The Londum Omnibus Volume Two (The Londum Series Book 12)

by Tony Rattigan

  Jim slid the gun and the letter down the bar towards the man. ‘I have a letter of introduction from his cousin in Londum, Laszlo Kovach. I thought I might need some assistance while I was in Budapescht so I asked Mr. Kovach to recommend someone and facilitate an introduction.’

  ‘I see.’ The man picked up the gun and handed it to a sidekick and then picked up the letter. He read the name and address on the front and tapped it thoughtfully on his thumb for a few seconds. ‘Would you excuse me for a moment?’ he asked, politely. ‘Do help yourself to another drink while you’re waiting.’ He issued instructions to the two men beside him and turned and went back through the bead curtain. The two men picked the first two men up, got them into chairs and tried to bring them around.

  Jim did as he was bid and poured himself another glass of Unicum.

  A few moments later the Mediterranean looking man returned. ‘If you’d be good enough to follow me?’ he asked Jim.

  Jim finished his drink, stubbed his cigarette out and followed the man as he led the way through the bead curtain, the two conscious goons followed them. He took him along a short corridor into a large office. There were several chairs around and behind a desk sat an older man, who just stared at Jim. The younger, Mediterranean man, handed him the letter and stood at the side of the desk watching Jim closely.

  The man finished reading the letter and handed it to the younger man to read. When he was done he handed it back to the old man, who said to Jim. ‘So you are Jim Darby. Do you have your passport with you?’

  Jim was expecting this so had brought it along with him. He took it out of his pocket and slid it over the desk to the older man. He looked at it carefully and handed it to the younger man who examined it, nodded to the other man and handed it back to Jim.

  ‘I am Gyorgy Sandor,’ said the old man. ‘And this is my son, Domingo.’

  ‘Ah yes, I can see the family resemblance,’ replied Jim with a smile, noticing there wasn’t an ounce of similarity between the middle-aged, Slavic, white man in front of him and the olive-skinned, curly-haired, young man.

  ‘What can I say, his mother was a Portagee woman, I met her and fell hopelessly in love,’ grinned the older man. ‘He has her looks, but fortunately he has my brain for business.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s a fine addition to the family firm.’

  ‘Mr. Darby,’ said Gyorgy Sandor, ‘I’ll be honest, I’m an Albophile. I like Albion and all the things she has done for the world. Such marvellous inventions, such giants of trade and innovation. It is a wonder to behold, indeed that is why both my son and I speak Albion and why I sent my son to be educated at the finest schools in Albion. So you can be assured that I shall look on your request kindly. My cousin speaks highly of you in the letter and says you are a man to be “respected”.’

  Respect, respect, respect, thought Jim. That’s what it was all about with these gang bosses. You had to stand up for yourself of course, show you were capable of looking after yourself (which is why the little incident with the guards outside would likely have no comeback, as Jim was only defending himself) but above all, you had to treat these bosses with respect.

  ‘Now, my son tells me that you have some business for me.’

  ‘Mr. Sandor, I am honoured that such an important man as yourself would take the time to see me. I am grateful. Now, as to my business ...’ Jim looked round at the two goons standing by the door, ‘... perhaps we might speak privately?’

  ‘My son, of course, will remain.’ It wasn’t a question.

  ‘Of course.’

  Sandor nodded at Domingo who spoke to the goons and sent them out of the room. ‘Domingo,’ said Sandor. ‘Pour us all a drink, there’s a good boy.’ Domingo did the honours and poured brandies all round. Just as Jim opened his mouth to speak again, Sandor piped in with, ‘Jim Darby ... I think I have heard of you. Wasn’t it you that robbed the Bruxelles Diamond Exchange?’

  ‘Well, I will admit to being in Bruxelles at the time but apart from that, my lips are sealed.’

  They all laughed and Sandor glanced at his son as if to say, watch this one closely, you can learn a lot from him.

  ‘So, “fire away” as you Albion’s say,’ said Sandor.

