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Authors: John Creasey

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Chapter Twenty-One
The Meeting

 

Lozana joined Dias, and another man sat in the third chair, a stranger to Palfrey, a man with heavy features and who, Palfrey was sure, was Dutch. Several men followed Palfrey, including Bane, who stalked past him and took a seat near the front. His head with its wavy hair was clearly visible behind that of a man who was completely bald.

The seats were nearly all filled; Palfrey counted thirty people.

‘Is that all?' called Dias, from the platform, and to Palfrey's astonishment, he spoke in English.

‘There are no others,' called a steward from the back of the room. ‘That is all, sir.' He had a strong Dutch accent.

‘Excellent!' cried Dias. ‘Close and lock the door, please!' There was a hushed silence, until the sound of bolts being shot broke it. Most of the people took no notice, but several of them, including Gleber, looked over their shoulders uneasily, as if they were a little alarmed by the fact that they were locked in.

‘Now, gentlemen,' said Dias. ‘I would like—'

Gleber leaned towards Palfrey. ‘Good! No women.'

‘Good,' echoed Palfrey, cursing the man, for he had missed Dias's opening sentence.

‘All of us know the purpose of this meeting,' said Dias. ‘It is my great pleasure, gentlemen, my very great pleasure, to be here to meet you, some of you for the first time. I have always been delighted, delighted indeed, to be able to assist you in the way that I am doing. Now, gentlemen, there is one thing which I must say at the beginning. We—'

Gleber nudged Palfrey. ‘Talk,' he whispered, ‘nothing but talk. Who wants to listen to that fat bullock?'

Palfrey gulped. ‘
I
do,' he said.

Gleber started to guffaw, and then stifled the roar. Dias glared at him, several people ‘hushed' him, but he sat there grinning, in no way embarrassed. Palfrey was. They were looking at Gleber, but they could not avoid seeing him; Dias might see something familiar in his face. He felt as if he had on no disguise, for a moment he was afraid that Dias would point an accusing finger. He was half prepared to get up, and he thought of the locked and bolted door.

‘I do, then, impress upon all of you, gentlemen, the great importance, the greatest importance, of the utmost discretion,' said Dias. ‘You cannot, of course, work
entirely
on your own, you must have help, but let it be understood that the
source
of your supplies is never whispered, never breathed, to anyone in your townships. Have I your agreement, gentlemen?'

There was a murmur of assent.

‘The old fool,' said Gleber, ‘what does he think we are? Children? Or old women?'

‘We know what there is for disposal tonight,' said Dias, ‘you have had full particulars. We will, please, maintain the pretences, we will pretend that we do not know what the
real
commodities are—the real goods, yes. So we will take them in numbers. Number 1 on the list, we have a limited supply, so I will take tenders—my good friend Juan will take tenders. Please.' He looked about him inquiringly, hopefully. Lozana sat with a pencil poised.

A man from the body of the meeting said:

‘Five hundred.'

‘A box,' said Dias.

‘A box.' The man spoke good English.

‘There, then, we have an excellent beginning,' said Dias. ‘Five hundred a box. It is a fair price.'

‘Six,' said a man from the far end of the room.

‘Six,' said Dias, ‘you see, we are fair, we are extremely fair, we are reasonable. Six hundred a box.'

‘Seven!' roared Gleber.

Dias beamed at him. ‘Seven, gentlemen, seven hundred a box! It is clearly understood that the highest bidder has the first choice, the first choice always; there will be an arrangement with the others for any surplus supplies. Seven hundred a box.' He paused, his hands raised, all he needed to make him the complete auctioneer was a hammer. ‘Excellent! Seven hundred—your name, sir, please.'

‘Gleber,' roared Gleber – ‘Karl Gleber, Aachen.'

‘Thank you, Herr Gleber.' The horse laugh was obviously forgiven. Dias beamed at Gleber. ‘At seven hundred pounds there are fifty boxes for disposal; place your orders.'

Gleber took twelve boxes; others ordered some, the last man getting two that remained, but – boxes of what? Palfrey badly wanted to know. One possible explanation of this fantastic auction – for it
was
an auction – was obvious: Black Market. Lozana was writing swiftly on a sheet of paper. The men who placed the ‘orders' all gave their names and the town from which they came. Three came from Rotterdam, two from Antwerp, two from Paris; no other place was mentioned more than once.

