by Alan Bardos
Breitner seethed with rage and jealousy. ‘Married, what is this talk of marriage, Esther, are you to marry this popinjay?’
‘Yes, Major Breitner, I have mentioned that His Excellency intended me for one of his aides.’
‘And what business is it of an Embassy lackey who she marries?’ Toprak put in.
Breitner rounded on him, ‘It is precisely my business. Miss Weisz and I have had an understanding now for a number of years.’
‘With you,’ Toprak looked at him contemptuously.
‘Is this true, Esther Hanim?’ Enver asked before Breitner could strike Toprak.
‘I believe I once explained that I had a fiancé, Excellency,’ Esther sighed demurely.
‘But that was surely a childhood infatuation,’ Enver said.
‘That is true, Excellency,’ Esther said.
Breitner realised he had blundered in without a hope of regaining Esther’s heart after the idiotic way he had behaved. Now she would dismiss him as a childish infatuation and he would be humiliated, but he had to try.
‘Excellency, I do have the honour of being Miss Weisz’s fiancé,’ Breitner said, daring to hope that she would support him.
Esther arched her eyebrow and stared at him for an eternity, and then bursting into a radiant smile, took Breitner’s hand.
‘Major Breitner and I are engaged, naturally we are awaiting my father’s permission, but I intend to publish the news in all the Budapest papers at once.’
‘Very well, Esther Hanim, may I offer my congratulations. I had understood that you had recently been in the company of a German diplomat when you paid a call on Talat, and I had assumed that you were not formally connected to anyone. But I see that you have found someone infinitely more suitable.’
‘Herr von Jager is just a acquaintance, Excellency. Major Breitner is the love of my life,’ she squeezed Breitner’s hand.
The brief joy Breitner felt evaporated and the professionally honed instinct of a hunter took over, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together in his mind.
Chapter 26
‘I’m delighted to report that the delegate I sent to Constantinople has persuaded Talat Pasha to meet with our representatives and agree terms.’ Sir George looked proudly at Churchill and his cohorts assembled to consider his Dardanelles initiative. He was in his rightful place at the centre of the discussion.
‘Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves, Smyth?’ Hankey asked. ‘As I see it, Talat Pasha has only agreed to a meeting in principle.’
Sir George adopted the offhand manor he’d developed to demonstrate his superiority over those less gifted than himself. ‘Nonetheless, Hankey, we are now in a position to persuade the Turkish Government to leave the War.’
‘Leave the war indeed, like retiring from a cricket match,’ Churchill drawled impatiently. He evidently did not consider the scheme to be a bold masterstroke anymore, but a bit oily. ‘You want the British Government to bribe the Turks to leave the field of battle? Just when we are getting on so nicely, Kitchener has finally promised troops, the two forts at the entrance to the Straits are destroyed and we’ve moved onto the inner defences. We’ll be in Constantinople within the next two weeks, hey, Fisher?’
‘Quite so, quite so,’ Fisher said drowsily. The old Admiral looked exhausted.
‘With the Naval bombardment underway, the next logical step is to prepare land forces, not continue a reckless cloak and dagger stunt.’ Hankey said, ‘we’ve already dispatched colonial troops and the 29th Division to reinforce the Naval Division on route to the Aegean.’
‘Is that all really necessary? I believe the original intention of this little exercise in gunboat diplomacy was to show a bit of stick and get the Turkish government to the negotiating table.’
Churchill frowned at Sir George. 'If, as is very likely, the Turkish government falls apart and revolution breaks out we will need troops to take Constantinople and restore order. They will then act as an occupation force, compelling the remaining Turkish forces to surrender - either by combat, negotiation or… bribery.'
Churchill emphasised the last word with distaste, leaving Sir George in little doubt that he had changed his mind about the nature of the operation and unwittingly Sir George had gone against his chief in front of his staff. The ground had shifted and he was on the wrong side.
Sir George began to pull himself together. ‘Sending troops to the Aegean doesn’t have to stop the negotiations. A stronger show of force would in fact aid them. However, my operatives in Constantinople have asked for greater flexibility in their discussions with the Turkish Government, concerning the future sovereignty of Constantinople.’
