by W E Johns
Biggles lit another cigarette. ‘Can you really believe this wonderful tale?’
The Air Commodore shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘What do you really think?’
‘I believe that Tricky knew all along, or somehow found out, about this hide-out, and made his way there.’
‘For what reason?’
‘Not mere curiosity. Nor could it have been love. There could have been only one reason, the usual one with men of his type, money; money plus a fear that here he might be roped in for murder.’
‘Did he get any money?’
‘Not a bean.’
‘But what on earth were these crooks doing in Mexico?’
‘They had a reason for being where they were. I’ll come to that presently. Tricky says he stayed with the gang for a month. Then there was a row and he left them. My construction of that is, either they got sick of the sight of him and threw him out, or he pushed his demands for money too hard, possibly threatening blackmail, and had to bolt or risk being bumped off. I’d say he bolted. Somehow he got to Mexico City where, broke and homesick, he reported to the British office where he had the effrontery to try to do a deal. He said he knew all about the diamond robbery and would spill the beans in return for a passage home and no prosecution. That didn’t work. British officials don’t make bargains with crooks. They got in touch with us. Being interested in the diamonds we asked them to give him a ticket home. We met him at the dock when he landed. Actually, we had nothing against him, but he was brought to the Yard where he told his story. Afterwards we let him go. He’s still in London. We’re keeping an eye on him.’
‘How much did he know about the diamonds?’
‘Plenty, if what he says is fact, not fiction.’
‘How did he account for knowing about the diamonds?’
‘He says he got the details from his cockney pal, Nifty, who, he swears, is fed up with the whole business and is pining for the homely smell of London, with fish and chips instead of the everlasting tortillas and frijoles he has to eat in Eltora.’
‘So Nifty did some talking?’
‘Yes. I told you that Ritzy had experience of boats in the Mediterranean. Knowing that if he got the diamonds his great difficulty would be to get them out of the country he planned accordingly. With the proceeds of a mail van robbery he bought a cabin cruiser which he kept at moorings in Chichester harbour. With this he intended to make for Tangier, where, as you know, almost anything can be bought or sold with no questions asked. There he had arranged to meet an agent with whom he had done some business, gun-running, in his smuggling days. With everything nicely worked out he got the diamonds and headed for Tangier the same night. All according to plan. This, you understand, is what Nifty told Tricky on the quiet one evening in Eltora, after a few drinks, when Ritzy was out of the way.’
Biggles nodded. ‘It sounds reasonable.’
The Air Commodore went on. ‘All went well until they reached the Bay of Biscay where they ran into bad weather. Then the engine broke down, and but for a stroke of luck that would have been the end of them and no one would ever have known what became of them or the diamonds. Unable to keep the boat’s head to wind they were waterlogged when they had the good fortune to be picked up by a French tramp outward bound from Bordeaux to New Orleans,’ The Air Commodore smiled. ‘One can speculate on what might have happened if the skipper of the French boat had known that in Ritzy’s soaking kitbag there was a fortune in diamonds. However, he was not to know that and in due course the ship docked at New Orleans. That was how Brabinsky and Co. got to the United States.’
‘This is becoming fascinating,’ murmured Biggles. ‘Go on, sir.’
‘Well, Brabinsky sold a diamond, and with the proceeds the party made its way to San Francisco. Ritzy thought that would be a safer place to lie low while fresh arrangements were being made. The appointment with the agent in Tangier had fallen through and another would have to be made. They still had the diamonds, and Ritzy was afraid that sooner or later the American authorities would catch up with them and ask awkward questions. Had they been honest men they could of course have gone to the nearest British consul, but there was no question of that. Ritzy’s fears were justified. He tried to sell another diamond, but the dealer was an honest man and the police were soon on the track. Ritzy told the tale about being shipwrecked, but the police were suspicious, and while they were checking his story he slipped across the border into Mexico. He daren’t risk being searched. The party didn’t go far.’
