The Levanter (29 page)

Meanwhile the Israelis would be burying the dead, and, no doubt, considering the nature of their reprisal.

I sat there for a long time, feeling sick and trying to think.

There was no way of letting Barlev know about this second part of the plan. In my anxiety to make sure that he knew about the first part, I had, by sending Teresa to Rome, closed down my only safe and clear channel of communication. I could send a cryptic wire to Famagusta and try to alert him that way; but in order to get past Colonel Shikla’s monitors it would have to be very cryptic indeed. I could not be in any way explicit. The most I could hope to convey would be a hint that all was not quite as had been expected. I had no idea at that moment what form the hint could take.

And there was Captain Touzani to be considered. It was one thing to give a captain a rather unusual set of instructions and then tell him in confidence that if, as a result of his carrying them out, he got into a little argument with the Israeli navy not to worry; that he would under no circumstances be blamed or censured and could count on a nice bonus later. Admittedly, I had not been looking forward to telling him all that, but I had been prepared to do so. What I was not prepared to do, however, was, while giving him those unusual instructions, then neglect to warn him that in carrying them out he, a Tunisian, would find himself steaming in company with, and virtually escorting, an armed vessel all set to bombard Tel Aviv with rockets right under, or possibly right over, his very nose. That I could
not
do.

What I could have done, of course, was to tell Captain Touzani the whole truth and hope that, with a devil-may-care wave of his hand, he would relieve me of all the responsibilities created by the situation. I could have done that, but I didn’t seriously consider it. Captain Touzani’s early career may have been a trifle colourful, and under some circumstances I can see him cutting a corner or two, but he is a rational man, a realist. If I had wanted his instant resignation, taking him into my confidence would have been the way to get it; and his officers would have fully supported his stand.

So, I took the only other course open to me.

Ghaled was in a good mood when I arrived that evening.

Chantier Naval Cayla had proved accommodating. Maghout’s immediate boss had very quickly sized up the situation and no overt threats had been necessary. The PAF squad leader in Latakia had reported that Maghout would go to Hareissoun the following day to attend to the fuel pump and would stay with the job until it was satisfactorily completed.

Ghaled was so pleased that he even praised me, and I had difficulty in getting him off that subject and on to the one that now concerned me. He mistook my air of gloom for modesty, and, when I disclaimed that, accused me again of arrogance.

“Comrade Michael does not need our praise,” he told Issa. “His own self-praise is enough.”

I was suddenly tired of his nonsense. I discarded the oblique approach and went at it crudely.

“One who certainly merits praise,” I said, “is Comrade Hadaya.”

“You found that young man interesting?”

I ignored the leer. “He has good judgment. He made a mistake about the local mechanic and when he realized that he had done so he acted to correct it. Some men would have tried to muddle through and cover up the mistake. I was glad to see that he didn’t.”

“He will be commended, never fear.”

“One thing he said struck me particularly. It was about you, Comrade Salah.”

That secured his attention. “Indeed?”

“He said you were always tolerant of error when a comrade freely confesses it to you.”

“Concealment of error is despicable and can amount to betrayal. Candid self-criticism earns respect.”

“I am relieved to hear you say it, Comrade Salah.”

He became jocular. “Why? Has the immaculate Comrade Michael something to confess?”

“Yes, Comrade Salah.”

He looked at me sharply. “Well?”

“An error of judgment.”

“What error?”

I glanced at Issa as if I were unwilling to let him hear of my shame. “It is in the matter of the Tunisian.”

I eyed Issa again and Ghaled took the hint. He motioned to Issa to leave.

“Now then, what is this? Speak up.”

“I think that I underestimated the problem presented by Captain Touzani.”

“What problem? The owner gives him his orders. He, your captain, carries them out.”

“Regrettably, Comrade Salah, it is not as straightforward as that. There has been a development which I should have foreseen but did not.”

“What development? Speak plainly.”