Palfrey saw that the men were studying slips of paper. Gleber was not; he was sitting back, fully satisfied, grinning broadly. He nudged Palfrey.

‘No memories, no memories—a man wants a memory. I see
you
don't need to refer to paper.'

‘Oh no,' said Palfrey.

He leaned forward. There was a short man in front of him, studying his list. Palfrey pretended to have trouble with one of his shoes, kept leaning forward and managed to catch a glimpse of the paper. It was in English, printed in block letters and headed:
For Disposal.
Immediately beneath it was: 1:
Nails.
2.
Small saucepans.
3.
Large saucepans.

The man in front of him made a mark against an item lower on the list, and then folded up his paper.

‘Nails, small saucepans, large saucepans—nonsense!' thought Palfrey. The words stood for something else, of course, there was a code.

He had forgotten the nearness of personal danger, for it seemed to him that all he had to do was to keep quiet, and nothing would happen to him. Some of the men were obviously recognised by Dias, but others were apparently not known there, for Lozana had to ask for a name to be repeated, and before he made an entry he looked down his list. He made a tick, then booked the ‘order'.

Nails–saucepans. Could these people be dealing in
arms

Dias was on his feet again, smiling genially.

‘Gentlemen, we have disposed of Item 1. We come, then, to Item 2. They are for disposal by the hundred, the price we require is per
hundred
please.'

‘A hundred!' roared Gleber, making Palfrey jump.

‘Thank you, Herr Gleber, one hundred is offered, one hundred—please, gentlemen, do not think that I am greedy, I want you all to be fully satisfied; if there is any improvement on one hundred—' He paused, but there was no improvement. A number of men looked at Gleber, as if they were not pleased with him, obviously he was bidding high, setting a price which they did not want to equal. There were murmurs near at hand, but Dias seemed sublimely unaware of any dissatisfaction, and Lozana ‘booked' a thousand small saucepans for Gleber, and then took other orders. They were not so free this time. Dias encouraged the sales; it took ten minutes or more to dispose of five thousand small saucepans.

There were, it appeared, ten thousand large saucepans for disposal. Dias called for bids; half a dozen men looked round at Gleber, but he was sitting back and smiling happily; apparently he wanted no large saucepans.

It went on and on.

Gleber did more bidding than any of the others, but the murmurs against him faded. Apparently the two things he had most wanted were nails and small saucepans, and he allowed others to have a reasonable share of what was left.

The atmosphere was becoming thick, everyone seemed to be smoking, and there was no air. Palfrey eased his collar, feeling very warm, bemused, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

After the tenth item, Dias raised his hand.

‘Now, gentlemen,' began Dias, ‘I would like—'

Across his words there came a buzzing sound, sharp but pitched on a low note; there was about it something of the urgency of an air-raid warning, but it was on one note, like the ‘raiders passed' signal of a siren. It had an electrifying effect, except on Gleber, who was belching contentedly and not apologising.

‘What is that?' he asked Palfrey.

‘A bell of some kind,' Palfrey said.

A little man came in; he had a bald, egg-shaped head.

The door was shut and bolted behind him.

Every eye turned towards the little man as he hurried towards the platform. He disappeared behind the curtain, then came into sight. Dias and Lozana met him near the side of the platform.

‘Thank you,' said Dias. ‘Gentlemen, I have always assured you that we would never have any need to fear an untimely interruption at any of our meetings; there will
always,
in every instance, be an opportunity to make our escape. No matter how great an emergency there may appear to be, you will always have ample warning. I do not think there is immediate danger tonight, it is most unlikely, but—there is one amongst us who has no right here.'

 

Chapter Twenty-Two
Traitor in the Ranks

 

‘Gentlemen, I
must
ask you to be silent,' said Dias, in an angry voice. ‘I have an announcement to make. A request—you will gladly obey the request, I am sure of that. We will ask each one of you, please, to rise in your seats, each one of you
one at a time.
Those who recognise the guest who stands will, please, say so
at once,
for there is a stranger; we must first find out those who are not known among us, and then we will ask them to prove their identity. You see, it will cause no great trouble—and,' added Dias, in a silky voice, ‘we shall know how to deal with the man who has no right here. Now, please, start from—there!'

