Operation Blue Sapphire

by David B. Gilmore

  “I’ll make the call and set it up for tomorrow.”

  “Do you want me to go along?”

  “No, I’ll meet with him. Why don’t you continue looking for a place we can store the guns we will be getting from Kruger.”

  “Okay, Jacques, make the call.”

  Du Maurier nodded and reached for the telephone.

  Bunnel walked the couple of blocks to where Emma, Miller, and LaCroix were waiting in the car. It was the first time all four of them had ventured out together since shortly after they had arrived. Bunnel climbed into the back seat.

  “How did it go, Jimmy?” asked Emma.

  “As expected, I ruffled a few feathers. He sure wasn’t expecting to see me this morning. It was like rats scurrying to abandon a sinking ship when the receptionist announced me. He wants me to give him a call early next week and meet at the restaurant where he was going to meet Preston. He says he’ll talk to the owner with me and maybe ask around at the other stores. He has no idea Henri and I have already done that. I told him I’d give him a call.”

  “I wonder what that’s all about?” asked Emma.

  “I think he’s trying to lead me to a dead end and hopes once we talk to the lady together, I’ll be satisfied and leave him alone.”

  “But he doesn’t know I’ll be going with you and we’ll confront him about who the man was that he talked to on the street near the cafe,” said Emma.

  “That should prove to be an interesting meeting,” said Miller. He started the car and began to drive to the street where du Maurier’s office was situated. He was lucky and found a parking spot on the corner where they could observe the office but not be seen.

  Near noon Bunnel spotted du Maurier and Chevalier emerging from the building. He pointed them out, and with a small pair of binoculars, they all got a good look at them.

  “Okay, Vern, let’s go. There are some things I want to get. Tomorrow, we come back here, with both cars, and start following them,” said Emma.

  The next day Emma rode with Bunnel. They would follow Chevalier. Miller and LaCroix, in another car, were ready to tail du Maurier. The four of them sat in their cars, biding their time. Both du Maurier and Chevalier had gone to their office and had not left. Emma’s team had not observed anyone coming or going from the building. It wasn’t until afternoon that du Maurier came out onto the street and hailed a passing taxi. Miller started the engine of his car and took off in pursuit.

  “At least they’re moving. I hope our guy won’t decide to work all day,” said Bunnel.

  “You have your wish, Jimmy,” said Emma as she handed Bunnel a small pair of binoculars. Bunnel watched Chevalier get into a car parked on the street.

  As he pulled the car into traffic, Bunnel was careful to keep a moderate distance from Chevalier’s car. He made sure he was not close enough to be spotted but not so far away he would lose Chevalier at an intersection. They followed as the Frenchman wove his way through the city.

  “I don’t know where he’s going. This is all a new part of the city for me. Everything looks older and very colonial. Wherever he’s going, he seems to be in a hurry,” said Bunnel.

  “Just stay with him, Jimmy. We have a map, so we won’t get lost,” replied Emma.

  “The streets are busy enough, I don’t think he knows we’re following him,” said Bunnel.

  Chevalier drove at a quick pace but not dangerously.

  Suddenly Bunnel exclaimed, “Oh, no, he’s making a U turn. If I do the same, he’ll know we’re following him.” Rather than make the turn, Bunnel quickly pulled the car into an open parking space. “After he goes by, we’ll turn around, but we may have lost him.”

  “No, it’s okay, Jimmy. Look, he pulled up in there, in front of the Great Eastern Hotel,” said Emma as they watched Chevalier get out of his car and hand the keys to a waiting valet. After the valet sped away in the car, Chevalier remained outside the hotel.

  “What do you think he’s doing? Do you think he’s waiting for someone who’s going to pick him up?” asked Bunnel.

  His question was answered a few minutes later when a taxi arrived. From it, out stepped a slender woman with long, jet black hair.

  “That’s du Maurier’s wife! I recognize her from the picture he had on his desk,” exclaimed Bunnel.

  After the taxi pulled away, Chevalier and Madame du Maurier embraced each other and Chevalier leaned over and kissed her.

