Tammy said, without the least hesitation, ‘I most certainly would.’ And added, ‘Grrr, grrr, grrr-rh!’
Chapter Seventeen
Beirut: Wednesday and Thursday
Wednesday in Beirut brought up one of the sudden storms which sweeps in from the eastern end of the Mediterranean, smashes against the mountains, and disappears into the desert, leaving behind it a litter of torn sun-blinds, shredded travel posters, and a general feeling of freshness and well-being.
Colonel Rex spent the morning in his room at the Hotel Ambassador with Mr. Sharif, working through packing arrangements. He said, ‘It’s absolute nonsense to think of flying in the trucks, or the crated helicopters. With the small freight planes we’re using, you’d need one plane for each truck. If we were able to charter one of the American maxi-transporters we could get several trucks on each. But they couldn’t land on the runway at Mohara.’
Sharif nodded. He had come to the same conclusion. He said, ‘The trucks will have to go by sea. Your client will not object. What he needs now are guns, not trucks.’
‘Right. So we put all the small arms, automatic weapons, mortars and ammunition and perhaps one pack-howitzer on the first plane. The rest of the howitzers and the signalling and engineers’ stores on the second. The four remaining planes can take the light a-a, the anti-tank guns and anything else which is left. When will the first plane leave ?’
‘Tonight.’
‘How is Hafiz fixing it?’
‘The loading will be done in a spare bay at the far end of the terminal buildings. It is the old pilgrim compound. The stuff will be taken from the transit warehouse, by trucks, as soon as it is dusk. It will cost a great deal of money to organise, but he has a reliable foreman whose gang will do what they are told. They are all of them his sons and cousins.’
‘And the warehouse will release the cargo?’
‘Naturally. They will have an official order to do so. Hafiz has studied the regulations of the Israeli boycott. There is nothing to prevent goods being transported onwards as long as they remain in a state which itself subscribes to the boycott arrangements.’
‘Which Bahrain does?’
‘Most certainly.’
‘And when they are there?’
‘Equally, there will be no reason why they should not be sent forward to Umran. Umran is also a party to the boycott.’
‘Something tells me that the second leg will need a certain amount of fixing.’
‘I understand that a high official from Umran is already in Bahrain to expedite matters.’
‘Good,’ said the Colonel. He had, in the course of a long life, arranged for the transport of many different cargoes by many different routes. By road, by rail, by air, and by sea. By pack-mule, by camel, by barge and by canoe. Even, on one occasion, by aerial ropeway to the top of a mountain and down the other side by sledge. He had invariably found that the lubricant which eased the wheels around was money; money disbursed to the right person, in the right amounts at the right time. It seemed to be working here. Hafiz clearly knew his job and was earning the very large sum which he had paid him. And which he, in turn, had borrowed, at such risk from the Jannis.
He was reminded of his obligations by a telephone call which arrived whilst he was eating his lunch. It summoned him to a meeting that afternoon at the office of the Jannis’ lawyer. The Colonel protested, but was overruled so sharply that he said no more. He finished his meal and, unusually, ordered a large brandy. The drink did something to dispel a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. His instincts, which hardly ever deceived him, told him that he was running into trouble.
When he arrived there were two men in the lawyer’s office. Janni, and an older, thicker swarthier version of Janni which he took to be his brother. The lawyer was not in evidence.
The younger Janni said, ‘We hear that you have concluded arrangements to despatch a first plane-load of rifles and automatic weapons to Bahrain this evening.’
‘And mortars,’ said the brother.
‘Is this true?’
‘Perfectly true.’
‘Then your security has been very bad.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If we have heard about it, do you suppose that half Beirut does not know about it too. That the Minister will not soon know?’
‘I hope that his intelligence service will be less well-informed than yours.’
‘It may be so. It may not. It brings me to what I had to say. Your letter of credit with the Arab Bank is encashable in series? That is right? It would be the usual arrangement.’
‘It is encashable in multiples of £500 against bills of lading and invoices of that amount.’
‘As I supposed. When you produce the airway bills (Covering the first plane-load, the bank will release to you – how much?’
The Colonel affected to make a calculation. In fact, he knew the answer. He had worked it out that morning. His hesitation was to cover a more difficult computation. How accurately would the Jannis be able to compute the value of an individual consignment of weapons? He dared not pitch it too low. They were already suspicious. On the other hand, if he named the real figure he knew exactly what to expect.
He said, ‘If the cargo is loaded in accordance with our provisional schedule—’
‘Is there some doubt about it?’
‘We are very close to the safety weight-limit. It might be necessary to leave some of the mortar ammunition behind.’
‘A pity,’ said the elder brother. He seemed to have a fixation about mortars.
‘On the basis of the full scheduled load, I would hope to encash £50,000.’
The younger Janni looked at some papers on the desk in front of him and said, ‘By my calculation it should be nearer £70,000.’
‘Does it matter?’ said the Colonel smoothly. ‘When I go to the bank we shall be able to calculate exactly what the figure is. If the cargo we despatch tonight is a little less valuable, we shall make it up on subsequent deliveries.’