He pointed towards the back of the room, on the opposite side from Palfrey.

Palfrey stared along the row, and could hardly see because Gleber's broad head was in his way. He counted desperately. Seven–eight–nine men were in the back row, it was likely that he would be the ninth to stand up.

 

The seventh man was vouched for.

‘Herr Gleber, please,' said Dias, pointing.

Gleber pushed his chair back, and stood up.

There was dead silence.

It seemed to last for a long time. Gleber licked his lips and looked about him almost desperately; he glared down at Palfrey he prodded Palfrey's shoulder. Palfrey sat quite still, his heart thumping; he could feel Gleber trembling beside him.

‘Herr Gleber will please stand at the side of the room,' said Dias, in a silky voice. ‘His papers will be inspected.
Please,
Herr Gleber—'

Gleber was half-way to the door when he fired.

Palfrey tried to get up, failed, lay at full length and covered his head with his hands for protection, but peered towards the door. He saw the flame from the guns. Gleber was firing, the men were shooting back at him. A bullet went close to Palfrey, and Dias screamed from the platform:

‘Do not shoot this way!'

Gleber was unhurt. He behaved like a madman as he reached the first attendant and flung him sideways. A second crumpled up on the floor, the third jumped at him, and Gleber smashed the butt of his gun against his head.

Gleber snatched at the bolts.

Palfrey got up, slowly, knowing that Dias had called out because the attendants' shots were liable to injure men in the body of the meeting, men who backed away at another call from Dias. For a moment it looked as if Gleber would have a chance to get out; he actually got the bolts back and pulled open the door – and then Dias fired at him from the platform.

Gleber stiffened, and then crumpled up.

Silence fell upon the room.

The stewards were on their feet again. One of them was wounded in the shoulder, another had a flesh wound in the arm. Members of the meeting lifted Gleber, at Dias's instructions, and he was carried towards the front of the room. The party disappeared behind the curtains.

Dias climbed straight on to the stage.

‘
Gentlemen!
'
One had to admire the man, there was not a tremor in his voice, and he was in complete control of the situation. The men began to take their seats – and as Palfrey went to his he saw a slip of paper on the floor. He picked it up quickly, but did not put it in his pocket. It was one of the lists, it might be invaluable –
if
he got out of here alive.

Dias said: ‘We shall meet again, perhaps here, perhaps elsewhere, at the first opportunity, gentlemen. There has been no alarm at all in the theatre, it will be safe to go out that way. You will exchange your tickets for the tokens in the usual way.
Good
night, gentlemen!'

 

Chapter Twenty-Three
Goods on the Market

 

Palfrey stopped playing with his hair, thrust his hands deep in his pockets, and regarded Bane with a faint smile.

‘There's a lot you say you don't know,' he said. ‘I don't know this and that, either, and the thing which is preoccupying me most at the moment is William K. Bane.'

‘I told you I would play ball,' said Bane. ‘I came straight here to tell you what had happened—I'm here, aren't I?'

‘Did you recognise me at the meeting?'

‘I wasn't sure of you. A word from me would have meant the same trouble for you as it did for Gleber, you can chalk that up to my credit.'

‘Yes,' said Palfrey. ‘But we're a bit mixed up, Bane. If you recognised me and didn't betray me, it might be a point in your favour. Not necessarily, but there would be a chance. You might be hand in glove with Dias working hard to make sure that I can't go too far. Mightn't you?'

‘Surely,' said Bane, ‘but I'm not.'

‘And as you had your suspicions of me at the meeting, you naturally came straight here,' said Palfrey. ‘You can't tell me what I don't know myself, so no harm can come of frankness. The policy would obviously pay.'

‘You're some cynic,' said Bane.

‘In this I'm a realist,' said Palfrey. ‘The truth is that I don't know whether you can be trusted, and the realistic attitude is to assume that you can't.'

