of the military.’ He grimaced. ‘You seem like a pleasant enough fellow and I’m sure you show promise, in the military anyway, but I cannot spare my daughter for such a union.’

  Breitner looked at the draughtsmen as he left and wondered if it would be so bad after all, grubbing away if in an office for money rather than having the honour of serving the King Emperor.

  ‘It's gone – gone, I tell you,’ von Grubber announced to the whole world, as he burst into the dining room. He appeared to have been taken ill with a severe fit of the hysterics.

  ‘What has gone, Baron von Grubber?’ Breitner stupidly asked, promoting a further outburst.

  ‘Two entire cases of His Excellency the Ambassador’s finest champagne,’ von Grubber was a picture of total desolation.

  ‘I see, that is a nuisance,’ Breitner replied, calmly continuing to rearrange the place settings, which he thought was a crisis of equal proportion.

  ‘Don’t you understand? The Ambassador is hosting a reception, how can he have a reception without sufficient champagne? It is a disaster, it is a catastrophe. Do you have any idea how hard it is to acquire vintage champagne when there is war in France?’

  ‘Yes, that
would be inconvenient for the Ambassador and his guests.’ Breitner was finding it difficult to hide his contempt for the irrelevances this man immersed himself in.

  Von Grubber acknowledged Breitner’s sarcasm with a look of pure malice. ‘Since you have nothing constructive to offer, Herr Breitner, you might go and see if the champagne can be retrieved.'

  ‘How? It might be anywhere.’ Breitner carefully put the place cards on the dining room table, calming his temper.

  ‘Use some guile, man. It was put on the train in Vienna and sent to Sirkeci terminus, here in Constantinople last week. It must have disappeared somewhere between the two stations. Do I have to tell you everything? You were in military intelligence for goodness sake, although I’m starting to understand why they dispensed with your services.’

  Breitner ignored the slight and lifted his chin. ‘Of course, Her von Grubber, I will conduct a full investigation. However I fear there will be little chance of recovering the champagne, it is sure to have been consumed by now.’

  ‘That is no excuse. Go to the commissariats’ office. They will have all the details concerning the shipment. They might even help you smarten up your ideas.’

  Such was the smartness of Von Grubber’s operation that the champagne had arrived at the embassy a week ago and it had just been discovered that the shipment was short.

  It seemed that if Breitner was to serve his country, he would have to go from the absurd to the ridiculous. He cringed at his train of thought. He was becoming cynical and bitter and it ran counter to everything he stood for as a man.

  He found it intolerable that he had been brought to Constantinople at Esther’s beck and call, like a lap dog, and given a post. Rather than to have earned it through hard work or because of any talent or ability he might have demonstrated.

  His role with the High Court Chamberlain, at the Hofburg Palace, had been to investigate the lineage of aristocratic families petitioning to enter the Emperor’s court, and the administration of the protocols around such visits. He had no idea about the intricacies of diplomatic protocol and was unable to do his work efficiently. Breitner had become everything he despised.