I told him in some detail about the method I had used to delay the
Amalia
in Tripoli. His face cleared. I had used capitalist low-cunning; I had corrupted. He liked that.

“However,” I went on, “there have been, unfortunate repercussions. I hear from Ancona that Captain Touzani has complained bitterly of administrative inefficiency in the Agence Howell, of blunders at the top causing delays and losses for which he is now being held responsible. Our agents in Tripoli and Ancona were not as tactful as they might have been. There has been ill-feeling and injured pride. Now, when Captain Touzani arrives in Latakia in two days’ time he is going to be confronted with yet another unusual situation. He is going to be ordered to take passengers, and, en route to Alexandria, make a detour at sea which will obviously delay his arrival there. Almost certainly he will object vigorously to these orders.”

“Then dismiss him. Get another captain.”

“That is not practical, I am afraid, Comrade Salah. The mate on the
Amalia
does not hold a master’s ticket, and even if he did there would be difficulties. Captain Touzani is popular with his crew.”

“Are you telling me that this man will and can refuse to obey the owner’s orders?”

“I am saying that he may accept them only under protest and with private reservations. These Tunisians can be very stubborn.”

His mouth thinned. “Stubborn? We have comrades who know how to deal with the stubborn, Comrade Michael. Give me your Tunisian for half an hour. He will not be stubborn after that, I promise you.”

“Unfortunately, that is not a practical solution, either, Comrade Salah. Captain Touzani will remain in his ship with his crew. Besides, as a captain he has special legal powers and privileges that not even the police can ignore. Punishment of Captain Touzani might well result in the
Amalia
not sailing as planned. What we need from Touzani is not resentful submission but ready and willing cooperation.”

“That is your affair. I
warned you. You have had ample time. Yours is the responsibility.”

“And I have accepted it, Comrade Salah. But in order to secure Captain Touzani’s cooperation I need authority from you for a slight change of plan.”

“What change?”

“When the Amalia
sails I must be on board.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he said: “Impossible.”

“May I ask why, Comrade Salah? Captain Touzani is in charge, but he must defer to me as owner. Nobody could censure him for delays occurring that I had sanctioned while we were at sea. With me on board at the captain’s side there would be no question of his withholding cooperation, I assure you.”

He was silent again. Then: “I do not like it.”

“Without the captain’s cooperation I can guarantee nothing, Comrade Salah. As you say, it is my responsibility. All I ask now is full authority to assume it.”

There was another silence. At last he sighed irritably. “Why did it have to be this Tunisian?”

After talking so much rubbish and telling so many lies I was exhausted. When I got home I very much wanted to go to bed, but I knew that I wouldn’t sleep until I had finished what I had started.

Late that night I drafted two cables.

The first was to Teresa ordering her back to take charge of the office in my absence. She would ignore it, as I had told her, but it was for Colonel Shikla’s eyes and would cover the oddity of the second cable.

This was to our Famagusta office:

INSTRUCTED MALANDRA RETURN IMMEDIATELY TAKE CHARGE DURING MY ABSENCE. TAKING PASSAGE IN AMALIA TO ALEXANDRIA SAILING JULY 2. ADVISE ALEXANDRIA OFFICE. CONFER MALANDRA. ACKNOWLEDGE.

HOWELL

They would think that I had gone raving mad in Famagusta. That was what I counted on. There was no chance of the news that I was going to travel as a passenger in the old
Amalia
being treated as routine. Barlev’s informer in the office would be bound to let him know.

And when he did? Well, Barlev had twice suggested to me that I should be in the
Amalia
in my capacity as owner’s representative when she was intercepted, and I had twice refused. For him, my sudden change of mind could only mean that the situation had changed radically in some way and that additional precautions were now necessary.

And, once on the ship clear of Syrian waters, I would have a radio channel at my disposal. True, I would still have to be fairly cryptic - merchant ships’ radio traffic is listened to by many ears - but at least the ears of Colonel Shikla would not be among them.

I had done the best I could.

