The Spoilers

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‘Fair enough – but it depends on what you mean by success.’

‘I want this gang smashed,’ said Hellier in a harsh voice. ‘Smashed totally.’

Warren said wryly, ‘If we’re going to do anything at all that is implied.’ He pushed another paper across the desk. ‘But we haven’t come to my price.’

Hellier picked it up and, after a moment, said ‘Humph! What the devil do you want with a property in Soho? They come damned expensive.’

Warren explained, with feeling, the trouble the Soho Therapy Centre had run into. Hellier chuckled. ‘Yes, people are damned hypocrites. I’d have probably been the same before … well, never mind that.’ He got up and went to the window. ‘Would a place in Wardour Street do?’

‘That would be fine.’

‘The company has a place just across the road here. We were using it as a warehouse but that’s been discontinued. It’s empty now and a bit run down, but it may suit you.’ He returned to his desk. ‘We were going to sell it, but I’ll let you have it at a peppercorn rent and reimburse the company out of my own funds.’

Warren, who had not yet finished with him, nodded briefly and pushed yet another paper across the desk. ‘And that’s my bonus on the successful completion of the job.’ Ironically he emphasized the operative word in mockery of Hellier.

Hellier glanced at the wording and nearly blew up. ‘A twenty-bedroomed country house! What the devil’s this?’ He glared at Warren. ‘Your services come high, Doctor.’

‘You asked for blood,’ said Warren. ‘That’s a commodity with a high price. When we go into this we’ll come smack into opposition with a gang who’ll fight because the prize could run into millions. I think there’ll be blood shed somewhere along the line – either ours or theirs. You want the blood – you pay for it.’

‘By making you Lord of the Manor?’ asked Hellier cynically.

‘Not me – a man called Ben Bryan. He wants to establish a self-governing community for addicts; to get them out of circulation to start with, and to get them to act in a responsible manner. It’s an idea which has had fair results in the States.’

‘I see,’ said Hellier quietly. ‘All right; I accept that.’

He began to read the brief biographies of the team, and Warren said casually, ‘None of those people really know what they’re getting into. Suppose we come into possession of, say, a hundred pounds of heroin – that would be worth a lot of money. I don’t know whether I’d trust Andy Tozier with it – probably not. I certainly wouldn’t trust Johnny Follet.’

Hellier turned a page and, after a while, lifted his head. ‘Are you serious about this – about these men you’ve picked? Good God, half of them are villains and the other half incomprehensible.’

‘What kind of men did you expect?’ asked Warren. ‘This can’t be done by a crowd of flag-waving saints. But not one of those men is in it for the money – except Andy Tozier. They all have their own reasons.’ He took a sour look at himself and thought of Follet. ‘I discover I have an unexpected talent for blackmail and coercion.’

‘I can understand you picking Tozier – the professional soldier,’ said Hellier. ‘But Follet – a gambler?’

‘Johnny is a man of many parts. Apart from being a gambler he’s also a successful con man. He can think up ways of pulling money from your pocket faster than you can think up ways of stopping him. It seems to me that his talents could be used on other things than money.’

‘If you put it that way I suppose it seems reasonable,’ said Hellier in an unconvinced voice. ‘But this man, Abbot – a newspaperman, for God’s sake! I won’t have that.’

‘Yes, you will,’ said Warren flatly. ‘He’s on to us, anyway, and I’d rather have him working for us than against us. He was on my original list, but he dealt himself in regardless and it would be too risky to leave him out now. He’s got a good nose, better than any detective, and that’s something we need.’

‘I suppose that seems reasonable, too,’ said Hellier glumly. ‘But what doesn’t seem reasonable is this man, Parker. I can’t see anything here that’s of use to us.’

‘Dan’s the only really honest man among the lot of them,’ said Warren. He laughed. ‘Besides, he’s my insurance policy.’

II

Hellier propounded some of the philosophy of the film business. ‘Most countries – especially the poorer ones – like film companies. The boys at the top like us because we’re not too stingy with our bribes. The man in the street likes us because on location we pay exceptionally high rates, by local standards, for colourfully-dressed extras. We don’t mind because, when all’s said and done, we’re paying a damned sight less than we would at home.’

He hefted a large book, foolscap size and neatly bound. ‘This is a screen play we’ve had on the shelf for some time. About half the scenes are set in Iran. I’ve decided to resurrect it, and we’re going to make the film. You and your team will be employed by us. You’ll be an advance team sent out to Iran by us to scout out good locations – that gives you an excuse for turning up everywhere and anywhere. How does that suit you?’