‘That's up to you,' said Bane. ‘I wanted to find out what Dias is doing. I can tell you a lot of things, Palfrey, that will surprise you.'

‘Ah,' said Palfrey. ‘I'm in a receptive mood. The first thing I would like to be surprised about is your reason for coming to Europe and working—ostensibly working, if you like—with a skate like Dias. You're a wealthy man, they tell me, one of the Wizards of Wall Street. This isn't exactly your cup of coffee. Why come in person?'

‘I have business in Europe for the State Department,' said Bane. ‘You can check that, I guess. I'm prepared to help you find the truth all I can; that's not talk, that's facts. Before you showed up at the meeting tonight I hadn't all that confidence in you, Palfrey. I've plenty now. The man that can get to that meeting and get away with a whole skin is good enough for me.'

‘See here, Palfrey, this is what Dias is doing, as far as I can check it to date. He sells three or four cargoes of wheat, or maybe eggs, maybe fruit, maybe beef. He puts more on board those ships than there should be—he overloads them. It was the overloading which first made us suspicious of him—but we can talk about that later. He unloads, he has secret buyers, you saw a lot of them tonight. If his cargo is due in at Rotterdam, he sells to buyers within easy distance of Rotterdam. If it's due in Paris, he sells to the nearest port agents. We don't yet know how many agents he has, how many shipments of food are coming in to the European Black Market—and,' went on Bane, ‘we are going to find out, Palfrey.'

‘We certainly should,' said Palfrey, mildly, and Bane snapped his fingers in annoyance.

‘Well, Palfrey—are you with me?'

‘Subject to this and that, yes. This and that,' added Palfrey, ‘means chiefly whether you can produce the evidence that you are here for the State Department. As you said, that shouldn't be hard. Was Anderson semi-official?'

Bane laughed. ‘He was not!'

‘What part is he playing?'

‘He controls a lot of food interests in Great Britain,' said Bane. ‘Maybe you didn't know that. Dias wants him to put up some cargoes, I guess—and to finance other activities. It's a great pity Josh lost his temper, he might have got a lot from Dias.'

 

Stefan paused outside the door of Bane's hotel suite, and heard nothing.

He was expert, like Palfrey and the others, in forcing locks which were not too complicated; that of Bane's door was child's play. Stefan soon had it open, and stepped into a small, well-furnished sitting-room, the outer room of the suite. The door leading to the bathroom was open, but the room was in darkness. Another door was closed.

Stefan heard the murmur of voices. Silently he crept nearer, and heard a voice which he recognised immediately:
it was Dias.
Dias was saying: ‘I do not believe you, Mr. Bane.'

Stefan looked about him, espied a telephone on a writing-table, went to it and lifted the receiver. He gave the number of van Doorn's house and waited, listening with one ear to the murmur of conversation in the next room, but he could only catch an occasional word; Bane did not sound pleased.

‘Hallo, Sap,' said Stefan, as Palfrey came on the line. ‘I'm at Bane's hotel. Dias was waiting for Bane. Tell Neil and Corny. I think we should be ready to act quickly.'

‘Right-ho,' said Palfrey.

‘Good-bye,' whispered Stefan. He replaced the receiver, and stood without moving after the soft
ting
of the bell sounded. The murmur of voices in the next room did not cease, and the door remained closed.

Stefan went towards it, and stood listening.

Dias was saying: ‘You have been out, Mr. Bane. Why did you make a secret journey?'

Bane said: ‘What I do is my business. You're asking for trouble, Dias.'

Stefan turned the handle of the door, then pushed the door open a little.

Dias said: ‘Please, Mr. Bane. I do not want to be difficult. I have the greatest admiration for you, I want your support, but I must know where you have been. To see
Palfrey,
perhaps?'

Bane said: ‘It was.'

‘
Aaahhhh!
'
breathed Dias, ‘and was it by arrangement, Mr. Bane? Are you by any chance assisting him in his—ah—quest for radium?'

‘No,' said Bane, ‘I'm assisting him in no way at all.' He laughed. ‘Maybe he thinks I am, but you should know better.'

Stefan stood motionless by the door, afraid that Dias would see that it was open.

 

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