‘So that’s how they came to Eltora. Why did they stop there?’
‘They didn’t want to get too far from San Francisco. Ritzy had sent an air mail letter to the agent in Tangier explaining why he hadn’t been able to keep the appointment. A reply came back making another date, this time in ‘Frisco, with a man named Hugo Schultz, who would bring the cash with him to pay for the stones. It’s hardly likely that a private individual would have that amount of money so we can assume that Schultz, probably a German from East Berlin, was the representative of the country to which the diamonds were going.’
‘We can guess which country.’
‘Of course. But again the appointment came unstuck. As I’ve said, Ritzy was getting nervous at carrying a load of diamonds around, living in hotels with nowhere to hide them, so he got into Mexico while the going was good.’
‘Did he leave word for Schultz where he was going?’
‘That’s something we don’t know. It was a question Tricky forgot to ask. We may suppose that he did, in which case he would have to wait in Eltora for Schultz to join him. Up to the time Tricky left the party Schultz hadn’t turned up. One can see there would be difficulties. Schultz wouldn’t find it easy to get perhaps a million dollars across the frontier into Mexico without awkward questions being asked. Time would be needed to arrange that. On the other hand, Ritzy and his pals would think twice about trying to get back into the States. They may have had British passports, but remember, they set out for Tangier, so it seems most unlikely that they would have visas for the United States. They may have been allowed ashore at New Orleans as shipwrecked sailors, but having got into Mexico the story wouldn’t be likely to get them back into the States.’
‘And Nifty, apparently, was getting browned off?’
‘Very much so. He admitted they were all comfortable where they were, and had the local policeman in their pocket by means of small bribes, but not even Ritzy wanted to stay in Mexico indefinitely. Corny, too, was getting restless. He wanted to go home to South America, and Nifty, who was completely out of his element, was all for getting back to London. They asked Ritzy to split the diamonds three ways, leaving everyone to do as he liked. But Ritzy wouldn’t do that, so we can well believe that the atmosphere was getting strained. Tricky went his own way to get something out of the business; he didn’t get any money but at least he got home.’
‘Ritzy still had the diamonds when he was there?’
‘So it seems. He had taken the precaution of hiding them. Only he knew where, so there was nothing the others could do about it unless they abandoned their share. Again, Ritzy knew he was in no danger of being bumped off as long as his partners didn’t know where he’d hidden the stones.’
‘I suppose there’s no chance of Ritzy selling the stones in Mexico?’ queried Biggles.
‘Not a hope. He might sell an odd one for ready money although Tricky says he seems to have plenty of cash in his pocket. To try to unload the whole parcel, or even a few, would be asking for trouble. The stones would soon be traced back to him and then the Mexican police would have some questions to ask. Well, as far as we know that’s how things stand at present, supposing that nothing has happened since Tricky left Mexico.’
‘How long ago is that?’
‘Nearly seven weeks.’
‘Anything could have happened in that time.’
‘We are well aware of it. That’s why the matter is urgent. Are they still there?
Has Schultz arrived and collected the diamonds? Has the gang moved as a result of the row with Tricky, whom they might fear would rat on them, as in fact he has. Go to Mexico and find out. If they are still in the same place send me a cable, but not from Eltora in case the post office people talk. We can be sure Ritzy will be in touch with the post office for any news.’
‘Is that all?’
‘For the moment.’
‘Couldn’t the Mexican police find out for you if the gang is still in Eltora?’
‘No doubt they could, quite easily, but how could we expect them to take the matter seriously without telling them the whole story? The arrival of one policeman asking questions would be quite enough to send the gang packing. No, this must be done quietly. I’ve already explained the snags of extradition. Mexico, like every other country, has an interest in diamonds. Of course, if you could get hold of the stones well and good, but there could be no question of you making an arrest — anyway, in Mexico. If you could lure Ritzy over the border into the United States that would be fine. We can always rely on the co-operation of the police there. They wouldn’t want the diamonds to get into the wrong hands.’
