Crimson Jade

by George B Mair

  ‘Possibly not, but a most able impersonator has heard you speak for long enough to have learned your mannerisms. He’s said it for you and everything is on file. All clear?’

  ‘Blackmail?’

  ‘Correct,’ said Brandt. ‘Blackmail. But I’ve also got a video record of your affair with my wife, though to put your mind at ease the doped wine was always intended only for you. In fact it was the doped bottle which was originally on your tray when my wife messed about with room tabs, but fortunately one of my people saw what happened and switched them back in place.’

  ‘Bas?’ asked Grant.

  ‘A man can surely keep his own secrets in his own house! Enough that the exchange was corrected by one of my staff. But I decided to give my wife a disappointment, and so after her session with you I sold her a story which made her realise that the way you had behaved was due to a drug and not to any natural feelings. You see,’ he added, ‘she needed trimming down to size, because she thinks any man will jump when she snaps her fingers, and I only wanted to disappoint her. I thought her behaviour last night was disgusting. But I know her well enough to have understood, while watching you both, that her vanity was working overtime so I decided to wound her ego and set up a scene in her own rooms which would make her believe that I had really meant to compromise Sureen.’

  ‘You know, Grant,’ he continued, ‘women are very curious! My wife has almost everything any woman could want, yet she shows no appreciation. She’s never forgiven me for having no personal interest in her body and seems hell-bent on having affairs with people who belong to our own, or rather to my own, circle. Now this makes me look stupid in the eyes of the men she’s seduced, and though I’ve no doubt they don’t talk about it I don’t like the idea of them being able to laugh up their sleeves at me. So this time I decided to make it possible for her to have a major orgy by drugging you, and later took away her self-satisfaction by selling the idea that you had only reacted because of dope. It was a sure-fire way of irritating her, and she has very few flaws in her armour. But that’s one of them, so I used it for the first, and probably the last time, because she won’t fall for the same set-up twice. Frankly,’ he added, ‘it was really a sort of sick joke on my part, but done only to annoy her.’

  ‘Forgive my interrupting,’ said Grant, ‘but isn’t that a complicated way of handling things? If ever she found out wouldn’t she rate you as pathologically jealous and feel all the happier for having been able to upset you?’

  ‘But she won’t.’ Brandt sounded completely confident. ‘You are the only person who knows the background and you aren’t going to tell her.’

  ‘That,’ said Grant softly, ‘sounds like a threat.’

  ‘It is.’ Brandt spoke in Spanish to the house-boy and pointed to Grant’s glass. ‘A chaser, David?’

  Grant watched the youth mix a clarito and wondered why an Argentine clarito seemed so much more potent than a European extra-dry martini when they were really much the same thing. ‘So why won’t I tell her anything?’

  Brandt lifted his own second pink gin. ‘Cheers. And down with all villains.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning that I would like to come to terms with you, because I’d welcome your help. So if we can come to an arrangement I’ll pay one hundred thousand American dollars into any bank you care to name.’

  ‘And if I don’t?’

  ‘Don’t let’s talk about that,’ said Mikel. ‘You’ve got a good understanding of how these things are handled.’

  Grant had had enough of listening to people talking, but he accepted that for this mission talking rather than action seemed to lie at the heart of the assignment. He also sensed that a few paths were beginning to cross in a set-up which had been only a confused maze of double-talk, red herrings and treachery. ‘I’ll listen,’ he said briefly.

  Brandt stubbed out his cigar and switched to a Benson and Hedges king-size cigarette. ‘Look at yourself from my point of view. Obviously I’ve got to ask myself what brings you to Argentina since Latin America is a non-news area, apart from football. Our revolutions don’t interest NATO terribly much unless there’s a chance of some state doing a Cuba. And since I’ve got my ear to the ground, and know that nothing of NATO interest is going on below the surface, your arrival is just bound to rate as important. Now do you agree?’

  Grant was almost amused by the man’s approach. ‘You make it sound plausible. But so what?’

