Hussein, who still seemed depressed at not having been allowed to accompany the sortie, said, ‘Sayyed Nawaf is not here.’
‘Not here?’
‘As soon as you had left the Palace he ordered his car. I understood that he caught the midday flight to Bahrain.’
The Ruler said, ‘No doubt there was business which had to be attended to. If he is not back by tomorrow, I will myself sign the order authorising the extension.’
Chapter Sixteen
Open Line
Hugo drove back to Mohara with Cowcroft. They passed one or two patrolling cars, but the streets seemed quiet. A number of shops, which had been barricaded that morning, were already taking down their shutters.
‘News travels fast in this neck of the woods,’ said Cowcroft.
When they reached police headquarters Hugo said, ‘I think I ought to put a call through to London.’
‘Anyone in particular?’
Taverner, at the Foreign office. I’ve got his number and extension. Better make it person to person.’ He looked at his watch. Two o’clock. We’re four hours ahead. He should be at his desk by now.’
‘You’re planning to tell him about this morning?’ said Cowcroft thoughtfully.
‘That’s my idea. How long does it take to get through?’ ‘Depending on sand storms and sunspots, anything from five minutes to five hours. I’ll book it for you.’ When he came back he was carrying a long flimsy sheet of paper in his hand. He said, ‘This came in yesterday evening. I forgot it in the excitement. It’s about your friend.’
‘Which friend?’
‘Colonel Delmaison. Didn’t someone try to kill him in London?’
‘That’s right. A pair of dissatisfied customers from the Dominican Republic.’
‘Well, they’ve arrested them.’
‘Our policemen are wonderful.’
‘Not the British police. The Americans. They were holding them temporarily at Kennedy Airport. Some irregularity in their passports. When they got word from Soctland Yard, they made it permanent.’
Hugo was looking at the Telex message. Something in it was wrong. He worried at it for a moment before he realised what it was. Then he said, ‘Either they’ve got the date wrong, or they’ve arrested the wrong men.’
‘Can’t be the wrong men. Look at the last sentence; “Identified by fingerprints on car”.’
Hugo started to read the message again. He said, ‘Then the date’s wrong. The American immigration people picked them up off a flight on the evening of March 23rd. That was a Thursday! Right?’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
‘But the explosion was on Friday evening. That was March 24th.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure. I remember someone at the meeting next morning making a crack about Lady Day. That’s March 25th.’
‘All right. They planted the stuff on the Thursday and cleared out quick. The Colonel didn’t happen to need his car until Friday evening.’
‘But,’ said Hugo slowly, ‘Colonel Rex told us that the same men had attacked him, less than an hour before the explosion.’
‘I suppose it was the same men.’
‘It’d be a pretty long shot if two quite different parties had been gunning for him at the same time and the same place.’
‘I suppose so,’ said Cowcroft. Tell me the whole story. I’ve only heard bits of it so far.’
Hugo told him the story. When he had finished Cowcroft grunted, and said, ‘Police messages aren’t often wrong about facts. Inferences and conclusions, yes. Not things like dates and names.’
‘But how—?’
‘You say the Colonel wouldn’t let a doctor examine him.’
‘No. But I talked to the Inspector who saw him that evening. He said there’s no doubt he was hurt. He saw the blood soaking through the bandage.’
‘You draw a lot of blood out of the palm of your hand with a razor blade.’
‘You mean he knew that someone had planted a bomb in his car?’
‘It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried a caper like that on him I expect. He’d take the usual precautions. Put some sort of tell-tale in the car. Talcum powder sprinkled on the floor, or a spot of grease on the door handle.’
Hugo was thinking it out.
‘Then he faked up the attack so he’d have an excuse to ask the other chap to drive his car?’
‘If that’s right, it looks as though you’re teamed up with a pretty cold-blooded sort of sod.’
‘Oughtn’t I to tell someone?’
‘How are you going to prove it, now?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Hugo unhappily.