‘I am not interested in subsequent deliveries. I intend that my ten per cent share of the total profit shall be paid to me from the proceeds of the first despatch.’
There was a moment of silence. Then the Colonel said mildly, ‘I don’t think I can agree to that, you know. We are in this business on a partnership basis. We divide the profit in the agreed proportions, as it becomes available.’
‘I can see that you do not understand the situation. You are engaged in the purchase and sale of arms. You have the necessary licences, of course. It is a legitimate business enterprise. Nevertheless, I can assure you, that if I were to speak a word in the right quarter, none of those arms, no single gun, no single round of ammunition, would leave the airport warehouses tonight, or any other night for some time to come.’
‘But would that be a sensible thing to do? We would both be losers. I would lose my share of the profits. You would lose yours, and your loan would be in jeopardy.’
The younger Janni smiled. He said, ‘You have not thought this thing through, Colonel. Were such a contingency to arise, and I hope it will not, the entire consignment would, after a suitable interval, be offered at auction. I should buy it. Naturally, since it will be a forced sale, it will be at a depreciated price. And there is a ready market for armaments in this part of the world. Certain items in particular.’
His brother appeared to shape, with his mouth, the word ‘mortars’.
Colonel Rex took a taxi back to the hotel. The storm was already passing. The gusts of wind were capricious rather than fierce. The Colonel tipped the driver extravagantly, and ran up the steps of the hotel ignoring the umbrella which the porter held out.
Since he was fairly certain that he would now be watched, he made a point of behaving as naturally as possible. He visited the barber’s shop in the hotel and had a hair-cut, shampoo and scalp-massage. He would have liked a facial massage as well, but there was a weakness in his jaw-bone which made such a procedure dangerous
except in the most expert hands. Then he went back to his room, removed most of his clothes, turned up the air-conditioning, lay down on his bed and made a conscious effort to relax. The realisation had been creeping up on him for some time that he was getting too old for his chosen profession. He knew more than one man who had failed to get out at the right time, had stayed until he was mentally as well as financially hooked, had finished, if he was lucky enough to survive, in a back street pension, a garrulous cadging wreck. This was the moment of decision. All that he had to do was to get his hands on the money due on the first consignment. The Jannis had been very close in their estimate. It was £68,500. He had a furnished villa outside Cairo, taken in another name. Only a few people in the Egyptian Ministry of Defence knew his real name and calling. He had performed useful services for them in the past and they would certainly secure him the necessary documents and permits to enable him to stay permanently. The little lady who looked after the villa for him was an agreeable if unexciting bed companion. Perhaps he would marry her and settle down.
So thinking, he drifted into sleep. It was nearly eight o’clock when he woke. The evening, as so often after a day of storm, was quite perfect. The air was fresh and all the stars were out. He dressed carefully, and took a taxi to the Casino, where he dined. After dinner he watched the first of the two nightly shows and got back to the hotel just before midnight. The desk clerk handed him an envelope.
The Colonel collected his keys and walked up to his room. There he turned on the bedside light and examined the envelope. It had been clumsily opened and resealed. The note said, ‘Number one safely away.’ It was unsigned.
The Colonel stuffed the note and envelope into his pocket, turned out the lights, let himself out into the passage and re-locked the room door from the outside. The kitchen quarters were quiet and deserted. The Colonel unlocked the back door using his own key. He had borrowed this key from the manager when he had confirmed the booking of his room. The manager had not appeared to find anything strange in the request. Twenty years of looking after an hotel in Beirut had hardened him to human vagaries. There had been the Sheik who had kept one of his wives in a cabin trunk and another who kept a crocodile in his bath. Compared with these, a guest who paid for an expensive suite and appeared unwilling to sleep in it was a minor mystery.
The Colonel took a careful look up and down the alley-way and then crossed it, walking briskly, and plunged into the complex of tiny streets beyond it. Every now and then he stopped. The complete silence assured him that he was not being followed. In ten minutes he was at his lodging, and in another ten, was in bed. Fara was both sympathetic and intelligent. She saw that he had had a trying day. She therefore refrained from speech and comforted him with her body.
The Colonel woke early. By half-past six he was up and dressed. There was much to do. Whilst Fara made him a cup of coffee, he used the telephone. A sleepy Mr. Sharif answered him. From a muttered feminine protest which came to him over the wire he guessed that he had caught him in bed. He said, ‘Wake up, and listen to me. This is important. You’d better write it down.’
‘Wait a moment.’ There followed the sound of a slap on bare flesh, a squeal, and Mr. Sharif said, ‘O.K. Colonel.’
‘You have the airway bills, certified by the captain of the aeroplane?’
‘Yes.’
‘And the invoices?’
‘Right here.’
‘Have you confirmed the total?’
‘In sterling, sixty-seven thousand, one hundred and fifty pounds. In Lebanese currency—’
‘Never mind about Lebanese currency. Why are we more than a thousand short?’
‘Some of the mortars and mortar ammunition had to be left behind to make room for the pack-howitzer.’