  ‘So this. By contrast almost everybody has an interest in the Middle East, which is very much a hot-news area, but at least one subject brings Latin America into that very very hot-news trouble-spot. How many former Nazis are living out their later middle age, or even old age, between Panama and Cape Horn?’

  Grant almost laughed. It had become a corny Argentine joke to say that so-and-so’s milkman or even the stud bull at such-and-such an estancia was Bormann in disguise.

  ‘True,’ agreed Mikel Brandt, ‘but the fact is that Eichmann was caught in Latin America and we all know that there have been others. Where NATO and various other countries share one big common interest is to make sure that the dead past can bury both its dead and its memories. We don’t want to see an already divided Germany subdivide further in the sense of how modern Germans would react to anything which resurrected stories of the bad days. And any arrest by Israel commandos of war criminals would do just that. Especially since the trial would be staged with maximum publicity. And any Israeli distraction would be an advantage to the Arab commandos. Now will you go along with that?’

  Grant began to see the drift of Brandt’s argument. Let the Nazi era pass into history. If any war criminals had escaped the drag-net then let them get on with it. A new generation had grown up with different attitudes to war. New trials would only reawaken old hatreds, disturb efforts to reunite Germany and be valuable propaganda in the hands of left-wing elements everywhere. Even so, it would be interesting to hear what Mikel Brandt had up his sleeve. ‘On balance I agree. Though I don’t quite understand where I figure.’

  ‘Well, let me tell you a story,’ said Brandt. ‘It will be about the third or so that you’ve heard since coming here. But none the worse for that. However,’ he added quietly, ‘in spite of the fact that you don’t believe me, I did monitor most of your conversations here with my relatives by marriage. You probably still think I was bluffing, because you had fitted up a most ingenious device for disturbing reception. And to be frank I wouldn’t have got on to it if it hadn’t been for two or three microphones … or do you still call them “bugs”? … which I had placed in various strategic situations earlier in the evening. Before dinner in fact. Naturally I tested to confirm that they were working and discovered, of course, that they weren’t. So I got my expert on the job and he traced the source of interference to your own apparatus which was beaming away efficiently from what, at first sight, seemed to be a spare electric razor in your brief-case. And if ever you return home please congratulate your technicians on a splendid job. One of the best my men have ever seen.’

  Brandt motioned to the house-boy to refill Grant’s glass. ‘Clearly it became interesting to watch your movements. You had obviously set the thing up as soon as you arrived and our reception was distorted beyond recognition. Anyhow while you were having drinks before dinner my men traced the source of interference to the brief-case which looked so innocent in my cloakroom. But that brief-case had interested me from the moment you left the remise. Because what, I said to myself, does a gentleman like the doctor wish with a brief-case when he is only going to a friend’s house for dinner? He needs no papers. He will normally keep cash in his wallet. He won’t use a razor, because he would shave before leaving his hotel and he doesn’t need a map, because he’s got a hired car with chauffeur.

  ‘No,’ said Brandt smugly, ‘I can’t say I was surprised when my people found it. But I decided to give you all the freedom in the world. When you withdrew before dinner, supposedly to refresh yourself, and pointed for th
e cloakroom, my man placed there to cover this very possibility switched the device to “on”. All clear? Okay! You checked and found it as you expected. But one must suppose that by that time you had given the house a clean bill of health, because you used that visit to the cloakroom to open the case and change your handkerchief. Shrewd! Even convincing! However when you left we found that the razor had been switched to “off”. So we supposed either that you weren’t worried about risk of being monitored during the meal. Or else that your equipment was short on power!’

  ‘Then came your visit to the conservatory.’