Biggles looked curious. ‘Why am I picked for this job? Why not a regular officer of the yard?’
‘It would be risky. Remember, we’re dealing with professional crooks. They probably know all our men by sight. That’s part of their business. In any case, they can smell a copper a mile off. They’d take no notice of you, arriving as a casual traveller.’
Biggles smiled. ‘Meaning I don’t smell like a cop?’
‘Frankly, you don’t. You don’t even look like one. But never mind that. Tell me, what’s your opinion of the tale I’ve just told you?’
‘I think most of it is true. Ritzy is in Mexico.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘In the first place Tricky, not being a complete fool, must know you’ll check up on his story. To be proved an out-and-out liar wouldn’t improve his position in the case. Again, I feel that had the story been a pack of lies he would have concocted one more likely to be believed. Some of the details were quite unnecessary. For instance, why invent a name for the character Ritzy was supposed to meet in San Francisco? Hugo Schultz. There was no need for that; certainly not for a christian name.’
‘You believe he really exists?’
‘I do. He could be a Russian agent, as you say, probably from East Berlin. I wonder if von Stalhein knows anything about him? Where is he, by the way?’
‘Von Stalhein? He’s still in London.’
‘What’s he doing?’
‘Living quietly in rooms in Kensington while he waits for the fuss over his escape from Sakhalin to die down.’1
‘What’s he doing for money?’
‘The last I heard he was making a living doing translations from Russian and German into English, mostly for government departments.’
‘Do they know who he is?’
‘Some may, although he’s changed his name to Lothar Boelke, anyway for the time being.’
‘You’ve got his address?’
‘Yes.’
Biggles tapped the ash off his cigarette. ‘I've made a point of keeping away from him, but it might be worth a call to see if he knows anything about this fellow Hugo Schultz.’
‘There’s just a chance he may know him, or know of him, although Schultz is a common name in Germany; and, of course, it could be an alias.’
Biggles nodded. ‘I'll try it. By the way, I take it you have descriptions of Ritzy and his pals?’
‘Yes. As they have done time you’ll find photos and fingerprints of Brimshawe and Cornelli downstairs.’
Biggles thought for a moment. ‘I can see a snag about going to Mexico. I know enough Spanish to get along as a tourist, but perhaps not enough to deal with official arguments should they arise. I haven’t had to speak Spanish for some time.’
‘Polish it up on the way out. Travelling as a tourist, as I suggest you do, you’ll have time on your hands. Anyhow, as Eltora isn’t a great way from the border you’ll probably find that most of the people you’re likely to come in contact with speak a certain amount of American English.’
‘Where exactly is Eltora?’
‘It’s only a little place tucked away in the north-west corner, about a hundred miles from the frontier with California. You’ll find it on large scale maps. The road runs south through Sonoyta. Playing your part as an ordinary tourist I suggest you get a car in the States and drive down. There’s no point in taking an aircraft across. You won’t need one, and it’s unlikely you’d find a place to put it down near Eltora. It’s all pretty rough country. Oh, and by the way, you’d better not try to take a gun in. The import of arms is forbidden. You won’t need one. All I want you to do at this stage is simply to find out if Ritzy and Co. are still at Eltora.’
‘Okay, sir. I’m not anxious to clutter up my pockets with unnecessary hardware.’
‘All right. Think it over but don’t be too long. Time is precious. A delay could result in the final disappearance of the diamonds — if they haven’t gone already. I suggest you fly out to San Francisco by the regular air services, and make your sortie, by car, from there.’
Biggles stubbed his cigarette and got up. ‘As you say, sir. I’ll be back presently.’
He left the room and returned to his own office.
‘What’s the gen?’ asked Ginger.
Biggles smiled. ‘Sit still and keep quiet and I’ll shoot you the most improbable line you’ve ever heard in your lives,’ he promised.