‘I like it,’ said Warren. ‘It’s a good cover.’

‘You’ll be provided with vehicles and all the usual junk that goes with an advance team,’ said Hellier. ‘Give me a list of anything else you might need.’ He flicked through the pages of the script. ‘Who knows? We might even make the picture,’ he said sardonically.

Andy Tozier approached Warren. ‘You’re keeping me too much in the dark,’ he complained. ‘I’d like to know what I’m getting into. I don’t know what to prepare for.’

‘Prepare for the worst,’ said Warren unhelpfully.

‘That’s no bloody answer. Is this going to be a military thing?’

Warren said carefully, ‘Let’s call it paramilitary.’

‘I see. A police action – with shooting.’

‘But unofficial,’ said Warren. ‘There might be shooting.’

Tozier stroked the edge of his jaw. ‘I don’t like that unofficial bit. And if I’m going to be shot at I’d like to have something handy to shoot back with. How do we arrange that?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Warren. ‘I thought I’d leave that to you. You’re the expert.’ Tozier made a rude noise, and Warren said, ‘I don’t really know what we’re going to get into at the other end. It’s all a bit difficult.’

Tozier pondered. ‘What vehicles are they giving us?’

‘A couple of new Land-Rovers. They’ll be flown out to Iran with us. The country out there is pretty rough.’

‘And the equipment we’re getting. What does it consist of?’

‘It’s all part of our cover. There are some still cameras with a hell of a lot of lenses. A couple of 16-millimetre movie cameras. A video-tape outfit. A hell of a lot of stuff I can’t put a name to.’

‘Are there tripods with the movie cameras?’ Warren nodded, and Tozier said, ‘Okay, I’d like to have the Land-Rovers and all the equipment delivered to me as soon as possible. I might want to make a few modifications.’

‘You can have them tomorrow.’

‘And I’d like some boodle from this money mine you seem to have discovered – at least a thousand quid. My modifications come expensive.’

‘I’ll make it two thousand,’ said Warren equably. ‘You can have that tomorrow, too.’

‘Johnny Follet might be more useful than I thought,’ said Tozier thoughtfully. ‘He knows his weapons – he was in Korea.’

‘Was he? Then he’ll get on well with Dan Parker.’

Tozier jerked his head. ‘And who is Dan Parker?’

Warren grinned. ‘You’ll meet him sometime,’ he promised.

‘I’m coming with you,’ said Ben Bryan when Warren told him of what was happening.

‘And why would we need a psychiatrist?’ asked Warren.

Bryan grinned. ‘To inject a modicum of sanity. This is the craziest thing I’ve heard.’

‘If you join us you’ll be as mad as we are. Still, you might come in useful.’ He looked at Bryan speculatively, then said, ‘I think you’d better be in the main party. Mike Abbot can go with Parker.’

‘What’s he going to do?’

‘He’s our Trojan Horse – if we can find the Delorme woman – and that’s proving to be a hell of a problem. Hellier has a team in Paris going through birth certifi – cates, pulling out all the Jeanette Delormes and running them down. They’ve found eight already. On the off-chance she was born in Switzerland he has another team there.’

‘Supposing she was born in Martinique?’ asked Bryan.

‘We can only try the obvious first,’ said Warren. ‘Hellier’s investigators are good – I know because they did a bang-up job on me. Anyway, he’s spending money as though he has his own printing press. We’re already into him for over £70,000.’ He grinned. ‘Still, that’s only a couple of years’ upkeep on his yacht’

‘I’ve never heard of a rich man really keen to part with his money,’ said Bryan. ‘You must have knocked the props clean from under him. You made him take a look at himself – a good, clear-eyed look – and he didn’t like what he saw. I wish I could do the same to some of my patients. Perhaps you should change your profession.’

‘I have – I’m in the business of raising private armies.’

Everything seemed to happen at once.

It may have been luck or it may have been good investigative practice, but the Delorme woman was traced, not through the patient sifting of birth certificates, but from a pipeline into the French Sûreté. It seemed that Mike Abbot had a friend who had a friend who …

Hellier tossed a file over to Warren. ‘Read that and tell me what you think.’

Warren settled back in his chair and opened the folder.

Jeanette Véronique Delorme: Born April 12, 1937 at Chalons. Parents …

He skipped the vital statistics in order to come to the meat of it.

‘… three months’ imprisonment in 1955 for minor fraud; six months’ imprisonment in 1957 for smuggling over Franco-Spanish border; left France in 1958.’

Then followed what could only be described as a series of hypotheses.

