Floodgate. Alistair MacLean

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      ‘You may. It has. What do you want me to blow up?’

      Agnelli raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, well, you can be blunt. Almost as blunt as you can be, shall we say, diplomatic’

      ‘That’s an answer? An explosives expert is good for only one thing—exploding things. You wish me to explode something? Yes or no?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Two things. Banks, boats, bridges, anything of that kind I’ll blow up and guarantee a satisfactory job. Anything that involves injury, far less death, to any person I won’t have any part of.’

      ‘You won’t ever be called upon to do any such thing. That’s also a guarantee. The second thing?’

      ‘I don’t seek to flatter you when I say that you’re an intelligent man, Mr Agnelli. Highly intelligent, I should think. Such people are usually first-class organizers. To seek the help of a last minute unknown to help you execute some project that may have been in the planning stage for quite some time doesn’t smack to me of preparation, organization or professionalism. If I may say so.’

      ‘You may. A very valid point. In your position I would adopt the same disbelieving or questioning attitude. You have to take my word for it that I am a member of a highly organized team. But, as you must well know, the best-laid plans etc. An unfortunate accident. I can explain to your satisfaction. But not just at this moment. Will you accept our offer?’

      ‘You haven’t made one yet.’

      ‘Will you accept an offer of a job in our organization, on, if you wish, a permanent basis, on what I think you’ll find a very satisfactory salary plus commission basis, your special responsibility being the demolition of certain structures, those structures to be specified at a later date.’

      ‘Sounds very businesslike. And I like the idea of commissions, whatever they may be. I agree. When do I start and what do I start on?’

      ‘You’ll have to bear with me a little, Mr Danilov. My brief for this afternoon is only of a limited nature—to find out, if, in principle, you are prepared to work with us, which I’m glad to say you seem to be. I have to report back. You will be contacted very shortly, sometime tomorrow, I’m sure.’

      ‘You are not the leader of this organization?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘You surprise me. A man like you acting as a lieutenant—well, this leader I must meet.’

      ‘You shall, I promise.’

      ‘How will you contact me? No phones, please.’

      ‘Certainly not. You will be our courier, Vasco?’

      ‘My pleasure, Mr Agnelli. You know where to reach me any time.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Agnelli stood up and gave his hand to van Effen. ‘A pleasure, Mr Danilov. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow.’ Helmut Paderiwski didn’t offer to shake hands.

      As the door closed behind them, Sergeant Westenbrink said: ‘I need another beer, Lieutenant.’

      ‘Peter. Always Peter.’

      ‘Sorry. That was pretty close. The ice was very thin at times.’

      ‘Not for a practised liar. I rather gather that you’ve given them the impression that I’m a desperate and wanted criminal?’

      ‘I did mention that there was the odd extradition warrant out for you. But I didn’t forget to emphasize your generally upright and honest nature. When dealing with your fellow criminals, of course.’

      ‘Of course. Before you get the beer, I have a phone call to make. Well, get it anyway.’

      Van Effen went to the bar and said to the man behind it, ‘Henri, a private call, if I may.’

      Henri, the proprietor, was a tall, gaunt man, sallow of countenance and lugubrious of expression. ‘You in trouble again, Peter?’

      ‘No. I hope someone else will be, soon.’

      Van Effen went into the office and dialled a number. ‘Trianon? The manager, please. I don’t care if he is in conference, call him. It’s Lieutenant van Effen.’ He hung on for a few moments. ‘Charles? Do me a favour. Book me in as from a fortnight ago. Enter it in the book, will you, in the name of Stephan Danilov. And would you notify the receptionist and doorman. Yes, I expect people to be enquiring. Just tell them. Many thanks. I’ll explain when I see you.’

      He returned to the booth. ‘Just booked myself—Stephan Danilov, that is—into a hotel. Agnelli pointedly did not mention anything about where I might be staying but you can be sure that he’ll have one of his men on the phone for the next couple of hours if need be, trying to locate me in every hotel or pension in the city.’

      ‘So he’ll know where you are—or where you’re supposed to be.’ Vasco sighed. ‘It would help if we knew where they were.’

      ‘Should know soon enough. There’s been two separate tails on them ever since they left the Hunter’s Horn.’

      Van Effen, appearance returned to normal, asked the girl at the Telegraph’s reception desk for the sub-editor who had taken the FFF’s first telephone message. This turned out to be a fresh-faced and very eager young man.

      ‘Mr Morelis?’ van Effen said. ‘Police.’

      ‘Yes, sir. Lieutenant van Effen, isn’t it? I’ve been expecting you. You’ll be wanting to hear the tapes? Maybe I should tell you first that we’ve just had another message from the FFF, as they call themselves.’

      ‘Have you now? I suppose I should say “The devil you have” but I’m not surprised. It was inevitable. Happy tidings, of course.’

      ‘Hardly. The first half of the message was given over to congratulating themselves on the Texel job, how it had happened precisely as they had predicted and with no loss of life: the second half said there would be scenes of considerable activity on the North Holland canal, two kilometres north of Alkmaar at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’

      ‘That, too, was inevitable. Not the location, of course. Just the threat. You’ve taped that, too?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘That was well done. May I hear them?’

      Van Effen heard them, twice over. When they were finished he said to Morelis: ‘You’ve listened to those, of course?’

      ‘Too often.’ Morelis smiled. ‘Fancied myself as a detective, thought maybe you would give me a job but I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s more to this detecting business than meets the eye.’

      ‘Nothing struck you as odd about any of the tapes?’

      ‘They were all made by the same woman. But that’s no help.’

      ‘Nothing odd about accents, tones? No nuances that struck you as unusual?’

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