Floodgate (26 page)

'Nothing illegal about recruiting those two men, Mr Wieringa. They're police sergeants. And they weren't recruited - they volunteered. They know the dangers. There's nothing to be done about the explosives, sir, but if you could have an amourer deactivate the missiles I'd be very grateful.'
De Graaf lowered his glass. 'So would I. So would L' Not much in the way of life had come back into his voice.
Wieringa said: 'I suppose I'm just being idly curious again but why are you and your two friends taking these appalling risks?' 'Calculated risks, sir. I hope. The reason is simple. The Colonel has said that we have gained an entree into the FFF. That's not quite accurate. We have been accepted - or appear to have been accepted - on the fringes. We're just on the outer strand of the spider's web. We don't know where the spider is. But if we deliver the requested items, we'll find out. They're not likely to leave missiles and missile launchers in a safe deposit box in the Central Station.'
'Impeccable logic, van Effen, impeccable logic. Except, of course, for one tiny little flaw.'
'Sir?'
'The spider may gobble you up. The scheme is mad, quite mad - which is the only reason it might just succeed. I'd be intrigued to know where and when you arranged this.'
'About an hour and a half ago. Over a drink with Agnelli.' For the first time, Wicringa's monolithic calm cracked. 'Over a drink with Agnelli? Agnelli? Agnelli! One of those men who have just left?'
'I was Stephan Danilov then. Well, can't think of anything else so, with your permission, I'll be on my way. The weather forecast should be interesting tonight - latest reports say flood level danger inside the next forty-eight hours might even exceed that of February 1953. That will be the time for our friends -and it doesn't leave a great deal of time for negotiations with the British Government. You will remember that I said I didn't believe in Riordan's short-range threats: I'm convinced that the long-range threat, the massive flooding of the country, has been arranged and is totally real. One small point, Colonel. Riordan's allegations against the integrity of our customs. They're ludicrous. I know that. You know that. The world doesn't. I'm convinced that the transfers are taking place in the lisselmeer, Waddenzee or the open see. It's a Navy job. God knows we've got a bad enough name already as a gun-running entrepot: I wonder what it will be like when all this is over.' Van Effen smiled. 'Still, it's not a job that can be handled by a junior police officer: only the ministries of Defence and Justice can cope. Good-night, gentlemen.' 'Moment, Peter, moment.' It was de Graaf and his distress was apparent. 'Surely there's something we can do to help?'
'Yes, sir. There is. Do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Any attempt to help us will probably help us into our graves. Those are clever and desperate men so please, please, don't try anything clever and desperate yourselves. Don't have the truck followed, not in any way, no matter how clever you think you are, nothing. No helicopters, no blind barrel-organist, nothing. And nothing so futile and puerile as fitting a concealed location transmitter bug to the truck - unless they're mentally retarded, it's the first thing they'd look for. Nothing. Do nothing.' 'We take your point,' Wieringa said drily. 'Nothing.' His tone changed. 'But from what you've just said, Lloyd's of London wouldn't insure you for a ninety-nine per cent premium. But you go. For the last time - why?'
'You heard what. Mr Dessens said - the good name and honour of the Netherlands in the dust, and you with its citizens full fathom five. We can't have that, can we?'
'Your sister?'
'What about my sister?'
The Colonel told me tonight. God only knows how you carry on as you do. I couldn't. Kidnapped.'
:She's part of it.'
I would not care to be the unfortunate man who abducted her when you meet up with him.'
'I've already met up with this unfortunate man.'
'What? For the second time Wieringa's self-control deserted him, but he recovered quickly. 'When?'
'Tonight.'
"Where?'
Here. Agnelli.'
'Agnelli!'
'I should have shot him full of holes? There's a law against it. I'm a policeman. I'm supposed to uphold the law. Sworn to it, in fact.' He left. Wieringa said: 'I begin to believe some of the stories about van Effen. The not-so-nice ones. God, Arthur, that's his sister. No blood in his veins. None. Ice.'
Yes, sir. Let's hope Agnelli has not hurt Julie.'
What do you mean?'
'Then he's a dead man. Sure, sure, van Effen's sworn to uphold the law - but only in front of witnesses.'