  He waved his hands expressively. ‘Seated between two cultivated ladies during dinner could hardly have been rated a danger period. So you had conserved power and became anxious only when you realised that my brother-in-law was incriminating himself. And we both know what happened. But my dear fellow, once bitten twice shy! On your way back downstairs you returned to the cloakroom. And what could be more normal after dinner? Though once again you opened your brief-case and mentioned in your usual casual style that the heat had given you a headache. I salute you,’ said Mikel. ‘Taking an aspirin was also very normal. But of course when my man again checked, the device was once more switched to “on”. So he followed instructions and turned it to “off”. All quite simple ‘From then on we received normally and put everything on tape. So my record is fairly complete. Then your suite is also quite well monitored. And as you know I use television cameras. There is one for the salon and another covering most of the bedroom. Well, by the time my wife had organised you into the Teak Suite your brief-case was sent up with the rest of your baggage from the Lancaster. And obviously you again switched on your equipment before my wife arrived. Though no one can blame you for not seeing that it had been neutralised by my own technician. He had wanted, in any case, to examine it and had half an hour or so in which to work while you were talking to me about Peyote extract and carbachol. An essential circuit was removed, and although you would check on the signal light to see that it was working, that same little signal only flashed because my own man had attached a different power source. Do you follow?’

  ‘You have extremely good English,’ said Grant, ‘but of course your father was English. However, in a nutshell, you tampered with my property when I wasn’t present and then became guilty of assault by taking photographs of my reactions while under the influence of a drug illegally administered by yourself or one of your agents.’

  Brandt smiled broadly. ‘Since when have you been concerned about legality, David? But I hope I’ve made my points. You are on audio-visual record, which is all that matters from my angle.’

  ‘You’ve made your points,’ said Grant. ‘But where does the former Greater German Reich fit in and what exactly do you want me to do?’

  ‘Technically,’ said Brandt, ‘Cyp is a traitor. He’s a Brazilian by birth, but has always been willing to do practically anything for money, and although he was selling essential ore to the Allies he managed to off-load a good deal to Germany as well. It was taken across to Peru and then to one or other of the Atlantic ports in Venezuela, the Guianas, Brazil, Uruguay or Argentina. Historians now rave about how Chinese Nationalists smuggled the treasure of their country through thousands of miles of war zone before organising it across to Formosa, as it was then called. But the story of Cyp’s smuggling activities is almost as good, and remember that Brazil was one of your allies. So Cyp rates as a traitor to his own country. And for cash! Not some political thing.’

  He lit a second Benson and Hedges. ‘But if Tel Aviv gets on to his other activities he would be a candidate for arrest, since the Israeli secret police have long arms and Cyp was an important contact man on the underground route from Europe to Latin America. One of his more remote estates on the Rio Negro was a clearance point for several important Germans who still rate as war criminals, and it was Cyp’s political pull which enabled several of them to take up new identities in new countries. Though of course it cost them a lot of money. Martin Bormann wasn’t one of Cyp’s guests but several rated almost as important.’ Brandt waved his hands expressively. ‘Obviously I don’t want Cyp involved in arrest or abduction by any commando Israelis. It would cause too much scandal and might have a back-lash on my own interests. But,’ he added, ‘it could happen, because top men make enemies and their faces are seen by too many people in the newspapers. Quite possibly some small men who worked for Cyp in the past might now decide that he is ripe for blackmail, and the ideal way to make him pay would be a threat involving an Israeli tip-off. If that is the word.’

  He sipped his pink gin and munched a few nuts while Grant tried to collect his thoughts. ‘You can prove all this? ’

  Brandt smiled sarcastically. ‘My dear fellow! Of course. So let’s consider Cyp briefly. You’ve seen proof that he enjoyed killing Indians, and he’s on tape admitting that he swindled his partner. This is not on record but it is true: Pedro Bosca jumped into the river because he discovered that his wife had been having an affair with Cyp for months before their business interests merged. And I can prove it if need be. We do have the record of his admissions about arranging the murders of four men in Manaos. And I’ve just given you background to his war activities so surely you’ll agree that Cyp isn’t a very pleasant person.’

  ‘I still don’t know what you want me to do,’ said Grant.

  ‘Pardon. I thought it would be obvious,’ said Brandt. ‘I want you to kill him.’

  ‘Why?’ And Grant cursed as he spoke the word. He was sick of asking questions.

