Floodgate (34 page)

'Where did you get the uniforms?' van Effen said.
'I told you,' Samuelson said patiently. 'We're making a war film. The rest of us go by helicopter.'
'Must be some helicopter.'
'A war film, I said. A gunship. The end of the Vietnam war caught the US Air Force on the hop and they had overproduced. Going for a song. Elderly but fully serviceable. Stripped of armament, of course, but we ordered dummies. I suggest we move to more comfortable chairs for our brandies, liqueurs or whatever.'
Van Effen said: 'If I may be excused, I'd like to have a look at the Lieutenant.'
'Give him my sympathies,' Samuelson said. 'I suggest he might appreciate another toddy.'
'Thank you. I'm sure he would. If he's not -asleep, that is.'
Vasco was not asleep. He was comfortably seated in a small armchair that he had brought into the bathroom. Using the pencil beam of the variably hooded torch which was an indispensable item of his travelling equipment, van Effen handed Vasco the glass.
'Compliments of Mr Samuelson.'
'Very civil of him. Well, it's eight-twenty now and the same character is still on watch. Judging from his performance with that bottle he must be half sloshed by this time. Like me, as you can see, he's found an armchair. I'm surprised he hasn't dropped off by this time. Anyway, I'll keep watch until they change guard. The toddy will help sustain me through the long watches of the night.'
Van Effen gave him a brief resume of the Ministry of Defence's statement and the FFF's reply, promised that he and George would be back by nine o'clock and left.
He returned to the living-room to find that the group seated in armchairs had been considerably depleted.
'The Lieutenant seems to have benefited from that first toddy. He doesn't sound quite so hoarse. Very drowsy but not too drowsy to attack the second toddy. His thanks. And dear me, dear me, the lovely young ladies have departed. Shame. But I'm not surprised. They were hardly what you might call gay and vivacious at the table tonight.' 'They said they were tired,' Samuelson said. Julie, van Effen knew, had not been tired. She was a notoriously poor air traveller and the thought of travelling in a helicopter - she'd never been in one in her life - must have been a nightmare. 'Whatever have they done to make them tired?' 'Nothing. They're just nervous and apprehensive.'
'Just like George and myself.'
Samuelson surveyed him dispassionately. 'I doubt whether you and your big friend have ever been nervous and apprehensive in your lives.' 'There's always a first time. And where's the holy father?' 'You know the Reverend doesn't drink. But it's not that. Every night before he goes to sleep he spends an hour in meditation and prayer.' Van Effen said sombrely: 'Let's hope he includes in his prayers the souls of the victims of his nuclear toys.'
The silence that followed, of which van Effen seemed to be quite unaware, was, to say the least, embarrassing. It was Romero, in a clear attempt to break the silence, who said hastily: 'Speaking of those nuclear toys, as you call them, I told you earlier I could show them to you. As an explosives expert, I thought you might be interested -'
'Not L' Van Effen waved an indifferent hand. 'Same old principles - need-to-know and would it help any if I saw them?' He was aware of George's momentary slight frown but knew that no one else had seen it. Van Effen paused, as if something had just occurred to him, then said: 'Someone has to be able to trigger off those nuclear devices. Don't tell me it's Joop and his psychopathic pals.'
'It is indeed, as you say in your disparaging fashion, Joop and his psychopathic friends. 'The words held a rebuke but the tone didn't: it required no telepathy to realize that Samuelson shared van Effen's opinion of the Red Army Faction. 'When they got hold of those devices in Metnitz, they also obtained copies of the operating instructions. One would have been useless without the other.'
'Remind me not to be within five kilometres of Joop and company when they arm either of those devices. A palm-reader once told me I had a long life-line but she could have been wrong. How is this device in the Markerwaard to be detonated?'
'Pre-set timing device.'
'And the two other devices?'
'By radio control.'
'God help us all. Make that ten kilometres.'
'You don't trust them?'
'I wouldn't trust Joop and his friends with a firework. They are fanatics and fanatics have unstable minds. Unstable hands also, probably. No, I don't trust them. Neither, I suspect, do you.'
'You still wouldn't like to see those devices?'
'I presume you're not lunatic enough to keep those in the mill.' 'They're a kilometre away in a secure underground cellar.' 'I've no intention of going out in that monsoon. And though you might not be lunatic I think you're guilty of a grave error of judgement. To detonate any device by radio doesn't call for the mind of an Einstein but it can be tricky and a job for experts.
