The Londum Omnibus Volume Two (The Londum Series Book 12)

by Tony Rattigan

  ‘Understood,’ said Jim. ‘No problem, that’s usually the way I work.’

  ‘Good. That’s what I figured. It’s why you’re here, I was impressed with your performance in Pils-Holstein and I figured this type of job would be right up your street.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I must impress on you Jim that no one outside this room must know about this. Not your friends, not your underworld contacts, no one!’

  ‘Relax, I get it. By the way, Thornton, you do know they can still go ahead and have their little war, don’t you? Even without that bit of paper. They don’t need that to make it all happen.’

  ‘I know that Jim but once we have the treaty in our hands, signed by both parties, we can take it to the Deutschen so they will be alerted and can put themselves on a war footing. But more importantly, they can take it to the Council of Nations and publicly embarrass both the Rooskians and the Osterreichs and cause the other Council members to side against them. Hopefully this will lead to them calling a halt to their plans for the time being and Albion can stay in the background as it will be the Deutschen who have revealed the plot. We mustn’t be seen to have a hand in this.’

  Jim lit another cigarette and sipped his wine as he thought it through. Thornton excused himself and leaving him to it, went to wash the plates from lunch. When he came back Jim was studying the Atlas.

  ‘Okay,’ he told Thornton. ‘I’m in. Where and when will the treaty be signed?’

  ‘Budapescht in Ungary we believe, in two weeks time. That okay?’

  ‘Yes, I can manage that. Now then, I’m a loyal Albion man but what about my fee?’

  Thornton got a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote a number on it. He slid it across the table to Jim. Jim read it and taking the pencil from Thornton wrote his own number on the paper.

  ‘Seems rather a lot,’ said Thornton.

  ‘Not to stop a war it isn’t.’

  They looked at each other and then Thornton relented. ‘Very well. And which charity would you like me to send it to this time?’

  Jim wrote a name and address on the paper.

  ‘Lady Matilda Hetheringham? The Lady Matilda Hetheringham?’

  ‘Yes, that’s her. I want you to tell her that when the government calculated her husband’s death duties, they got it wrong and took too much. This is what they owe her as a refund. Can you do that? I’m sure you have the contacts.’

  ‘It’s your money. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Come back and see me in a few days and we’ll go through the briefing about the mission.’

  ‘Wait a minute. We haven’t quite finished negotiating terms,’ said Jim. ‘There’s one other item that I want as payment.’

  ‘Go on,’ said Thornton, cautiously.

  So Jim explained to him what else he wanted in return for stealing the treaty.

  ***

  Jim banged on the roof of the Hansom cab with his cane. Bob Carpenter got the message and pulled over to the side of the road. Jim jumped down to the kerb. He waved to Bob, ‘I won’t be long, Bob. Keep an eye open, will you?’

  ‘Sure thing Mr. Darby,’ replied Bob. Jim often used him to take him to places where he didn’t want to be seen going, or even sometimes he had actually driven Jim to his crimes and back, when the best cover was just being another anonymous cab on the street. Jim had come to trust him over the years and he knew he could rely on him to be waiting for him when he came out and if necessary to back him up physically if needed.

  Now was one of those times when Jim didn’t want to be seen going somewhere. He had received word from Laszlo Kovach via Willy Templeton (Jim’s errand boy) that he was prepared to see him and offering a time and place for the meeting. Jim had just pulled up outside a restaurant, the place, just before three o’clock, the time.

  Laszlo Kovach was a gang boss in Londum. Not the top one but certainly in the top three or four. He had a reputation for being a bit vicious if somebody crossed him but on the whole he ran a tight crew and he kept the unnecessary violence in check. The reason Jim wanted to see him was because he was Ungarian. With a bit of luck he knew someone in the business in Ungary, perhaps even Budapescht. Jim was looking for an introduction to someone there, who could help him out if things got tough. Thornton had warned him not to let anyone know that he was going there but when it came down to it, it was his neck on the line, not Thornton’s. Besides, they only had to know he was going there to commit a crime, he didn’t have to tell them anything about the Secret Service.

  Gripping his cane tightly, Jim headed into the restaurant. The waiter approached him and Jim told him that he had an appointment with Mr. Kovach. The waiter nodded and beckoned Jim to follow him down a short corridor to a private dining room. He knocked on the door and when it was opened he muttered something to the man who answered. The man muttered something back and then waved Jim forward. As the waiter left, the man indicated that Jim should raise his arms and then he expertly frisked him. He took Jim’s cane and then held out his hand for Jim’s hat. Jim gave it to him and the man placed it carefully on a chair. Then he opened the door to the private dining room and waved him in.