Michael Howell

June 30 to July 3

I had spent a long time thinking over what I was going to tell Captain Touzani and had rehearsed it carefully. Although I never supposed that he would swallow the story whole - that would have been too much - I had hoped that he would find it politic to pretend to do so. So I did my best to make it easy for him.

It was wasted effort.

He is a barrel-shaped man with muscles like a stevedore and a big, bald head. He seems to wear a permanent and somewhat sarcastic little smile, but this is the result of a bullet through the lower jaw and the scar from the wound. When he really smiles the other side of his mouth moves and he shows his dentures.

He really smiled only once when I saw him in his cabin that morning.

He had rightly concluded that the trouble his ship had experienced in Tripoli had been contrived, but had not been able to discover who had done the contriving or why. Naturally, the failure rankled. Now, he was looking to me for the answers. Unwisely, I gave him the same ones I had given Mr. Mourad.

He shook his head. “I was there, Mr. Howell. I tell you that was a really funny business. Nobody had his hand out, nobody was saying anything, nobody knew anything. Then, suddenly, it was over. All a mistake. A mistake? With nobody having been paid?”

“Somebody was paid, Captain. You may be assured of that. There was a new cog in the machinery. It had been overlooked. Once it was greased, all was well. Let us leave it at that. These things happen.”

I should have been less casual, less impatient to get to the matter I wanted to discuss with him. He became stuffy.

“Yes, Mr. Howell, these things do happen. But now, it seems, they keep happening to this ship, and that I do
not
like.”

“Keep
happening, Captain?”

“Mr. Mourad now informs me that this ship is to carry passengers to Alex.”

I had meant to tell Mr. Mourad to keep quiet about the passengers and leave me to break the news gently, but I had forgotten. There had been too many other things on my mind.

“That is the main reason I am here to see you, Captain. About the passengers.”

“I was wondering why I had been honoured, Mr. Howell. I had thought that perhaps it was because of Tripoli.”

“Let’s forget about Tripoli, Captain. I need your help in a rather delicate matter. It concerns these passengers Mr. Mourad has mentioned. What he did not tell you, because he doesn’t yet know, is that I will be one of them.”

He had small brown eyes. For the next few minutes they never left mine for an instant.

“That is indeed a surprise,” he said coldly, “although, of course, a very gratifying one. A voyage of inspection, I presume.”

I sighed. “Captain, I don’t make voyages of inspection, as you very well know. I said that I needed your help and I meant it.”

“I’m sorry if I offend you, Mr. Howell, but after Tripoli...”

“And I asked you to forget about Tripoli. That’s over and done with. This has absolutely nothing to do with it” His cabin was a hot-box. I mopped my forehead.

“A drink instead of that coffee, Mr. Howell. I have some beer on ice.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.”

But he still didn’t take his eyes off me, even while he was pouring the beer. I waited until he was back in his chair
and then said my piece.

“Even though you don’t live in this country, you must be familiar, Captain, with the political situation. In particular you must be aware of the close but covert relationships which exist between some agencies of the government and the Palestinian liberation factions.”

He nodded.

“Those agencies are powerful and have considerable influence in high places. No ministry, no minister is wholly immune from their pressure. With its considerable involvement in government-backed co-operatives, neither is the Agence Howell immune. You follow me?”

Again he nodded.

“So then, when we are asked by a certain agency to carry four passengers on a Howell ship bound for Alex, and also to arrange that during the voyage the ship departs slightly from her normal routing, I do not instantly refuse. I think first of the consequences of refusal. I don’t have to tell you, Captain, that they would be unpleasant.”

“They dare to threaten you?”

“There is no daring involved, Captain. They can threaten with impunity, and carry out their threats, too. I told you. Not even ministers are immune.”

“Dogs.”

“But with sharp teeth. When I raise objections - as, when I tell you what is required, you may do - I am insulted. When I
persist, when I tell them that no captain of mine is going to take their orders, they make a further demand. So, you have five passengers instead of four. I am supposed to give you their orders and see personally that they are carried out.”