  Jim spoke to both of them but only Sandor did the talking, while Domingo watched and listened silently. ‘Well, I’m going to be totally honest with you,’ said Jim. ‘I was hired to come to Budapescht and steal something from the Rooskians, from the safe in their embassy to be precise.’

  ‘Hired by whom, may I ask?’

  ‘I hope you’ll excuse me but I’m not at liberty to say.’

  ‘No matter, it isn’t important; I can draw my own conclusions. Hired to steal what, exactly?’

  ‘A treaty, signed by Rooskia and ... your Empire.’

  ‘Ah, so that spectacle at the Rooskian Embassy the other day was all your doing?’ asked Sandor.

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘It caused quite a ruckus, I can tell you. The papers have been full of it for days. The Rooskians claim it was an act of war and demanded that retribution be swiftly taken, but no one knew who to take it against as nobody came forward to claim responsibility.

  ‘Then when all the shouting died down and it was investigated, it turns out that only some bushes had been blown up. Shocking but hardly worth mobilising the troops over. So then the Rooskians changed their story and said it was an elaborate diversion to cover the attempted theft of the most precious items in the cultural exhibition, which had only been foiled by the intervention of their brave, Cossack guards.’

  ‘No mention of the embassy safe?’

  ‘None at all. Was that all you touched?’

  ‘I must admit I was tempted to grab myself some of those Faberge eggs but in the end I stuck to the plan and just stole the treaty from the safe.’

  ‘About this treaty, if it was between the Ostro-Ungarian Empire and Rooskia doesn’t that mean you committed an act of espionage against ... us?’

  ‘Technically yes but I’m hoping you’ll listen to my reasoning as to why I did you a favour, actually.’

  Sandor sipped his brandy and indicated that Jim should continue. Sandor was too old a hand to jump to conclusions without hearing all the evidence. Besides, he liked Albion and he was beginning to like Jim and was prepared to hear him out.

  ‘Rooskia is signing up with the Ostro-Ungarian Empire to conquer Polska and then join together to invade Deutschland, which is the real target.’

  ‘And this is a bad thing for Ungary, why?’

  ‘Well, war is never a good thing for anybody.’

  ‘It’s always good for business,’ Sandor pointed out.

  ‘True but think of all the innocent people that will get killed. Even if you and the Rooskies don’t lose any men at all, there are still the occupants of the two countries that will be defeated. Many will suffer and die.’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand your point,’ said Sandor. ‘This war will lead to the greater glory of the Ostro-Ungarian Empire as two more countries come under our control. Why should we loyal Ungarians not wish that? Why do anything to work against that end?’

  Jim heard him say the words but he could sense that there was an underlying current concealed in his words, as if it was expected of him to say them. ‘So, the Empire has another two countries under its thumb. Or should I say, the thumb of Osterreich and Rooskia? Because, let’s be honest, life hasn’t been so great as part of the Empire under the Osterreichs, has it? All the top government posts, all the administrators, everyone in a position of power is from Osterreich, aren’t they? Do you seriously think that will change if you take over Polska and Deutschland. It will be the same, only now you will have to put up with the Rooskies lording it over you as well. So for the sake of your own people even if nothing else, help me stop this war happening.

  ‘Besides, you don’t think the war will stop with Polska and Deutschland do you? Albion won’t stand by and let them be conquered, they’ll bring the
entire British Army to the continent to stop that. And then our forces in Bharat will probably attack Rooskia via Efghanistan. The whole damned world could get dragged into this. Is that what you want, a world war?’

  Sandor looked at Jim, at his son and then back to Jim. ‘So why are you here exactly, Mr. Darby? You presumably stole the treaty the other day, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Yes I did but after I had handed the treaty over to my contact, she and it went missing. So not only do we not have the treaty but now my side think I had something to do with it. I’ve come back to Budapescht to find out what happened to the treaty and my contact and, the Gods willing, recover them both.’

  ‘Is the actual treaty that important? If they are determined to go to war it will take more than the loss of a piece of paper to stop them, I would have thought.’