‘Anyway, I don’t suppose there’s a clause in your contract that lets you out if your partner turns out to be a murderer, is there?’
Hugo was saved from answering this by the telephone. The exchange said, ‘Your London call, Mr. Greest.’ And then, ‘I have Mr. Greest waiting for Mr. Taverner.’ There followed the usual interminable pause, and then Arnold Taverner’s voice, as clearly as if he had been in the next room. ‘Greest? Good of you to call. How is everything at your end?’
Well? How was everything at this end?
It needed an effort of the imagination to visualise the man he was speaking to, warming his hands, perhaps, at the small fire in his grate, sniffling a little with the last cold of a dismal English spring. How could he explain to Arnold Taverner, surrounded by the solid, if faded, certainties of the British Empire, that as a result of the cheese-paring tactics of the British Government, he, Hugo Greest, was out on the end of a limb?
‘We’ve had a bit of trouble here,’ he said.
‘Trouble?’
Hugo did his best of explain. He said, ‘It seems to have blown over for the moment.’
‘That’s fine, then.’
‘All the same, I think we ought to arrange to have some forces standing by. Just in case.’
‘What forces?’
‘A couple of companies of motorised infantry would make all the difference.’
‘Do you suggest that I ask the Ministry of Defence to fly a half battalion of infantry to Umran?’
‘I’m not suggesting anything so stupid,’ said Hugo. ‘But we’ve still got influence with the Oman Scouts. Couldn’t it be arranged for them to pay us a visit of ceremony? The Ruler would gladly invite them.’
‘I could suggest it. I am very doubtful of it being agreed. We are exceedingly cautious about appearing to interfere, even indirectly, in the internal affairs of another state.’
‘The Americans don’t think like that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘They’ve got a light cruiser standing off Umran now, ready to land a party of Marines immediately the balloon goes up.’
‘Are you sure of that?’
‘I had it from a very reliable source.’
There was an interval of silence, and then Mr. Taverner said, ‘I don’t think that would change our attitude.’
‘For God’s sake,’ said Hugo, losing his temper, ‘stop talking about attitudes and talk about facts. There’s a valuable plum here. A bloody valuable plum. Something that could make all the difference to our balance of payments next year. Do we want it, or don’t we?’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Because if we don’t want it, the Americans do. They’ve got a trade mission here right now. And the Russians have got one coming down from Iran next week. And the Chinese have got an Iraqi agent on the spot; at least, he was until he blotted his copybook and was booted out yesterday. They aren’t sitting round like a lot of desiccated old spinsters talking about attitudes—’
‘I don’t think,’ said Mr. Taverner coldly, ‘that we ought to continue this discussion. Please remember you’re speaking on an open line.’
The click with which he rang off added an impressive full stop to the sentence.
‘Nice work,’ said Cowcroft. ‘I loved desiccated old spinsters. Not that it’ll
do a mite of good. I’ve been dealing with the Foreign Office for thirty years. You’ve as much chance of getting a positive decision out of them nowadays as you have of cutting your hair with a motor mower. They don’t recognise concrete problems any longer. Awkward, sordid, things like men and money. They think in terms of attitudes and aspects and tendencies.’ He paused, and added unexpectedly, ‘It’s the same thing with critics. Had you noticed? When they get old and tired they don’t bother to read the book they’re meant to be criticising. They hang it on to a convenient tendency. It’s less trouble.’
Hugo was only half attending. The other half was revising his opinion of Martin Cowcroft. It was interesting to discover a real mind behind that leathery facade.
‘Is that right about the Russians?’
‘I got it from Nawaf. He says one of their deputy trade ministers is coming on here next week from Teheran.’
‘I hope it keeps fine for him,’ said Cowcroft. ‘Where is Nawaf? There’s a rumour he cleared out when the trouble started.’
‘The Ruler didn’t seem to know that he’d gone. If he has bunked it’d mean he was in with Dr. Kassim. Funny. He didn’t seem that sort of person at all.’