* * *
1 See Biggles Buries a Hatchet.
CHAPTER 4
BIGGLES MAKES A CALL
THE following morning a taxi dropped Biggles outside the house in which von Stalhein was lying low after his spectacular escape from the Russian political prison of Onor, on the island of Sakhalin. Air Commodore Raymond had provided the address. He went up to the top floor and knocked on the door facing him, as he had been advised.
A well-remembered voice inside said: ‘Who is it?’
‘Bigglesworth.’
There was the sound of a key being turned. The door was opened, slowly at first, to reveal von Stalhein with an automatic in his hand. He put the gun in his pocket with a faint smile when he recognized his visitor. ‘Come in, Bigglesworth,’ he said quietly. ‘Forgive my melodramatic reception but I take no chances with visitors.’
‘I can understand that,’ said Biggles, dryly.
He entered. Von Stalhein closed the door, locked it, and indicated one of the two chairs in the room. The other was at a table at which, judging from a pile of papers on it, he had evidently been working.
Biggles took the seat and considered his old enemy reflectively. He had not changed much although there was some grey in his hair and his face showed signs of what he had been through during his incarceration on the dreaded island. But he was as immaculate as ever, and Biggles smiled faintly as his eyes fell on a cigarette in a long holder smoking in the ash tray.
‘How’s Fritz?’ he inquired.
‘He was well the last I heard of him. He writes seldom. Correspondence could still be dangerous for both of us. As you probably know, he is now in West Berlin with his mother.’
Biggles nodded. ‘I heard that.’
‘It was not on his account, I imagine, that you came to see me?’ prompted von Stalhein.
‘No,’ admitted Biggles. ‘I came to ask you a question. I know I promised you that if you came to London there would be no strings attached to my helping you to escape — at least as far as I was concerned. I was thinking particularly of politics. This is different, but don’t answer the question if you don’t want to.’
‘What is it?’
‘Do you know a man, possibly an Iron Curtain agent, by the name of Hugo Schultz?’
‘I know of three men of that name, but if you could tell me in what connection you are interested it might help me to identify the particular Schu
ltz you have in mind.’
‘He would, I think, be an expert, or at least have some knowledge, of precious stones.’
‘Diamonds, for instance?’
‘Yes.’
‘There is a man named Hugo Schultz, although that probably is not his real name, who acts as an official valuer of diamonds. When I knew him he lived in Moscow, although his work took him all over the world.’
‘That sounds as if he’s my man. Can you tell me anything about him?’
Von Stalhein frowned. ‘I don’t like the idea of discussing men I met during my late employment.’
‘After what your late employers did to you I don’t think you need have any qualms about that,’ returned Biggles, grimly. ‘Whether you talk or not your late employers will reckon you’ll have spilt all the beans you have in your can.’
‘No doubt you are right in thinking that,’ conceded von Stalhein. ‘They judge such things as honour by their own standards.’
‘It’s news to me that they have any standards at all where honour is concerned,’ stated Biggles, with biting sarcasm. ‘I haven’t come here to toss bouquets, but it was because you had a standard they could never really have trusted you, and for that reason the way you finished up was inevitable.’
‘We needn’t go into that, but I think in fairness, before I say any more, you should tell me why you are inquiring about this man Schultz,’ answered von Stalhein.
‘Very well. That won’t take long. My case concerns a big diamond robbery in London some time ago. A caretaker was murdered. The crooks got away and are now on the other side of the Atlantic. The leader reckoned to sell the stones to a man in Tangier. We don’t know his name. It could have been Schultz, or a man associated with him. But that appointment went wrong. Another was made for San Francisco, with a man named Hugo Schultz. I’ve nothing against Schultz. I’m trailing the crooks, but I may bump into him. That’s all. As it’s a good thing to know your enemies I thought you might be able to give me a line on this fellow Schultz — what he looks like, what sort of man he is, how he works, and so on.’