Churchill exhaled cigar smoke for a moment before answering. ‘Quite impossible, Constantinople has been promised to Russia since 1908. Reneging on our agreement would provide an excellent opportunity for them to make a separate peace.’
Sir George couldn’t fault his logic. It was the usual Foreign Office line. Keep Russia onside to mitigate their threat to the Empire.
‘First Lord, I take it you have no objections to our continuing the negotiations with Talat Pasha? We do have an opportunity to obtain the Goeben.’
Churchill tensed, the German battlecruiser was his nemeses and Sir George was giving him the opportunity to get his hands on it.
Churchill turned to Hall. ‘Do you think it worth it, Captain, is there a hope of pulling that off?’
‘Well, First Lord, time is pressing. The fleet could well be at Constantinople before we make any headway in the negotiations.’ Hall’s expression lightened and Sir George felt that he was being given enough rope to hang himself. ‘But if Smyth thinks it worth pursuing, then I have no objection to continuing the negotiations. If there is a chance of getting our hands on the Goeben.’
Sir George was too seasoned an operator to allow himself to be steered down a blind alley like that. ‘If time is a crucial factor might I suggest that we reduce our offer for every delay the Turks make in meeting with our representatives.’
‘Won’t that annoy the Turks?’ Churchill asked.
‘It is a common negotiating strategy when dealing with Ottoman officials. Our representatives can always renegotiate terms when they meet with the Turkish delegation.’
‘It’s a lot to put on the Grand Rabbi’, Hall said.
‘My man Swift will be able to assist him.’ Sir George realised that he must be getting desperate to bring that lout to his aide.
Hall blinked agreement. ‘Quite so, must be a handy fellow to have survived this long over there. Why not try him? If Swift succeeds, we’ll certainly owe him a debt. Having his charges washed away for gallant conduct in the field at the very least.’
Fisher took this opportunity to voice his opinion. ‘I believe there is some value in continuing Smyth’s plan. We are meeting a lot more opposition than had been anticipated in the Straits. So, if we have the opportunity to bring the situation to a speedy conclusion without any further risk to our ships, then we should take it.’
‘Very well, Smyth, you may proceed. Let's hope something comes of it. I’m seriously wondering what use you serve in the admiralty.’ Churchill said pointedly.
‘Thank you, First Lord, I will arrange for the change in strategy to be communicated to our representatives.’ Sir George couldn’t believe that his future would now be determined by Johnny Swift’s negotiating skills.
Chapter 27
Johnny Swift walked past the Galata Bridge and into the restaurant where he had first met Esther. He ordered a raki and made his way to the side room where Esther and Abraham Nahum were waiting with a lean, malevolent looking man.
‘Good of you to join us,’ Abraham said with mock civility.
‘Not at all, you summon and I obey.’ Johnny sat down and poured himself a glass of wine, ignoring the inference that he was late.
‘I say, go easy on that stuff,’ the lean man said and Johnny thought he looked strangely familiar.
‘What the
hell’s it got to do with you?’ Johnny shouted, annoyed by the superiority in his tone, but put the wine down.
‘You’ve met Captain Simpson of course,’ Abraham said.
‘I had a housemaster called Simpson. He was a pompous, self-important little man as well, but that’s the only Simpson I know.’
‘You really are a specimen of singular poor conduct and vulgarity,’ Simpson replied. ‘I believe Mr Nahum is referring to your arrival in Constantinople. We met when you returned to your hotel, intoxicated!’
Johnny couldn’t place Simpson at first. He’d been drunk for most of his time in Constantinople, then the conceited tone of the man brought it back. ‘You’re that idiot who made me sick.’
‘I think you rather brought that upon yourself.’
‘You said that we wouldn’t meet again.’
‘Yes, I’m glad you understand the severity of the situation.’ Simpson said.
‘Perhaps we might discuss the reason why we are all here?’ Abraham said. ‘Captain Simpson is taking the risk of meeting with us tonight, because he’s received instructions from London.’
