Mr. Calder & Mr. Behrens (22 page)

“I told them what you said. That a man had come in with a dog, and the dog had thought the major was threatening him, and had bitten him.”

“Did you mention my name?”

“I didn’t mention it, because I didn’t rightly know it. I heard that other man call you Corder, or something like that.”

“Right,” said Mr. Calder. “Now listen to me. This episode is finished. It’s over and done with. Practically, you might say it never happened. If the major wants to take it any further that’s up to him. My guess is he won’t.”

Here Mr. Calder underestimated Major Porter, but he was not to know this. Back in the village he found that his car was once again in working order. “Temporarily,” said the mechanic. “You’ll need a new pump soon, but it’ll do for the moment.” Mr. Calder thanked him, paid him and drove into Sonning. There was one more loose end to tidy up.

He found the young man, whose name was James Bird, half asleep in a chair in front of the fire in his lodgings. He said, “I got your address from that ape, Naylor. I want a few details from you. I gather that Major Porter is quite a lad. Owns a chain of betting shops, and at least three gaming clubs.”

“Four, actually. The largest, and the most profitable, is the one on that island.”

“And you know all about that because you’re his accountant.”

“One of his accountants. He uses several.”

“And you ran into a bit of trouble.”

“I was a fool. When the major invited me to come over and have a go I was rather flattered. Normally the only people who get invited to the island are his special – friends, and people with a lot of money. I thought I understood the odds. I’d worked out a system.”

“Oh, dear.”

“All right. You can’t kick me any harder than I’ve been kicking myself. I did make a bit of money – to start with.”

“Then you started losing. How much?”

“In the end, just over eight hundred pounds. Of course, I hadn’t got it. I gave them an IOU.”

“And this morning’s effort was Major Porter doing a bit of debt-collecting?”

“It wasn’t just the money. He knew that was safe enough. He’s only got to mention the matter to my firm, and I’d have got the sack on the spot. Anyway I’d made him an offer. Two hundred pounds, every three months, with interest at fifteen per cent. I could have managed that. Just.”

“And he wouldn’t accept it.”

“It wasn’t the money he was after. He said he’d tear up the IOU and forget about the debit if I did what he wanted. I look after the accounts for some of his betting shops. I do the annual audit. Well – you can guess.”

“He wanted you to fiddle the books for him,” said Mr. Calder brutally. “And you said you wouldn’t, and he set Naylor onto you.”

“He told me what Naylor was going to do. He said Naylor would knock out two or three of my teeth and fracture my jaw. I guess he’d have enjoyed watching it. He’s that sort of man.”

“And if I hadn’t turned up, would you have said yes or no?”

Young Mr. Bird’s face was crimson. In the end he said, “I think I might have said yes.”

“Nasty either way,” said Mr. Calder. “Just as well, perhaps, you didn’t have to find out, wasn’t it?”

Mr. Fortescue pursed his lips and said, “I am astounded that Calder should have behaved in such a stupid way.”

“Yes,” said Mr. Behrens.

When Mr. Fortescue was astounded in that tone of voice there was little point in arguing with him.

“A recruit to the service would have known better than to embroil himself with something which was not his concern.”

The events at the Pike and Eels had been reported to him, as a matter of course, by Mr. Calder, though in a much abbreviated version; but Mr. Fortescue had had no difficulty in reading between the lines.

“Up to that point he had been doing some useful work. He had accumulated quite a comprehensive dossier on Martin and Selby Croft. They appear to be a pair of unscrupulous mercenary adventurers with a taste for violence and a flair for keeping out of trouble. Brigadier Rooke, who had had them as recruits in their para-corps days, writes”— Mr. Fortescue picked up one of the papers in front of him— “‘They had the making of first-class fighting men, but more trouble than they were worth. The best I can say about them is that they were attached to each other. On one occasion I know of, Martin saved Selby’s life at some risk of his own.’” Hmph. Major Sholto, who knew them in Rhodesia, says, ‘You’d need wheels on your shoes to catch up with that pair.’ What a curious expression. I wonder what he meant?”

Mr. Behrens, who knew that Mr. Fortescue understood exactly what Major Sholto meant, replied patiently. “He means that you’d have to move very fast to get ahead of them.”