‘Arabs are like that,’ said Cowcroft. ‘You can never tell what sort of people they are, until it’s too late to do anything about it. Come down and get some grub at the police canteen. I think we’ve earned it.’
Hugo slept well that night. The next morning after breakfast he walked down to the jetty. There were one or two purchases he still had to make for his house-warming party. He told himself that it was a matter of duty, to get to know Bob Ringbolt better. That was the reason for the party. ‘And if he brings Tammy with him, I’ll be very glad to see her too,’ he said to himself. ‘She’s a nice girl.’
Moharram was taking down his shutters. Hugo said, ‘I noticed you were shut yesterday. Mo. Why was that?’
Moharram grinned, and said, ‘Yesterday, I went out fishing.’
‘You’re a bloody liar. But if that’s your story, you stick to it. I want some olives and a jar of salted peanuts. And some packets of crisps. Have you got a boat?’
‘A boat?’
‘You said you went out fishing.’
‘Boats, you get them at the dhow harbour. Nice boats. They let you have one for the day or the week.’
‘A day would do.’
‘I fix it for you. When you want him?’
‘Her.’
‘You want a girl, too?’
‘No, no. Boats are female. We say “her”.’
‘Boats are like wives,’ said Moharram. They’re bloody awkward to handle when the wind gets up. I’ve got four wives. None of them any bloody use now.’
‘I want her tomorrow, I’m going over to look at the Ducks.’
‘Nothing to see there. Just sand.’
‘I’m fond of sand,’ said Hugo. ‘Let’s have a few of those stick sausages as well.’
He spent the morning in the office, half expecting a message from London but hearing nothing. He had no doubt that the ponderous machinery in Whitehall was grinding round, the attitude of the Afro-Asian block at UNO being predicted, the views of the opposition appreciated, the reactions in twenty different countries considered, if two companies of the Oman Scouts paid a courtesy visit to a neighbour in that remote corner of the Gulf.
At midday a messenger arrived from the Ruler. He had a note authorising the extension of the Beirut credit for a further fourteen days. Since he had signed it himself, Hugo gathered that Nawaf had not reappeared. He made the necessary arrangements to inform the Arab Bank in Beirut, and sent a cable to Colonel Rex at the Ambassador Hotel, giving him the good news.
After that he went home for lunch and took his afternoon siesta. He found himself slipping back easily into the routine which he had abandoned, as he thought forever, fifteen years before.
At five o’clock he had a shower and several cups of scalding sugarless tea. Then he strolled across to the next block and knocked on the door of Ringbolt’s flat.
He could hear voices inside, but it was a few moments before the door was opened. Closing down the wireless transmitter, thought Hugo. It was Bob himself, looking cool and neat in white shirt and shorts, with sandals on his bare feet.
He said, ‘Come along in, Hugo. We’ve got a compatriot of yours here.’
Charlie Wandyke was sharing a sofa with Tammy. He had a large glass of beer in his hand and looked happy. He said, ‘I hear you’ve been on the war path, Hugo.’ Tammy said, ‘The Tiger Goes to War,’ looked devoutly at him, and spoiled the effect by grinning. ‘I bet it was fun. Roaring along the road with your guns out. Storming the desert fortress. Beau Geste rides again.’
‘It wasn’t like that at all,’ said Hugo.
‘We’ve heard all sorts of stories. Is it true you volunteered to head the search of the harem?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Tell, tell. What did you do?’
‘Give the man a chance,’ said Ringbolt. ‘He hasn’t got a drink yet. What’ll it be?’
‘Beer please,’ said Hugo. ‘And I didn’t do anything, except keep one eye open for a place to duck into when the bullets started flying. Only they didn’t.’
‘No bullets?’
‘Not one. We went, we saw, we conquered. And we came back with the booty. One Sheik, discomposed but undamaged.’
‘It was a smart move that,’ said Ringbolt. ‘With their king in check, there aren’t a lot of gambits left to them. There’s some sort of cousin, I believe, but he’s no great shakes, by all accounts.’