  Emma picked up the camera she had purchased the day before and started taking pictures. “One more, just like that one!” she said as Chevalier slid his arm around the woman’s slender waist and they proceeded to enter the hotel. Emma handed Bunnel the camera. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  “Watch for traffic, you don’t want to get hit by a car,” Bunnel warned, but Emma was already half way across the street.

  A few minutes later, Emma came out of the hotel and walked back to the car with a smile on her face. Getting into the car, she said, “You can relax, Jimmy. Trust me, they’re going to be in there awhile.”

  “They get a room?”

  “One was waiting for them. The clerk knew Chevalier by name. I don’t think this is the first time they’ve come here on an ‘outing.’ They couldn’t wait to get to their room. They almost knocked over a bellboy on the way to the elevator. The clerk just shook his head. So no, this isn’t their first time here.”

  “I sure wasn’t expecting this this afternoon. I figured a tour of the docks, a warehouse, or a stop off at a club. Not a rendezvous with his business partner’s wife,” said Bunnel. “When they come out, we’ll have to be sure to get some more photos. Because if we don’t, Henri and Vern won’t believe us.”

  “In Vern’s next cable to Colonel Wyman, we’ll have to let him know what we’ve uncovered in Calcutta. Make sure he knows we haven’t wasted any taxpayer dollars,” Emma replied in jest.

  Bunnel laughed. “Uncovered under the covers.”

  “Precisely. I wonder how long this has been going on. They don’t seem too bashful about being seen.”

  “They’re reckless, which is something we have to keep in mind. It can make them dangerous.”

  “Very good point.”

  “Nothing good is going to come of this.”

  “Are you speaking from experience, Jimmy?”

  “Me? No, but a buddy of mine I was serving with before Colonel Wyman found me had an affair with a married woman, and it didn’t turn out well for him. It was like something out of a bad picture show. My friend really went through the wringer. Just be ready to take a lot of pictures, Emma.”

  “Don’t worry, I have plenty of film. While we wait, how about one of those Pall Malls of yours?”

  “I was afraid this was where he was going. This is going to be a nightmare,” said Miller.

  The facility Miller and LaCroix pulled into was bustling. The parking lot looked full, and hundreds of people were walking about the grounds. The area was packed with servicemen, both British and American. Many were in groups and others had brought dates. The men were all in pressed uniforms and the women in their finest dresses and hats.

  “Where are we?” LaCroix asked.

  “Henri, this is your chance to see Calcutta’s version of Fair Place. We’re at the Calcutta Race Course.”

  LaCroix laughed. “Fair Grounds, Vern. Fair Grounds. But you’re right, keeping tabs on du Maurier here is going to be more than a nightmare. It’s going to take a small miracle. I’ve never seen so many people at a track in my life. What’s so special about today?”

  “As far as I know, nothing. The other track is closed for the duration of the war, so this is the only game in town. Plus, it’s a nice day, a good day for an outing.”

  “Nothing like a disaster or a war to make people want to gamble. It makes sense. Most of these fellas don’t know where they are going next and are wondering if they’ll be alive next month, let alone survive the war. In the bigger picture, parting with a few dollars at the track doesn’t matter m
uch,” added LaCroix.

  As Miller pulled the car to a stop, LaCroix stepped out. “If we get separated, I’ll follow him in a taxi and meet you back at the house.”

  Miller opened the glove box and handed LaCroix the small pair of binoculars. “Here, take these, and I’ll see you inside. Good luck!”

  LaCroix kept an eye on du Maurier and was relieved he didn’t go into the Turf Club. Not being a member, he knew he wouldn’t be allowed in and could easily lose him. At the same time, he took in his surroundings. The facility wasn’t anything like he expected. It was very opulent, not only for Calcutta, but for anywhere. Glancing inside, he saw the normal betting cages, yet outside, Indians had set up tables and were taking bets. The nice weather had brought a crowd. Both servicemen and civilians were accompanied by their girlfriends and wives. Looking behind him, he saw more and more people coming through the gate.