Wieringa stared at him, then nodded slowly and reached for his glass.
Eight
At noon on that February day the streets of Amsterdam were dark as dusk. At noon on that same day the streets were as deserted as those of any long-dead city. The cloud cover driven by that icy northern wind must have been black and heavy and thousands of feet in depth but it could not be seen: the torrential slanting rain that bounced knee-high off those same deserted streets limited visibility in any direction, including vertically, to only a few yards. It was not a noontide for the well-advised to venture out of doors.
Van Effen, George and Vasco were among the very few who seemed to be singularly ill-advised. They stood in the porch way of the Trianon hotel, sheltering from the monsoon-like rain behind the side glass panels. Van Effen was subjecting Vasco to a critical examination. 'Not bad, Vasco, not at all bad. Even if I hadn't known it was you, I don't think I would have recognized you. I'm quite certain I would have brushed by you in the street and not given you a second look. But don't forget that Romero Agnelli had the opportunity of studying you very closely over the table at the Hunter's Horn. On the other hand, the clothes you wore on that occasion were so outlandish that he probably didn't spend much time examining your face. It will serve.'
Vasco had indeed undergone a considerable metamorphosis. The long blond locks that had straggled haphazardly over his shoulder had been nearly, even severely, trimmed and parted with millimetric precision just to the centre left. His hair was also black, as were his eyebrows and newly-acquired and immaculately shaped moustache, all of which went very well with his shadowed, thinned-down cheeks and heavy tan. All dyes were guaranteed waterproof. He was the maiden's conceptualized dream of what every young army officer should look like. Shirt, tie, suit and belted trench-coat were correspondingly immaculate. 'They could use him in those army advertisements,' George said. 'You know, your country needs you.' George, himself, was still George. For him, disguise was impossible.
'And the voice,' van Effen said. 'I'm not worried about Agnelli, he's hardly heard you say more than a few words. It's Annemarie. I don't know whether she's a good actress with her emotions under control or not, but I rather suspect not. It would rather spoil things if she flung her arms round your neck and cried "My saviour!"'
'I have a very bad cold,' Vasco said hoarsely. 'My throat is like sandpaper.' His voice reverted to normal and he said morosely: 'Whose throat wouldn't be in this damned weather. Anyway, I'll be the strong, silent type: I shall speak as little as possible.' 'And 1,'George said,'shall lurk discreetly in the background until one of you have advised the ladies - if the ladies arc indeed there - of my presence. But make it fast.'
'We'll make it as fast as we can, George,' van Effen said. 'We appreciate it's a bit difficult for you to lurk discreetly anywhere for any length of time. And I have no doubt whatsoever the ladies will be there.' He tapped the newspaper under his arm. 'What's the point, in holding a couple of trumps if you don't have them in your hand?'
The FFF's latest announcement had been very simple, direct and to the point. They had now with them, they said - crude words like 'abducted' and 'kidnapped' had been studiously avoided - two young ladies, one of them the daughter of the nation's leading industrialist, the other the sister of a senior police officer in Amsterdam. They had then proceeded to name names. Condolences, the FFF had said, had been sent to both parents and brother, together with assurances that they were being well cared for and expressing the pious hope that they would continue to remain in good health. 'I do look forward to meeting those card players,' George, said wistfully. 'Crafty bunch of devils, aren't they? I wonder what American university - or it could be Irish - offers a combined course in terrorism and psychology?'
'They're not exactly mentally retarded,'van Effen said. 'But, then, we never thought they were. Another push up the back for the arm of the government - and another push into an even more impossible situation. just ending their message with those prayerful good wishes. No threats, no hints of reprisals or what might happen to the girls, no possibility of torture or even death. Nothing. The old uncertainty principle in full operation again. What, we are left to wonder, do they have in mind. That's left to us - and, of course, it's only human nature to come up with the worst possible scenario. Bad enough to have the country threatened with inundation, but for the tender-hearted and romantic - and even among the so-called stolid Dutch there are an uncommon number of those around - the thought of what dreadful terrors may lie in store for two beautiful and innocent young damsels could be a great deal worse.' 'Well, there's one consolation,'Vasco said. He was practising his in extremis voice again. 'I'm sure that's the last threat about your sister's well-being that you'll be getting, Lieutenant.' 'Stephan,' van Effen said.