‘According to my foreman,’ said Wandyke, ‘and I’ve never known him to be wrong about anything yet, Dr. Kassim hasn’t gone. He may not have been in the Palace, but he was hiding out somewhere. As long as he’s there, I shouldn’t count on a walkover. I’ve been hearing stories about that boy.’
‘You think he’s dangerous?’
‘I think he’s poison. Until I’ve seen his hide nailed up on the wall, I’m not taking any chances myself.’
‘What are you going to do, Charlie,’ said Ringbolt. ‘You can’t pack the mine up and take it away in your pocket.’
‘No. But I can immobilise the machinery and move everyone out. We had a practice evacuation yesterday. We did it in half an hour. And I bet you we’d halve that time if we had a crowd of wuzzies with knives up our backsides.’
‘You’ve got your boat, then,’ said Hugo. His beer suddenly seemed to have lost some of its flavour. He thought Charlie probably knew what he was talking about.
‘A thirty-foot diesel-engined dhow, with all modem conveniences.’
‘It sounds just the job,’ said Hugo. ‘And what arrangements are you making for getting your party out, Bob?’
This was something which could have been said in a lot of different ways. Hugo’s tone was fairly neutral, but it produced a moment of silence. Then Ringbolt said, ‘We shall be all right, Hugo. I guess you saw our wireless installation the other night. I’ve got Bernie on the set right now. He’s been talking to our fleet commander. He’ll send in a couple of helicopters if we want them.’
‘And if trouble starts, you’ll send for them?’
The silence this time was more marked. Then Ringbolt said equably, ‘All right, Hugo. I know what you’re thinking. I’m not making excuses. Right now, I’m acting under orders. Our State Department has got some pretty rigid ideas about a situation of this sort. There’s two ways of tackling it. You can stay put until the local inhabitants simply have to chop you. Then, when everyone’s steamed up about it, your real forces move in and knock hell out of the local opposition, and rely on everyone saying, “Serve the bastards right.” That’s what you did with your General Gordon in Khartoum, right?’
‘As far as I can remember, it took us about ten years to move in on the Mahdi. But that was roughly the principle, I agree.’
‘Things move faster nowadays. World opinion’s more mobilised. If we put the Marines ashore in Umran
without a mighty good excuse the doves would be raising hell in the United Nations within twenty-four hours. They might even suggest we were out to collar the Smitherite concession by force.’
‘They’d be wrong, of course,’ said Wandyke with a grin.
‘You said two ways,’ said Hugo.
‘That’s right. Well, the preferred way nowadays is what you might call the dustpan-and-brush method. You keep well clear until the local factions have finished cutting each other’s throats, and then you arrive and sweep up the mess. You pat the winner on the back and tell him you’ve been backing him all along and you’ve come in to help him restore the economy of his ravaged country. The Marines arrive, same as in method A, but this time they’re not aiming to fight anyone. They’re there to see no one loots the essential supplies you’re bringing in, or rapes the Red Cross nurses.’ ‘But the end result’s the same?’
‘Right. Only you get patted on the back for being humanitarian instead of being kicked in the crutch for a colonialist pig.’
‘Well, thanks for explaining it.’
‘I should have made it clear, Hugo, that there’s a seat in the helicopter for you.’
Hugo hesitated. It was not that he was in any doubt as to his answer. He wanted to phrase it without sounding pompous. In the end he said, ‘I’m not really a free agent in the matter, Bob. Under my contract with the Ruler I think I have to give him three months’ notice.’
He caught a fleeting glimpse of the smile on Tammy’s face and saw her lips frame, ‘Hold that Tiger’. He added, quickly, ‘Anyway, if the worst comes to the worst, I’ve got a boat too. It’s not a very big one. I was planning to take it over to the Ducks tomorrow. I take it Friday’s a holiday for you as well.’
‘That’s right,’ said Ringbolt. There was a faint look of puzzlement on his face.
‘I only asked, because I didn’t want to rob you of your secretary if it was a working day. Would you care to come along, Tammy?’
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