Cargo of Eagles

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by Margery Allingham


  He drew his chair closer to the table and began to arrange the coins in a pile.

  ‘This is the whole story. I couldn’t tell it before and for reasons you’ll understand it must never be told again.

  ‘At the end of the War I was with a man called L. C. Corkran—you spotted him the other day in Killowen Square, Morty—doing one of those hush-hush jobs in France.

  ‘I’m afraid a lot of bribery and corruption came into it and the only reliable currency was gold. In the Middle East they used British sovereigns but in the Resistance business it was best to pay in twenty dollar gold pieces. When the show closed down the remainder of the cash, all this pirate’s hoard, among a lot of other items which we didn’t want to explain to the French Government, had to be brought home. At that point it had to be got away very quickly. Not all the people we dealt with were noble souls. They knew we had big money available. An ocean going yacht, the Clymene, which belonged to the Greek millionaire Christoff, a chap very much on our side, seemed the ideal transport. He had diplomatic immunity and so far as customs were concerned the yacht could get into any port in England with no questions asked. Our little outfit was so secret that no one was allowed to know about us but the fact must be faced that we weren’t secret enough. Somewhere along the line there was a leak. Teague and his pal Burrows who’d spent the War in the Merchant Navy were hanging around Marseilles, up to no good and looking for trouble. They had a couple of other thugs in tow, Goddard and Hunter and between them they ran a profitable line in smuggling and probably gun running between the Riviera and Algiers.

  ‘It looks as if they had a longer trip chasing the Clymene than they’d expected or they’d have headed back for an African port once they’d got what they wanted. As it was they were probably running short of fuel so they had to make a dash for the Hamble river and abandon the pirate craft.

  ‘But Christoff’s cargo was certainly hi-jacked in a big way and the really valuable part of it vanished without trace. To complicate matters there couldn’t be a full scale official enquiry because officially the cargo didn’t exist.

  ‘Christoff got most of his own property back and was compensated for the rest because he was a very wily bird and heavily insured. The Eagles were never mentioned. After the trial—when it was clear that Teague had no intention of speaking—the loss had to be placed very regretfully in the just-too-bad section, and filed for reference.’

  ‘Written off?’

  ‘The Department,’ said Mr Campion formally, ‘never explains its budget, but it has to ask for it just the same. Unfortunately, this does not mean that the funds are liberal—in fact the place is run on the well known shoe string. Things were getting pretty tight when I left them at the end of 1946 and I gather that they’ve got progressively worse since then. No more golden gifts to keep the natives friendly and precious little sugar for the weekly issue of office tea.

  ‘The Eagles may have been written off, but they weren’t forgotten. From then on any really big expenditure had to have sanction from Whitehall. Two months ago a situation arose in which a big sum of money—in Eagles, incidentally—was urgently needed. A British Agent, a woman, had been arrested in an area which is virtually behind the Iron Curtain, even if it pretends not to be. She wasn’t charged, but just held and questioned, probably very unpleasantly. It doesn’t look as if the people concerned were quite sure of what they’d got hold of, but they were prepared to take a long time finding out, using any methods they pleased.

  ‘Now in the ordinary way of business if a really valuable agent is caught and sentenced an exchange is arranged—it’s part of the game and very well understood by both sides. But this case is rather different because as yet they are uncertain if she really is what they suspect. To offer an exchange now, or at any other time come to that, is to admit the woman’s guilt and to damn everyone faintly connected with her. Break one link and a whole length of chain goes along with it. Corkran has his human side where his own people are concerned but an admission of that sort would endanger a lot of lives and destroy a whole network.’

  He paused to empty his cup. ‘There was—there still is—an alternative. Really a very simple one if you know that part of the world. Bribery. A well greased palm for politican and policeman alike. A lot of money, a cargo of Eagles distributed judiciously very near the top, would open any prison in the country.’

  ‘Lovely work if you can get it.’ Mr Lugg’s throaty tones brought the party back to immediate considerations. ‘More tea, one and all?’

  ‘The problem,’ continued Mr Campion, ‘might be summed up as “First catch your Eagle”. Corkran’s overtures to the money boys at the Treasury met with a remarkably frigid reception. In fact he was turned down at every level and finally right at the very top. But he had one shot left in the locker. If he could recover the cash which had been written off twenty years back—even if it was technically no longer his to dispose of—he need do no explaining or pleading to anyone.’

  He turned to Dido. ‘You don’t know the old boy, I suppose? Very few people do. He’s theoretically too dyed-in-the-wool to thumb his nose at Authority when it’s entrenched against him but the idea appeals to him all the same. A lot of his success had been built on it and now that he’s retiring he’s less respectful than ever.

  ‘In this case he said nothing to his colleagues in the department but called back a member of the firm who had left the business just after the war. Since I had no official standing no one could ask awkward questions. “Who owns that bag of gold you happen to be carrying?”: “The Treasury, I suppose, but we have other plans for it”.’

  ‘That situation had to be dodged. I’m afraid my efforts have caused you a lot of trouble.’

  Dido shook her immaculate head.

  ‘You laid the ghost for me,’ she said. ‘No one else could have removed Doll Jensen and her friends. Where is all the money, by the way—the rest of it. I mean? Somehow I don’t feel it would be safe in a kitchen cupboard, even now.’

  Mr Campion’s diffident smile broadened. ‘If you look in your cellar,’ he murmured, ‘you’ll find seventy-two bottles of excellent champagne. A very good year—I chose it myself. The cases are missing because they are on their way to foreign parts under a diplomatic seal. You can guess the contents. As for the specimens on the table, they will travel to London with the surveyors. All except two, which will never be accounted for.’

  He passed one across the table to Dido and another to Morty.

  ‘Just the thing for a watch chain.’

  Mr Lugg cocked his head to one side at a sound from above their heads.

  ‘Your refined Ding Dong,’ he said. ‘’Orrible friends you’ve got, ringing up at this time in the morning. As soon as I’ve packed this lot up I’m ex-communicating meself until late luncheon.’

  When Mr Campion returned to the kitchen the old man had disappeared and light was streaming through the curtains. The dawn chorus was reaching a crescendo and the table in the centre of the room was empty.

  Dido and Morty who were standing very close to each other by the open window did not hear his arrival and after a few moments he coughed discreetly. They turned towards him and he noticed with a flicker of amusement that Dido’s hair had lost its flawless perfection.

  ‘What was all that about?’ said Morty.

  Mr Campion surveyed them benevolently from over his glasses before he answered. ‘A chap from the Department. He rang to say “Mission accomplished”.’

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  First published in Great Britain in 1968 by Chatto & Windus

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