Joop, and his band of trusty experts have never detonated a charge in their lives.'
'And how would you know that?'
'That's being simple-minded. Why did you have to call me in for the palace job?'
'True, true. Would your scruples, or your objections to monsoons, prevent you from having a look at the operating instructions? We have them in this room.'
Van Effen looked at him then looked away. The TV was on, showing a weirdly dressed quartet who. were presumably singing, but, perhaps fortunately, in silence: the volume control had been turned off. Samuelson and his friends were presumably expecting another newscast. Van Effen looked back at Samuelson.
'Scruples? What you have in mind, of course, is that we should do your work - your dirty work - for you instead of those deranged amateurs. Do you know what would happen if those explosions resulted in the deaths of any citizens?'
'Yes. You would ensure that I joined the departed. I wouldn't like that at all.'
'Let's see the plans.'
Romero Agnelli removed a couple of papers and handed one each to van Effen and George. George was the first to speak and that only after a few seconds.
'This isn't a half-kilo device. It's only for the equivalent of fifty tons Of TNT.'
Samuelson came very close to smirking. 'The equivalent of ten tons would have suited me equally well. But it's useful to exaggerate the terror potential, don't you think?'
George didn't say what he thought. After less than a minute he looked up and spoke again. 'Only moderately complicated and very precise. Two snags. The first is that Joop speaks fractured English and people who have difficulty in speaking only the simplest form of a language usually are pretty hopeless when it comes to reading or writing it. The second snag is the jargon.'
'Jargon?'
'Technical terms,' van Effen said. 'They might as well be in Sanskrit as far as Joop is concerned.'
'Well?'
Van Effen handed his paper back to Agnelli. 'We'll have to think and talk about it.'
Samuelson tried, not altogether successfully, to smother the smile of a man who knows he has won his point. For the next minute or two they remained, sipping their branches in comparative and apparently companionable silence, when the singers, if such they were, slowly faded from the screen to be replaced by the now familiar figure of the tragedy-stricken newscaster. 'The government have just announced that they have just received two more demands from the FFF. The first of those concerned the demand for a hundred and twenty million guilders and how it is to be transferred. The government does not say whether it will accede to the request and refuses to discuss the nature of the transfer. The second demand is for the release of two prisoners who were imprisoned several years ago for crimes of extreme violence. The government refuses to disclose the names of the prisoners. 'We would remind viewers that we shall be on the air again at midnight to find out whether the FFF have, in fact, breached the Flevoland dykes.' Agnelli switched off the set. 'Satisfactory,' Samuelson said. He was actually rubbing his hands together. 'Eminently satisfactory.' 'Seems like a pretty silly and stupid broadcast to me,' van Effen said. 'Not at all.' Samuelson was positively beaming. 'The nation now knows that the government has received details of our demands and, as they have not outright rejected them it probably means that they are going to accede to them. It also shows how weak the government is and in how strong a position we are.'
'That's not what I mean. They've been stupid. They didn't have to make that announcement at all.'
'Oh, yes, they did. They were told that if they didn't we would radio the communiqué to Warsaw who would be just too delighted to re-broadcast it to Western Europe.'
'You have a transmitter that can reach as far as Warsaw?' 'We haven't got a transmitter, period. Nor do we know anyone in Warsaw. The threat was enough. Your government,' Samuelson said with considerable satisfaction, 'is now reduced to such a state of fear and trepidation, that they believe anything we say. Besides, they would look pretty silly, wouldn't they, if the announcement came through Poland?' Van Effen refused the offer of a second brandy, he had every reason to keep a clear mind for the next hour or two, and said goodnight. Samuelson looked at him in some surprise. 'But you'll be coming down to see the midnight broadcast?'
'I don't think so. I don't doubt your ability to carry out your threat.' 'I'm going too,' George said, 'but I shall be back down. Just going to see how the Lieutenant is. Incidentally, Mr Samuelson, if I may -' 'Another toddy for the young lieutenant. Certainly, my friend, certainly.' 'He may have a bit of a head in the morning,' George said, 'but he should be halfway towards recovery in the morning.'
Vasco, was in fact, in excellent health and showing no signs of an incipient headache.