  Du Maurier purchased a racing form and took a position on the rail near the finish line. LaCroix seated himself in the grandstand and, with the glasses, could easily keep an eye on du Maurier without being detected. Scanning the crowd, he noticed Miller walking toward the paddock and went down to join him.

  “He’s down by the finish line. I could keep an eye on him from the grandstand, but if he goes inside, I’ll lose him,” said LaCroix.

  “We ought to split up. If you want, I’ll stay down here and get as close as I can. It’s going to be difficult,” said Miller.

  “Good idea. Between races is going to be the time we have to be on top of our game. People will be moving all around. Keep an eye him and the crowd. Why don’t you get us a couple of programs. We want to blend in as much as possible.”

  “Will do, Henri.”

  LaCroix and Miller acted like the rest of the racing enthusiasts in attendance. LaCroix circled the winner of the first race and had a disgusted look on his face. The kind of look betters have when their picks don’t come in.

  As they watched, du Maurier did nothing out of the ordinary. He studied his racing form and occasionally talked with one of the other spectators. Normal and typical behavior for the track.

  Before the beginning of the second race, the crowd intensified at the rail. Du Maurier felt a slight nudge. It was Rurik Kulikovskaya, the Russian he had called.

  “I’m happy you are here. Did you bring Jelena?” asked du Maurier.

  “She left me. Ran off to the south with one of her girlfriends and five thousand pounds Sterling. She went there to study with some mystic and get closer to God. I’m not worried. When her new-found spiritual guide goes through all her money, she’ll see what a farce it all was and be back.” Kulikovskaya laughed. “I’ll probably end up sending her the train fare. What did you want to see me about?”

  “I need you to put your demolition skills to work,” replied du Maurier in a hushed voice.

  “Why?”

  “We have a problem that has arisen, and it needs to be taken care of. If not, our entire operation could be in jeopardy.”

  “It is that serious? How did this happen?” asked Kulikovskaya.

  “I don’t know. It just did. In the past everything went smoothly. Now I’m dealing with a customs official who became a bit too inquisitive. He’s blackmailing me. You know what will happen next? He won’t be satisfied with a simple pay off, he’s going to come back and want a percentage. You know how these people are. Once they get their foot in the door, greed takes over and they want more.” Jacques patted the Russian on the shoulder and continued. “We have worked too hard putting this together. There’s going to be a lot of money to be made, now and in the future. I’ll be damned if I let some second rate customs official get in the way.”

  “There isn’t any other way?”

  Du Maurier ignored the question. “I want it to look random. Something that can be blamed on, say, a rogue Japanese agent or one of the Indian independence groups.”

  “You really mean this,” said Kulikovskaya, surprise registering in the lines on his forehead.

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t know, Jacques. I understand we need to protect our interests, but what you’re asking for means a lot of risk. Innocent people could be harmed or killed. I don’t know.”

  “Rurik, trust me, this is the best way.”

  “I really don’t like being involved in something that is going to be so public. If we have a problem, let’s just eliminate it, nice and privately.”

  “We can’t. I understand what you are saying, but that way would draw more suspicion. His superiors or the police would start looking at what he was working on, and it would lead them right to me. If that happens, we could be shut down.”

  Kulikovskaya felt uncomfortable and glanced at the crowd. “Jacques, were you followed here?”

  “No, I made sure of it. That’s why I wanted to meet you here.”

  After further discussion Kulikovskaya reluctantly nodded in agreement. “How big of an area are we talking about?”

  “Three hundred fifty square meters.”

  “Jacques, we’ve been doing business for a while, but this, this I just don’t like.”

  “I understand. How much is it going to cost?”

  “I want five kilos out of the next shipment.”

  “Let’s cut to the chase and meet in the middle. Two and half,” replied Jacques.

  “Agreed, two and a half. Anything else?”

  “I want a timer on it. Either Simone or Margaux will be by to pick it up. Show her how it works, and make sure she knows what she’s doing. I don’t want any accidents.”