‘That’s correct. The powers that be are pressing for a quick decision.’ Simpson said.
Johnny frowned. ‘Talat’s agreed to meet the official representatives. There isn’t much else I can do, is there?’
‘Well, it appears there is. It has been suggested that we reduce the amount of money being offered to Talat Pasha by five hundred thousand pounds for every delay he makes in meeting the official representatives.’ Simpson grinned.
‘What? But that’s ridiculous, don’t they understand it will antagonise Talat?’ Johnny knew Sir George Smyth’s hand was in this, still trying to get him killed.
'I think they understand exactly what they’re doing,’ Abraham said. ‘It is quite a shrewd negotiating strategy and we’ll certainly encourage Talat to come to a decision.'
Johnny finished his wine and poured another glass. ‘Attempting something like that, with a man like Talat, sounds decidedly dicey. Mind you, I'm sure he wouldn't clap the Grand Rabbi in irons.'
Abraham held his hand up to stop Johnny as he raised his glass. ‘I think you should be careful with the amount you drink. You are going to need your wits about you.’
‘Why? All I do is sit there and watch the Grand Rabbi.’ Johnny emptied the bottle into his glass.
‘The Grand Rabbi is being put in a difficult position by the negotiations and will play no further part in them.’
‘No, I wouldn’t envy him having to try and sell that deal to old Talat. What we call a sticky wicket,’ Johnny said.
‘You bloody idiot,’ Simpson snarled. ‘We expect you to conduct the negotiations.’
‘You want me to offer Talat Pasha less money for doing exactly the same thing?'
‘Precisely, in war sometimes you have to sacrifice your pawns.’
‘Mr Simpson, please, that isn’t helpful,’ Esther said.
Simpson smiled obsequiously at her. ‘Alright, Swift let me put it in terms you’ll understand. London says it’s your last chance to get the charges against you washed out.’
Johnny finished his drink and stood up, offering Esther his hand. She took it and gave his hand a slight squeeze.
***
Laszlo Breitner watched Swift leave the restaurant, hand in hand with his Esther. Rage engulfed him and it took every ounce of his restraint not to smash his fist through the smug Englishman's face.
Breitner had been following Esther since the Ambassador's reception when she mentioned her acquaintance with Herr von Jager. He tried to tell himself that a rational man would have waved off such suspicions as coincidence. Yet the nagging doubt would not go away.
If he was being objective about his feelings, as he tried to be, Breitner would admit he was thrilled that his theory had been proved right. Although all he could feel on a conscious level was disappointment that Esther should enter into an unholy alliance with Johnny Swift.
He assumed that they must have a connection through Kati. He could think of no other explanation. The thought that they may have formed any other connection was too repugnant to contemplate.
There was no time now for Breitner to entertain such self-indulgence. Esther and Johnny had stepped into a waiting car. Breitner hailed a cab and followed them through the winding streets of the old city.
Esther’s car was stopped by a policeman, standing in a street of rough wooden houses. He glanced inside and waved them past.
Breitner told the cab to stop and watched as Esther and Johnny got out of the car and went into a crooked three-story house.
‘What business do you have here?’ the Policeman asked, approaching the cab.
‘I’m lost, is this the residence of Baron Von Grubber of the Austro-Hungarian Embassy?’ Breitner used the first name that popped into his head.
‘No, this is the residence of Talat Pasha.’
Breitner thought he had misheard. The scale of it all had suddenly become too big for him to comprehend. ‘I’m sorry, did you stay Talat Pasha, the Minister of the Interior, lives here?'
‘Yes, of course,’ the policeman responded.
Breitner tapped the taxi driver on the shoulder. ‘Take me to the Sublime Porte.’
The taxi drove back down the hill and stopped under the Red and gold pagodas that marked the centre of Turkish government. He couldn’t go to anyone at his Embassy, they wouldn’t be interested. It would also run the risk of involving Esther in a scandal. Despite what she might be doing, she would always be his intended.