  ‘That was my point exactly when I was offered the job! But even though by itself it won’t stop the war, it is undeniable proof of Rooskian intentions. Apparently, my lot intend to use the treaty as a bargaining chip at the Council of Nations or something. They believe threat of exposure is enough to make the damned Rooskies think again about starting a war.’

  ‘I see. This is a tricky situation, you are asking us to work against our country.’

  ‘I am asking you to work against Rooskia and for your country,’ Jim pointed out.

  ‘Quite so,’ conceded Sandor. ‘And precisely what help would you require from us?’

  ‘When I was here before I could rely on the local spy network to find out things for me, furnish me with information and equipment. But now I’m here on my own, I don’t have the time to make my own contacts, find out the lay of the land. The people I’m working against will leave Budapescht very soon if they haven’t already. I need someone who has their own network of informants that can keep me apprised of what’s going on at the embassy. Keep a watch on it and let me know when they’re leaving and how, that sort of thing. Perhaps furnish me with a horse or a carriage. That’s all really, just some information and perhaps a bit of logistical support.’

  ‘Would you give us a few moments to discuss this? I know it’s rude but we would prefer to do it in our own language, if you don’t mind.’ At a nod from Sandor, Domingo poured them all another drink and offered Jim a cigarette, which he lit and sat back while they discussed the problem in Ungarian.

  They took their time and Jim was on his second cigarette when Sandor turned to him and said, ‘We have finished our deliberations.’

  Jim stubbed out his cigarette and paid attention.

  ‘Mr. Darby, I and my son Domingo and indeed yourself are criminals but above all that ... we are Men of Honour.’

  Well I am, thought Jim. I don’t know about you.

  ‘Politicians, governments and countries even, can lose their way and make bad choices,’ Sandor continued, ‘and when that happens, it is up to Men of Honour such are ourselves to make things right. Your assessment of the situation was, I believe, right, it is not in Ungary’s best interests to take part in this war and it would ultimately lead to us native Ungarians being even more sidelined than we are now.

  ‘Therefore, I have decided that we will help you in any way that we can. I will assign Domingo to work with you solely on this issue. As my son he has full authority to call on any assets the two of you may need from my organisation, to complete your mission.’

  Jim was slightly shocked. He thought that he would have to strenuously argue his case with them but it seems that they were more Albophile than he had imagined, and that they were willing to help him without any persuading.

  ‘Well, thank you,’ Jim replied. ‘This is for the good of all Europe, you realise. I am of course willing to reimburse you for any costs you may incur.’

  ‘You made an arrangement with my cousin regarding this letter?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then that will be payment enough. It is one big family so if you pay one of us, you have paid us all.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know how to thank you. With your assistance the chances that this venture is successful have increased a thousand-fold.’

  ‘I’m glad you feel that way,’ replied Sandor. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I must retire, I have other business to attend to. From now on you will deal directly with Domingo, he has my complete confidence so feel free to tell him anything you would say to me. Good luck in your endeavours.’ He stood up and offered his hand to Jim.

  Jim stood up, shook his hand and he and Domingo watched his father walk out of the room.

  Domingo turned to Jim, ‘Welcome aboard. What are your immediate needs?’

  ‘And you’re behind this too, are you?’ Jim asked him. ‘You’re not just doing it because your father said you have to?’

  ‘I would do it if my father instructed me to regardless of my personal feelings in the matter but in this case I am totally behind it, for the reasons you and my father stated.’

  ‘In that case, thank you. So, to business. My main concern is a man called Count Nikolai Petrov Seretsky, he is a member of the Okhrana, the Imperial Rooskian Secret Service. He accompanied Foreign Minister Grenko from Moskva. Whether they will return to Moskva together I don’t know but my gut tells me that Seretsky is the one that will have the treaty and the one we should be keeping an eye on. I want you to set someone to watch the embassy and find out if he is still there and when he will be leaving. Got anyone inside the embassy by any chance?’

  ‘I’ll check, I think so, in fact they may very well be the same people that your spy network are using. Some servants have many masters, eh?’