“We’re ahead of them at this moment. They are docking at Tilbury tomorrow. The Egyptian authorities deported them by the slowest available ship. Which was thoughtful of them.”

“Do we know why they were deported?”

“It appears that they shot a taxi-driver.”

“Fatally.”

“Fortunately for them, a flesh wound only. It involved them in the payment of compensation. They are not short of money.”

“They sound quite a pair.”

“They were on the losing side, in Tanzania, but removed themselves to America in time to avoid any unpleasant consequences. They lasted there for eighteen months, and then were deported on suspicion of being associated with various criminal activities. After that they spent some time in the Caribbean, allegedly running a cocoa plantation. There was some trouble about a labour dispute, and the use of unnecessary violence, and they moved on to Tunisia, where they were associated with the oil industry, although in what capacity I am not clear. Finally they gravitated to Egypt.”

“It’s all a bit vague, isn’t it?” said Mr. Behrens. “Suspicion of association with criminals. Some trouble or other.”

“As I told you, they are experts at avoiding specific charges.”

“What are our instructions?”

“To keep an eye on them. To persuade them to behave whilst they are here. And to deport them as soon as they give us the least excuse to do so.”

“If they are British, how can we deport them?”

“At some time in their career they acquired Panamanian citizenship.”

“It sounds thin to me, but I suppose we could try. What is the immediate plan?”

“I want you to go to Tilbury and talk to them.”

“I see,” said Mr. Behrens.

“Normally it is the sort of assignment I should have entrusted to Calder, but in his present state of mind there’s no saying what he might do. If they made some remark which annoyed him, he’d probably set that dog of his onto them.”

“It sounds more like a job for the police.”

“They have committed no offence in this country, as yet.”

“Let’s hope that their first one won’t be an aggravated assault – on me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to make suitable arrangements.”

“It’s a funny thing, Mr. Berrings,” said Martin Croft, “how people get ideas about us. They seem to think we’re always roaring drunk and dripping with blood, or something like that. What they don’t realise is we’re just a pair of sober citizens. Isn’t that right, Selby?”

“That’s right.”

The three of them were sitting in a small back room in a dock-side pub at Tilbury which Mr. Behrens had hired for the occasion. He said, “You weren’t entirely sober that night in Cairo.”

“Ah, but we were provoked. Our moral sense was outraged.”

“That’s right.”

“I mean, it’s one thing for a taxi-driver to offer to sell you his sister. That’s fair enough. But when he offers to sell you his mother! Anyone might let fly if they had a proposition like that made to them. You might yourself, Mr. Berrings.”

“The situation is unlikely to arise. In any event, it’s your intentions for the future, not your past, that I’m here to talk about.”

Martin Croft looked at him thoughtfully. Fortyish, Mr. Behrens thought. Chunky. His wits about him. His younger brother was a malevolent lump. Both self-confident, with the confidence which came from coping successfully with various violent situations.

“You know,” said Martin, “when you invited us in here for a little talk I thought, hullo, he’s a copper. Then I thought, no. Can’t be. Too old. So perhaps he’s a reporter. Wants to buy our life stories. But I shall have to disappoint him.”

“Oh, why? You must have had very interesting lives.”

“The fact is, we’ve been paid too much, one way and another,
not
to publish them. It’s one of the things I’ve found out in life Mr.—”

“Behrens.”

“Mr. Berrings. Sometimes you get paid more for not doing things than for doing them. For instance, when Selby and me was in America there was this Senator – Hochstatter his name was – we was paid five thousand dollars each for not killing him. Which was funny, since we’d no idea of doing anything of the sort.”

“Was that why you were deported?”

Martin looked disconcerted for a moment. He said, “Oh, you knew about that, did you?”

Selby said, abruptly, “Just who are you, mister?”

“You got something there, Selby. He isn’t a copper, he isn’t a reporter. So who is he?”

Mr. Behrens said, “I’ve been sent down by certain people who have an interest in seeing you behave yourselves.”

“No-one’s got the right to put a finger on us. We’re clean. Who are these people behind you? What do they want?”

“My instructions come from the Home Office, who are officially concerned with you because you’ve been the subject of at least one deportation order.”