  ‘Because my wife is his heir. And he must be worth at least twelve million sterling.’ Brandt studied Grant thoughtfully. ‘The rest should be obvious. You must also kill my wife, and the set-up is this. The exact hour when Cyp dies must be provable beyond doubt: and my wife must be killed before she can sign any document afterwards. Her existing will is in some unknown bank, and it would be impossible for me to get hold of the thing even if I discovered the bank by using some truth technique or other. But I’ll settle for Cyp’s millions instead. And so long as she dies before she can make a second will her inheritance from her brother will automatically be controlled by myself. Unfortunately, although I tried to look as far ahead as possible and cover every eventuality when our marriage contract was drawn up, I couldn’t interfere with her wish to dispose of her own property at that time. In other words she could draw up her own will any way she chose. But,’ he said quietly, ‘most wills should be redrafted in the event of the person having a major capital appreciation or receiving any substantial legacy. So my solicitors got several clauses inserted to cover that possibility and any existing will at the time of her death will be handled as she has instructed. But if she happened to inherit any sum or gift in excess of fifty thousand American dollars without re-thinking that will and stating in writing how she wanted the windfall to be disposed, then it reverts automatically to myself as her next of kin since I, as her husband, would be familiar with her wishes and would therefore act on her behalf.’ He smiled cynically. ‘The thing is wrapped up in very technical legal jargon, and no doubt Cyp’s people felt that it wasn’t important.’

  ‘Or possibly they were bribed,’ said Grant dryly.

  Brandt laughed aloud. ‘Quite possibly.’

  ‘Even quite certainly,’ Grant suggested.

  ‘Even quite certainly.’ Brandt was amused. ‘You are beginning to understand our tortuous Latin American minds,’ he said.

  Grant was forced to interrupt. ‘But if Cyp were to die, his own wife would inherit.’

  Brandt held out his glass while the boy poured a third gin. ‘Cyp,’ he said at last, ‘is now a widower. As from a few moments ago.’ He pointed to an oblong panel behind Grant and to the left of the door. ‘My staff use lights to flash signals. I hate noise, and our lighting code works very well. Of course, I always sit here facing the door when I’m expecting any news, since I find that if guests become interested in the flickering lights I’ve got to start tel
ling lies. Which I hate. Anyhow, Cyp is now a widower and can be eliminated in your own good time. Though it might be better to wait a little. There’s really no point in having three deaths from the same house more or less on top of one another.’

  Grant knew that he had to ask the obvious question.

  ‘She died of a bullet fired from our grounds this evening by one of my gunmen,’ replied Brandt. ‘The police will arrive at almost any moment and eventually hear about the bomb which was thrown inside the Teak Suite this afternoon. And how could you have guessed that Cyp’s late wife was below you in the conservatory, tropical house or call-it-what-you-will at the time. In the light of the shooting tonight the bomb must have been intended for her and when it hit the wrong room the murderer simply waited his chance for a follow up after sunset. Having tried a bomb which didn’t work properly in the afternoon it will make sense to the authorities that he chose a gun the second time.’ He paused. ‘Though it may not have been a man,’ he added, ‘because my men picked up a woman a short time ago. She was caught crossing our lawns by one of the night patrols and I’m told that she was carrying a rifle from which only one shot has been fired. It looks as if this woman did the killing, but of course we won’t know until police check rifling marks.’

  Grant felt sick. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘I thought you’d understand,’ said Brandt. ‘Although you switched on background music when you were sending out messages before and after dealing with Roca, and although you spoke that dreadful mixture of French and English, it wasn’t enough to prevent my people catching your frequency in time to get the last of the woman’s conversation. We realised that she planned to visit you, and frankly the opportunity was too good to miss. Cyp’s wife would have been shot anyhow, but it was wonderful to know that if we timed our programme accurately we would be able to pin the killing on to someone close to yourself. And it was so simple! I agree that if we hadn’t known you were going to have a visitor, and that she would probably hide somewhere near the shrubberies until around midnight, we might never have spotted her. But my men did catch her, because I had estimated that she would hide near the narrowest strip of lawn, and that is exactly what she did. She was caught opposite the open drawing room windows, not more than two hundred metres from the target area, so after that it was only a matter of patience on the part of my men until Cyp’s wife walked into the sights of a natural-born marksman who got her first shot with the rifle now carried by the girl.’