'Still the same lad. I should imagine the changeover will be at nine. Some guard. Spends most of the time with his chin on his chest then jerks awake.'
Let's hope his relief is of the same cast of mind. Me, I'm going to have a snooze. If he's still there at, say, nine-twenty, give me a shake. If he's relieved at nine, shake me at ten. How do you operate the radio on that army truck? And what's its range?t
'Unlimited. Well, a hundred, two hundred kilometres, I'm not sure. Operation is simple. just lift the receiver and press the red button. The transmitter is pre-set to the nearest army command base which is always manned.'
'I particularly don't want to talk to the army. I want to talk to Marnixstraat.'
'Easy. Standard tuning dial, standard wave-bands and a switch beside the button for illumination that picks out the wave-lengths very easily indeed.'
Van Effen nodded, stretched out on a bed and closed his eyes.
George woke van Effen at to p.m.
'New sentry took over at nine. Hardly seems an improvement on the other one except, that is, from your point of view. He's middle-aged, fat, wears two overcoats, is sitting in the armchair with a rug over his knees and, you'll be pleased to hear, also has a bottle in his hand.' 'Sounds like my kind of man.' Van Effen rose and changed his trousers for a pair of denims.
Vasco said: 'What's that? Your battle uniform?'
'What's Samuelson going to say if he sees me in sodden trousers or even dry trousers that are so wrinkled that it will look as if I'd fallen into a river?'
'Ah. Well, you're going to get wet enough, that's for sure. Rain's heavier than ever. There are times when we can hardly see the lad in the loft doorway.'
'Suits me fine. That barn wasn't built yesterday and old floor-boards in old lofts tend to creak. With ram like this drumming on the roof he won't be able to hear a thing. Besides, judging from George's general description, the sentry is probably half deaf anyway.' He strapped on his Smith and Wesson, shrugged into his jacket and put the aerosol can in one pocket and the hooded torch in the other.
'Velvet gloves,' George said.
Vasco said: 'What's that?'
'Silenced pistol and a knockout gas canister. That's what he calls velvet gloves.'
Van Effen dug into an inside pocket, brought out a small leather wallet, unzipped it, took out the metallic contents, examined them, then returned them to the wallet and pocket.
'Skeleton keys and picklocks,'George said approvingly. 'No self-respecting detective should be without them.'
Vasco said: 'What happens if you don't come back, sir?' 'I shall be back. It's five past ten now. I should be back by ten-thirty. If I'm not back by eleven go downstairs. Say nothing. No doom laden speeches, no warnings that their end is nigh. Kill Samuelson. Cripple the Agnelli brothers and Daniken, and, if Riordan is there, him also. Remove all weapons of course and one of you keep an eye on them and make sure that nobody tries to stagger out of the room and summon help while the other gets the girls. As your guns are silenced, there should be no interruptions. Then get the hell out of it. If anyone gets in your way, you know what to do.'
'I see.' Vasco looked and sounded more than slightly shocked. 'And how do we get the hell out of it?'
Van Effen touched the pocket where he had replaced his wallet of skeleton keys and picklocks. 'What do you think those are for?' 'Ah. The army truck.'
'Indeed. As soon as you get under way, call up the army or the cops. Give them the approximate location of this place - we know it's somewhere between Leerdam and Gorinchen - and leave the rest to them.' Vasco said: 'They might try to escape by helicopter.' 'You have the alternative of shooting Daniken in both shoulders or taking him with you. I'm virtually certain that none of this will happen. I don't want it to happen and that's not primarily because by the time it happens I'll probably be dead. It would be a confession of failure and I don't like being associated with failure. It would be a most unsatisfactory conclusion: in fact, it would be no conclusion at all. Samuelson has another headquarters and, as we have agreed, other associates: O'Brien has almost certainly departed this evening to associate with those other associates. Even although I doubt it, some of those associates may - I repeat may - be in a position to carry out his plans to a successful conclusion.' He opened the window. 'Back at ten-thirty.' He slid down the two knotted sheets and vanished into the shadows.
George and Vasco went into the darkened bathroom. Vasco said: 'He is a cold-blooded bastard, isn't he?'
George said: 'Um.'
'But he's a killer. "
'I know he has killed and would do so again. But he's very selective, is our Peter. Nobody who has ever departed this world and at his hands has ever been mourned by society.'