Believed to have been involved in smuggling from Tangier to Spain, 1958-1960; smuggling arms to Algeria, 1961-1963; smuggling drugs into Italy and Switzerland, 1963-1967. Believed to have been implicated in the murders of HenryRowe (American) 1962; Kurt Schlesinger (German), Ahmed ben Bouza (Algerian) and Jean Fouget (French) 1963; Kamer Osman (Lebanese) and Pietro Fuselli (Italian) 1966.

Operational Characteristics: Subject is good organizer and capable of controlling large groups; is ruthless and intolerant of errors; is careful not to become personally involved in smuggling activities, but may have been director of large-scale jewel thefts, south of France, 1967. This, however, may be considered doubtful.

Present Whereabouts: Beirut, Lebanon.

Present Status: Not wanted for crime in Metropolitan France.

There were a couple of smudgy photographs which had not survived the copying process at all well, but which showed a blonde of indeterminate age.

Warren blew out his cheeks. ‘What a hell-cat she must be.’ He tapped the folder. ‘I think this is the one – everything fits.’

‘I think so, too,’ said Hellier. ‘I’ve stopped everything else and narrowed it down to her. A man has already flown out to Beirut to pinpoint her.’

‘I hope someone has told him to be careful,’ said Warren.

‘He just has to find out where she lives and … er … her standing in the community. That shouldn’t be too risky. Then he pulls out and you take over.’

‘I’ll get Dan Parker out there as soon as we know something definite. Mike Abbot will support him – I’m not sure Dan could pull it off on his own. This might need the sophisticated touch. Oh, and we have a volunteer – Ben Bryan will be joining the Iran group.’

‘I’m glad to hear that Mr Bryan is going to earn his manor house,’ said Hellier, a shade acidly. ‘There’s still nothing on your man, Speering.’

‘He’ll make a move soon,’ said Warren with certainty. His confidence had risen because the dossier on Jeanette Delorme fitted in so tidily.

‘Well, the same thing applies. There’ll be an investigator with him all the way – probably on the same plane if he flies. Then you’ll take over.’

Speering moved two days later, and within twelve hours Warren, Tozier, Follet and Bryan were in the air in a chartered aircraft which also carried the two Land-Rovers. Parker and Abbot were already on their way to the Lebanon.

III

It was snowing in Tehran.

Follet shivered as the sharp wind cut through his jacket. ‘I thought this place was supposed to be hot.’ He looked out across the airport at the sheer wall of the Elburz Mountains and then up at the cold grey sky from which scudded a minor blizzard. ‘This is the Middle East?’ he asked doubtfully.

‘About as Middle as you can get,’ said Tozier. ‘Still, it’s March and we’re nearly five thousand feet above sea level.’

Follet turned up his collar and pulled the lapels close about his throat. ‘Where the hell is Warren?’

‘He’s clearing the vehicles and the gear through customs.’ He smiled grimly. The modifications he had made to the Land-Rovers were such that if they were discovered then all hell would break loose in the customs shed, and Warren and Bryan would find themselves tossed into jail without a quibble. But he had not told Warren what the modifications were, which was all to the good. True innocence is better than bluff when faced with the X-ray eye of the experienced customs official.

All the same he breathed more easily when Follet touched him on the shoulder and pointed. ‘Here they come,’ he said, and Tozier saw with relief a Land-Rover bearing down upon them. On its side it bore the neat legend: Regent Film Company. Advance Unit. The tension left him.

Warren poked his head through the side window. ‘Ben’s just behind me,’ he said. ‘One of you jump in.’

‘Did you have any trouble?’ asked Tozier.

Warren looked surprised. ‘No trouble at all.’

Tozier smiled and said nothing. He walked around to the back of the vehicle and stroked one of the metal struts which held up the canopy. Follet said, ‘Let me get in and out of this goddam wind. Where are we going?’

‘We’re booked in at the Royal Tehran Hilton. I don’t know where it is but it shouldn’t be too difficult to find.’ He pointed to a minibus filling up with passengers, which had the name of the hotel on its side. ‘We just follow that.’

Follet got in and slammed the door. He looked broodingly at the alien scene, and said abruptly, ‘Just what in hell are we doing here, Warren?’

Warren glanced at the rear view mirror and saw that the other Land-Rover had arrived. ‘Following a man.’

‘Jeeze, you’re as close-mouthed as that strongarm man of yours. Or are you keeping him in the dark, too?’

‘You just do as you’re told, Johnny, and you’ll be all right,’ advised Warren.

‘I’d feel a hell of a lot better if I knew what I was supposed to do,’ grumbled Follet.