  ‘Er yes, about that. Like I said, it’s not my spy network and what is more they probably think I’m somehow involved in the disappearance of their colleague, so it might be wise not to let them know that I’m back in town. We don’t want them disrupting our plans by trying to take out their revenge on me because they think I’m working for the other side.’

  ‘How do I know you’re not working for the other side?’

  Jim looked at him for a moment then smiled, amused by the other man’s honesty, in asking that question. ‘You don’t ... but in the next few days you will have plenty of chances to see that I’m not ... and plenty of chances to kill me, if I am.’

  ‘Very well, I will take you at face value until proved otherwise. Where are you staying?’

  ‘The Railway Hotel.’

  ‘Right, go back there and get your things. You’ll be staying here from now on, we need to be able to move at a moment’s notice. The restaurant here is rather good so it shouldn’t be too hard, besides I don’t think you’ll be here long.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Jim, standing up. ‘I’ll go to the hotel then if you can get me a cab.’

  ‘I’ll get one of my men to get a cab and take you to the hotel. He’ll wait for you and bring you back.’

  They went from the office to the restaurant and Domingo set the ball rolling.

  ***

  When Jim returned to the Blue Parrot with his things, Domingo showed him to a room upstairs with a bed and asked him to join him once he had settled, in the office where he had spoken to Domingo’s father.

  Putting his suitcases on the bed Jim looked down at his finely tailored Saville Row suit and his expensive hand-made Italian shoes. There was no telling where this adventure was going to lead them, so he thought so he had better be more prepared for it.

  He quickly changed into a Harris Tweed suit and waistcoat. It was not only hard-wearing; it was also thick and kept you warm, even if you had to lose your outer coat. Also it was dark and didn’t show the dirt so much.

  Next he put on a pair of boots. He had had them specially made. They were very flexible and extremely comfortable to wear. They were leather, which made them waterproof, but they had thick, chunky, rubber soles which meant that he could move in them quietly and they also gripped better than leather soles would. Jim usually used them if he knew he would have to climb over rooftops, or up drainpipes. He had brought them along
as he originally thought he would be creeping around the embassy in the dead of night. Now they would do for his journey as they made excellent travelling footwear.

  He transferred his passport, his wallet and cigarette case etc. into his jacket pocket and went down to join Domingo.

  Domingo was in the office, packing the two backpacks that were on the desk.

  ‘Hello there,’ Jim greeted him. ‘I’ve been thinking that as we don’t know where we’ll be going or what we’ll be facing, perhaps it might be an idea to wear some rough clothes. Not shabby but certainly not your best suit. And boots maybe, not shoes.’

  Wordlessly Domingo pulled up one of his trouser legs revealing a well booted foot. Jim realised that he had also changed his clothing since Jim had left for the Railway Hotel.

  ‘Ah, I see,’ said Jim. ‘Well done.’

  ‘As you Albion’s say, “This isn’t my first picnic”, Mr. Darby.’

  ‘No, I guess not. What do I call you by the way ... Mr. Sandor?’

  ‘Domingo will be fine.’

  ‘Domingo it is then. What’s that you’re up to?’

  ‘As you so rightly pointed out, we don’t know where we’ll be going or how we’ll get there, so I thought some supplies might come in handy. Here, take a look.’

  Jim did as he was bid. Each backpack contained some food and drink, a pair of binoculars, a bottle of brandy, a revolver and extra bullets, a large hunting knife, some maps and a couple of extra jumpers. Wrapped around the outside of the pack was a blanket.

  ‘We’ll pretend we’re tourists, backpacking our way across Rooskia,’ Domingo told him. ‘You’ve got your passport with you, yes?’

  Jim nodded and patted his breast pocket. Then he took out one of the pistols and opened it up to check the action. While Jim was checking the pistol, Domingo opened the safe and took out some bundles of money.

  ‘There you go,’ said Domingo handing Jim a big bundle of bank notes. ‘Ungarian Forints and Rooskian Roubles. Should keep you in drink for a while. Best keep the money and weapons on you, we might have to ditch the packs at some point.’