  “When do you want it?”

  “Monday or Tuesday at the latest.”

  “Call me. It’ll be ready.”

  The crowd around them was ecstatic. The race had been too close to call. Before discarding their betting slips, everyone waited for the official announcement.

  Kulikovskaya turned his racing program to the fourth race and showed it to du Maurier. “Forth race, the number two horse, Raj’s Splendor. He’s the one you want.”

  “But the odds are forty to one, and it’s his first race.”

  “The turf is firm and fast today. He’s going to win. Trust me on this, Jacques. Besides, what’s a few rupees?” Before du Maurier could answer, his friend was gone.

  After the third race, du Maurier walked to the paddock and looked over the horses. He watched as the number two horse, Raj’s Splendor, was walked into his stall. He was much taller and bigger than the other horses. He had a sparkle in his eyes that du Maurier liked. When a groom tried to saddle him, he raised his front legs high in the air and attempted to bolt. Even though the horse had never run before, du Maurier liked him.

  As the trumpet sounded, signaling the arrival of the horses on the track, du Maurier quickly placed a wager, the equivalent of $100 U.S., on the number two horse to win. Additionally, in the same amount, he placed a combination bet on the number two and six horses. Confident in his choices, he walked back out to the rail for the beginning of the race.

  As the race began, Raj’s Splendor led the charge. Exiting the first turn, he was still in the lead. All down the backstretch he kept the pace and continued to lead the pack. Heading into the final turn, his lead diminished and the race was now open to any of the horses.

  Exiting the final turn, everything would be determined by how he did in the final stretch. The jockey twice applied his whip. Raj’s Splendor reacted as if it were the signal he had been waiting for. The horse dug deep inside himself and started leaving the pack behind. The closer he came to the finish line, the faster and faster he ran, putting more and more distance between himself and the pack.

  The crowd reacted enthusiastically and cheered him on. No one expected him to win, let alone lead the entire race. Du Maurier could hear the thunder of the horse’s hooves on the turf as he crossed the finish line, eight lengths ahead of the next horse, number six. In this race there would be no decisions; the winner was unmistakably clear.

  LaCroix and Miller watched d
u Maurier visit the ticket window.

  “Vern, bring the car around. I watched him and he bet big. He’s going to have a good pay out. Lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same place. If it were me, I’d collect my winnings and be going.”

  “On my way, Henri.”

  LaCroix and Miller were waiting in the car and watched du Maurier climb into a taxi and leave the race course.

  “What do you think?” asked LaCroix.

  “Nothing peculiar. He talked with a man between races for a bit, but is that so strange?”

  “I saw that but couldn’t hear what they were saying. They both seemed to be studying their racing forms.”

  “Think du Maurier was getting a tip?”

  “Could be. Races are fixed every day. Usually, it’s the owners that do the fixing. Calcutta shouldn’t be any different. I saw the horse he bet on. Fine looking animal, but I sure wouldn’t have bet on him, not with the way the odds were.

  “I really didn’t see anything but normal behavior.”

  “I didn’t either. The man just went to the track,” concurred Miller.

  Miller followed du Maurier to a residential section. When the taxi let him out, du Maurier walked up and unlocked a small gate.

  “This must be his house,” said LaCroix as he jotted down the address.

  In the office of the Confederation of Indian Workers, Kaaliya Gurjar set down the telephone receiver and turned to his aide, Hajar Poriya. Gurjar had a concerned look on his face.

  “Is anything wrong?” asked Poriya.

  “It was one of our benefactors. The other day I mentioned my meeting with the American reporter and he did not seem to mind. Now he is more curious. Tell me again what happened when you followed her.”

  “She had a driver waiting for her. Like I told you, it was easy following them, and they did nothing out of the ordinary. It is just that the market was so crowded with people, cars, and carts, and I did not want to get too close and be seen. They probably parked and went into the market. I did the same but did not see them. It is a big place and it would be hard to find them. It is not unusual. In case we get separated when we go there, my wife and I always agree on a place to meet.”