The Colonel said, ‘I see.’ It occurred to him that Sharif might have done a private deal with the pilot of the aircraft and arranged to split the difference with him. The idea did not displease him. If people cheated in small matters, it made them easier to deal with in big ones. He said, ‘Now listen. Take all the documents to the Arab Bank. If you telephone the Manager and explain your business you will be allowed into the bank before it opens for public business at ten o’clock. There is a side door for private customers and staff. They will admit you at nine o’clock. Ask for the money to be ready in dollar notes. Specify the larger denominations. Five hundred and thousand, dollar bills will be best. You can pack such an amount easily into a brief-case. When you leave the bank, also by the side door, turn to the left. This will bring you out into Mustaq Road. Immediately opposite the back of the bank there is a large café.’
‘I know it.’
‘Good. I will meet you there at half-past nine. There is a room at the back where we shall be able to do business in private.’
The Colonel’s next call was to the air-terminal. He found that there were two scheduled flights daily for Cairo. There was an M.E.A. Viscount which left at ten forty-five in the morning; a Lufthansa V.C.1o at seven o’clock in the evening. The booking clerk confirmed that neither plane was likely to be full. If he was at the airport thirty minutes before departure time, he could guarantee him a seat.
The Colonel was back in his room at the hotel by half-past seven, telephoning room service for his breakfast. The boy who brought it up found him shaving.
At nine o’clock he left the hotel on foot and walked slowly down the street. He had no difficulty in spotting the young man in the blue serge suit who detached himself from the shop door opposite and started to stroll after him.
The Colonel smiled to himself. What had to be done next demanded finesse, since to be effective it had to appear to be accidental. He had to wait for nearly a quarter of an hour before circumstances were propitious. The street ahead was reasonably empty, and a single taxi was coming up behind him. The Colonel allowed the taxi to draw level with him, then stopped it with a wave of his arm, jumped in and said. To the station, and make it fast.’ The taxi-driver needed no second bidding. Making things fast was one of the minor pleasures of his life. He was going at fifty kilometres an hour before he was out of third gear. The Colonel risked a quick glance back. The youth in the blue suit was looking wildly about him for a second taxi, but having no luck.
At the station the Colonel paid off the taxi, walked in at one end of the booking hall, and out at the other. He was waiting in the back room of the café when Sharif arrived. The time, he noted, was twenty minutes to ten. From the smile on Sharif’s face he gathered that all had gone well.
‘No trouble at all.’ He opened the smart black brief-case and started to unpack the neat bundles of dollar notes.
‘My dear fellow,’ said the Colonel, ‘leave them where they are.’ He detached five thousand-dollar-notes and handed them to Sharif. The labourer is worthy of his hire.’ He took out a further note, this time of five hundred dollars, and said, ‘I will buy the brief-case from you as well. Right?’
That is very generous,’ said Sharif. ‘You will be glad to know that I have already spoken to our friend Hafiz. The despatch last night went so smoothly that he has every confidence that tonight’s should go equally well.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ said the Colonel. His mind was working with the exceptional speed and clarity with which it performed in moments of crisis. He had found that danger, deliberately courted, pumped adrenalin into his mental as well as his physical processes.
It had been his plan to leave that evening with the proceeds of the previous night’s despatch. Dare he now try to double his money? The first operation had gone so smoothly that the temptation was over-powering. He calculated times, distances and probabilities, and arrived at an answer so quickly that there was scarcely a break in the conversation. He said, ‘Then let us follow the same programme tomorrow.’ Glancing at his watch, he added, ‘Exactly the same programme.’ The time was five to ten. A taxi would get him to the airport in twenty minutes. There were risks, certainly. But for an additional seventy thousand pounds risks were acc
eptable.
When he left the café he made his way back, on foot, to his lodging. Fara was out, and the flat was empty. After some thought he put the brief-case on a high shelf in the kitchen and positioned three saucepans in front of it. He had often found that simple hiding places were the best. Then he walked back to the hotel, entered it openly, and stationed himself in the lounge with a café filtre and a copy of Free Lebanon, one of the racier Beirut newspapers.
The telephone call which he was expecting came at shortly after eleven o’clock. It was young Janni and his voice was harsh with suspicion. He said, ‘Have you seen the bank yet?’
‘No,’ said the Colonel, equally sharply. ‘Why should I?’
There was a pause at the other end. The counter-attack was unexpected.
‘We had imagined that you would have presented the airway bills covering the first despatch, which we understood went off to time—’
‘Certainly.’
‘And receive the appropriate money.’
‘I’m afraid you know very little of how these matters are arranged,’ said the Colonel. He was still speaking without any hint of apology. ‘The airway bill has to be certified by the airline office which, incidentally, does not start work until half-past ten. I have arranged to collect them at four o’clock this afternoon, when they will be handed to me personally and to no one else. I have also arranged to attend at the Arab Bank and encash them, at half-past ten tomorrow. If you wish to be present, I shall have no objection.’
There was a long pause. The Colonel imagined that young Janni must be consulting his brother. He himself was relying on the fact that neither of them would have had much practical experience of the air-freighting of goods. In the end young Janni said, mildly, ‘Very well, Colonel Delmaison. We will meet at the bank at half-past ten tomorrow.’ There was a pause, then he added, ‘Might I give you some advice ? If I were you, I should not go very far from your hotel today.’
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