Breitner needed help to find out what Johnny was up to and stop it. He thought about going to the malcontent at the German Embassy, Stolz, but Breitner needed someone with real authority.
This now went beyond a simple spy hunt, if Johnny was meeting the Minister of the Interior and one of the ruling triumvirate. The only place he would find help was Talat’s rival in the Young Turk government. He addressed himself to the guard at the gate in his most authoritative parade ground manner.
‘I wish to see Major Avin Toprak, immediately.’
***
Johnny lit one of Talat’s gold ringed cigarettes, inhaled the rich tobacco and exhaled in Talat’s general direction. Esther looked appalled, but bravado was always Johnny’s favourite tactic.
Talat responded to Johnny’s opening gambit by firmly planting his massive wrists on his desk. ‘So, you are interested in the Red Apple?’
'I'm sorry, I don't follow, Your Excellency.'
Esther leant in and whispered, ‘he means the great prize – Constantinople.’
‘All my government is asking for is safe passage through the Dardanelles.'
‘Don't peddle that nonsense, young man. The Grand Rabbi has obviously refused to take any further part in this travesty. He is a man of honour. You, on the other hand, have crawled here to persist in these lies and half-truths.’
Johnny flicked ash on the floor. ‘Please believe me, Excellency, all the British Empire requires is for safe passage through the Dardanelles Strait.’
‘And what of the rumours that Constantinople is to be given to Russia?’
‘I can't comment on that, Excellency. Perhaps if you would agree to meet our negotiators, they will be able to put your mind at rest,' Johnny suggested.
‘There is no question of any such meeting until I have received assurances, regarding Constantinople. I am not about to hand over my country’s capital to its oldest enemy.’ Talat raised his hand to draw on his cigarette.
‘Excellency, I believe at our last meeting a certain understanding was reached. Promises were made,’ Johnny tried to sound tactful.
‘Come, come, a promise is not something that is kept indefinitely.’ Talat stubbed out his cigarette. ‘That promise is now dissolved.’
‘What, may I ask, would be considered indefinite?’
‘A guarantee,’ Talat said flatly. The distinction between the two types of agreement were perfectly clear to him.
Johnny finished his cigarette and glanced at Esther. This was going nowhere. 'In that case I've been instructed to reduce our offer to three and a half million pounds.’
'Are you going back on a promise made by the Grand Rabbi?' Talat pointed threateningly at Johnny.
'That promise has now expired. I believe no formal guarantees were given as no agreement on meeting our representatives were made,' Johnny said with an assurance he didn't feel.
Talat slammed his fists down. 'Do you think you can make a fool of me?'
***
‘I understand you have information regarding possible sedition?’ Enver Pasha asked as Breitner was shown into a rather vulgar study.
‘Yes Excellency, I’m sorry to come to your home like this, but I feel that the matter is of the utmost gravity.’
‘Major Breitner has discovered that Talat Pasha is entertaining an English spy, using Miss Esther Weisz as a means of disguising these meetings.’ Toprak added. He was eager to use Esther’s involvement to seek revenge for his spurned proposal.
‘What makes you believe this German diplomat is a British spy?’ Enver sat down on a divan and crossed his legs. ‘I do hope that you are not wasting my time on a jealous fairy tale, Herr Breitner?’
Breitner felt the veins in his face throb, he could not believe anyone would think him capable of such a thing. ‘The German diplomat in question is in fact a British diplomat I met before the war, he is called Johnny Swift. I saw him go into Talat Pasha’s house. This individual is highly manipulative and has obviously talked his way into Miss Weisz’s confidence...’
Talat put his hand up to stop Breitner. ‘I’m sure she is completely blameless.'
‘Thank you, Excellency, may I request that you have Johnny Swift detained?’
‘He must be interrogated, Excellency.’ Toprak added
‘That sounds messy and time consuming.’ Enver started to pace. ‘If Talat has been negotiating a peace deal with the Allies, I need to stop it now.’
‘Excellency, might I suggest turning Talat’s treachery to our advantage?’ Breitner said, ‘It is something of a gamble, but I believe Swift can be turned to our advantage.’