Selby lumbered to his feet. He said, “I’ve had enough of this bloody monkey-talk.”

Martin Croft said, “Lay off, Selby. I want to get to the bottom of this. Why should anyone suppose we’re
not
going to behave? Perhaps you can tell me that?”

Mr. Behrens took a deep breath. He said, “Your record speaks for itself. You’ve spent the last twenty years of your life peddling violence – in places where violence was appreciated. The message I’m trying to get through to you is this. There’s no market for it here.”

Martin Croft said, slowly, “I think you’ve got a nerve, coming down here, lecturing us, like we was a couple of naughty kids. What’d you do if I threw you through that window?”

“Is that a threat?”

“Take it any way you like. We’ve done more than that to people who’ve annoyed us. Remember that American reporter in Cuba, Selby? We took him by an ankle each and swung him against a tree. They were hours and hours picking his teeth out of the trunk.”

Mr. Behrens said, in his gentlest voice, “I quite understand. And now you are threatening me with the same sort of violence.”

“I wonder,” said Martin equally softly, “what happens if we say yes?” He seemed to be listening. “Got men outside? Come rushing in? Search me and Selby? They won’t find a thing.”

“It’s true you’re not carrying guns at this moment,” said Mr. Behrens. “But you both own them. Yours, Martin, is a P.38, number RN9688. Selby’s is a Mauser. I can’t tell you the number, because it’s been filed off. The steward who carried them ashore for you has been arrested and charged. Whether he implicates you depends on how much he loves you – or how much you’ve paid him.”

Silence descended again. The brothers seemed to sense, for the first time, something menacing in the spare, grizzled scholarly man in front of them.

At last Martin said, “Let him say what he likes, you’ve still got nothing you can pin on us.” Selby growled his agreement.

“A little matter of threatening me with violence, wasn’t there?”

“Two to one. Who’s going to believe you?”

“If it comes to the point,” said Mr. Behrens, “I expect they’ll believe the tape recorder.”

“Are you telling me you’ve got this place bugged?”

“Naturally. Why do you think I brought you in here?”

Martin got slowly to his feet. He looked at his brother. He said, “We’ve got work to do, Selby. We’re going to take this bloody room to pieces and find that bloody recorder, and break it on this character’s head.”

“Waste of time,” said Mr. Behrens. “Everything’s gone straight through on the wire to London. It’s probably been typed out in triplicate by now.”

“You did that very nicely,” said Mr. Fortescue. “I did wonder, for a moment, whether they would take a chance on it, and assault you. In a way that would have suited us very well.”

“I was fairly sure they wouldn’t,” said Mr. Behrens. “They’re not young tearabouts. They’re middle-aged professionals. Even if they’d thought I was bluffing, they wouldn’t have taken a chance on it. Incidentally, that steward wouldn’t give them away. It wasn’t just money. He was afraid of them.”

“Thoroughly undesirable customers,” said Mr. Fortescue. He sounded as though he was refusing them an overdraft at his bank.

“What do you plan to do next?”Calder has an idea about that.”

“I did think,” said Mr. Calder, “that it’d be a good idea if we put them somewhere where they’d have plenty of opportunities to get involved in trouble. Suppose we let them have a tip-off that Major Porter was looking for new talent. He sacked a rather ineffective muscle man called Naylor last week, so he’s got at least one vacancy on his staff.”

Mr. Fortescue thought about it. He said, “If it can be done discreetly, it might work well. We would, at least, know where they were. But I don’t want any unnecessary violence.”

Mr. Calder promised, meekly, that there would be no unnecessary violence. He knew that the episode of the Pike and Eels was neither forgotten nor forgiven.

Managing matters with discretion took time. Time to get the information, at fourth hand, to the Crofts. Time for them to vet the major and the major to vet them. It was on a fine morning in early May that they turned up at the Island Club to be given their instructions by Leo Harris, the major’s chief of staff.

“In the ordinary way,” he said, “it isn’t a hard job. Most of the work’s at night, when the tables are going. Perhaps someone loses money and gets a little bit upset about it. Or perhaps they’ve had too much to drink. Then you have to cool them off.”

“Bounce them,” said Martin. “That shouldn’t be too difficult. What’s amusing you, Selby?”