'Stephan. I know. But I won't apologize this time.' Vasco's voice was back to normal. 'Once I clap eyes on that lot there's not the slightest chance I'll forget.'
'My mistake,'van Effen said. 'I'm the person who's doing the forgetting - about your undercover years. I agree with you -there'll be no more threats to Julie. By the same token, I don't even think they'll bother to try to extract any money from David Meijer. Apart from the fact that they appear to have unlimited funds of their own, David Meijer is much more important to them as David Meijer - the man who, however unofficially, has very much the ear of the government and is in a position to influence them, to swing whatever decision may be under consideration. Not that I think that the government has any decision under consideration. I think that matter has been effectively taken out of their hands now. The ball, in the American phrase, is now very much in the court of the British.'
'I wouldn't very much like to be in the position of the British either.' George said. 'They face a position that, if it's possible, is even worse than the one our government had to face. Are they going to be dictated to, even by proxy, by a bunch of what are essentially no more than terrorists, no matter what lofty motives they may ascribe to themselves? What will happen in Northern Ireland if they did pull out - would there be strife, and murder, even massacre that might cost more than any lives that could or would be lost in the Netherlands - and, of course, we can have no idea of how many lives that might be - hundreds or hundreds of thousands. Or do they just dig in, refuse to move and sit back and let the Hollanders drown and make themselves the lepers of the world, ostracised, perhaps for generations to come, by all nations - and although this is a wicked old world there must be still quite a few left - who still subscribe to some ideals of decency and humanity?'
'I do wish you'd shut up, George.' Rarely for him, van Effen sounded almost irritable. 'You put the damn thing all too clearly. In a nutshell, it's a toss-up between what value is put on the lives of x number of citizens in Ulster against number of citizens in the Netherlands.' Van. Effen smiled without much mirth. 'It's difficult to solve an equation when you don't even have a clue as to what the factors are. Imponderables, imponderables. The physicists who ramble on about the indeterminates and uncertainties in quantum mechanics should have this one dumped on their laps. Me, I'd rather spin a coin.'
'Heads or tails,' George said. 'What way do you think the coin would land?' 11 have absolutely no idea because, of course, no one eve" knows which face 01 the coin is going to show. But there's one factor that is at 'Least faintly determinate, even although that is wildly uncertain, and that is human nature. So at a wild guess, just as wild as guessing at the toss, I would say that the British would give in.'
George was silent for a few moments, one massive hand caressing his chin, then said: 'The British haven't got much of a reputation for giving in. Feed any of them enough beer or scotch or whatever and like as not someone will end up by telling you that no unspeakable foreigner has ever set foot on their sacred soil for a thousand years. Which is true - and it's the only country in the world that can claim that.'
'True, true. But not applicable - or at least of importance -here. This is not a case of Churchill declaiming that we will fight in the streets, hills, beaches or wherever and that we will never surrender. That's for martial warfare and in martial warfare the parameters and issues are clear-cut. This is psychological warfare where the distinctions are blurred out of sight. Are the British any good at psychological warfare? I'm not sure they are. Come to that, I'm not sure that any country is - too many indefinables.'
'I don't think, anyway, that it's a factor of either martial or psychological warfare. If there's any factor that's going to count, it's the factor of human nature. This is how it might just possibly happen. The British will bluff and bluster, rant and rave - you have to admit that they yield first place to none when it comes to that - throw their arms in the general direction of a mindless heaven, appeal for common justice and claim they're as pure and white and innocent as the driven snow, which, at this moment of time and conveniently forgetting their not-so distant bloody history, they have some justification in claiming to be. What, they will ask, have we done to precipitate this intolerable situation and why should they, luckless lambs being led to the slaughter etc, be forced to find an impossible solution to an impossible problem which is none of their making? All quite true, of course. Why, they will cry, is no one in the world lifting a finger to help us, specifically those idle, spineless, cowardly, incompetent etc, Dutch who can't bear to separate themselves from their cheese and tulips and gin even for the few moments it would take to eradicate this monster in their midst.