  Jim stepped through the door and eyed the two men either side of it. They were just cheap muscle so he ignored them. Looking further into the room he saw a circular table in the centre of a large room, covered with plates of food. At the opposite side of the table sat two men, eating, one middle-aged, one about early forties. Behind them stood a drinks bar and another door, presumably leading to the kitchen.

  Jim spoke to the middle-aged man, ‘Mr. Kovach, good of you to see me.’

  ‘Mr. Darby, welcome. Please, take a seat.’

  Jim took the seat nearest him which put him on the opposite side of the table, facing them directly.

  ‘Fedor, please give Mr. Darby a drink and some food.’ His companion, the man in his forties, poured Jim a glass of red wine which he sipped while Fedor quickly assembled a plate of several slices of buttered bread and slices of cold meat and cheeses, which he placed in front of Jim. ‘It is the Ungarian custom to partake of a light meal in the afternoon. It is known as uzsonna,’ Kovach told him. ‘Please eat. We will talk after.’

  Kovach and Fedor helped themselves to food as well so Jim tucked into his, he would just have to wait until Kovach was ready to begin discussions.

  ‘This is delicious,’ said Jim. ‘Are these cheeses all Ungarian?’

  ‘Yes. We don’t just make Goulash you know,’ Kovach replied.

  Jim waited until Kovach had finished eating and then put his plate aside and sipped his wine while he waited for Kovach to speak. At a nod from Kovach, Fedor refilled everyone’s glass.

  ‘Now then, what can I do for you, Mr. Darby?’ asked Kovach.

  ‘Well, the matter is highly confidential, I’m afraid.’

  Kovach considered it for a moment and then waved the two men by the door out. ‘Fedor stays,’ he said. ‘Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of him.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ replied Jim.

  Fedor gave a cigar to Kovach and lit it for him and then offered one to Jim. Jim refused the offer and had one of his own cigarettes. When everyone had lit up and was puffing away, Kovach got down to business, curious to find out the reason why Jim was there.

  ‘Now then, what does the great Jim Darby want from me? I hope that my organisation hasn’t somehow crossed your path on some endeavour or other?’ asked Kovach, hopefully. This had actually happened from time to time in the past and the ones who had done it had been given cause to regret their actions, by Jim.

  Not many people knew what Jim actually did (although there were one or two fences that had hinted to Kovach that Jim was in the “jewellery business”) but the word on the street was that he was not a man to cross. Kovach had heard about the time that a couple of strangers had gone into The Golden Gryphon and demanded protection money. Jim had sent them on their way with a flea in their ear. They had come back next day with several others, to
oled up, looking for trouble. Jim and the staff of The Golden Gryphon had given them a ‘bloody good hiding’ and thrown them out. They never went back.

  And then there was the time that someone in the East End was kidnapping and killing little children. The police had a suspect but could find no evidence against him. There was a whisper of a rumour that Jim had abducted him and had a quiet word in his ear. The next thing anyone knew, the suspect turned up at the local police station, frightened out of his wits, begging to be arrested and offering to confess, obviously feeling that a quick death at the end of a rope was preferable to whatever Jim Darby was offering to do to him.

  Although he was an independent, Jim was widely considered to be a dangerous opponent by the criminal fraternity and best ‘left alone’.

  ‘No, no, nothing like that,’ Jim assured him. ‘I like to feel that there is room for both organisations like yours and independent operators such as myself.’

  ‘Quite so,’ agreed Kovach, privately relieved. He wasn’t scared of Jim but it was just plain bad business to have someone like him, ranged against them.

  ‘You see, the reason behind my wishing to meet with you is that I will shortly be visiting Budapescht on a little business trip. I expect it to go smoothly, but you can never tell with these things. In that case it would be useful if there was someone in the country that I could go to for support, backup, intelligence, that sort of thing. I may even need to go to ground, who knows? And it occurs to me that you being from Ungary, perhaps you know someone suitable and if so, might be willing to provide an introduction to said person.’

  ‘I see,’ said Kovach. ‘A moment please while I discuss this with my colleague.’ He and Fedor walked over to the bar and leaned on it as they put their heads together, muttering under their breath, while Jim sipped his wine and smoked his cigarette. At first Fedor’s expression and his body language seemed to indicate he was not keen on the idea of helping Jim and shot him a few suspicious glances but after a while he seemed to come around to Kovach’s way of thinking and shrugged in acceptance.

  ‘Very well, Mr. Darby, I do have someone who would be suitable, a second cousin of mine. He happens to run one of the major ga- ... er, organisations in Budapescht. I could write you a letter of introduction telling him I would be grateful if he assisted you, should it be necessary.’

  ‘Of course, I wouldn’t bother him unless absolutely essential,’ Jim assured him.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Now then, naturally a service like this deserves recompense. I’m sure we could agree on an amount that would suit us both.’

  Kovach said something in Ungarian to Fedor and Fedor nodded, smiling. ‘Or perhaps we could agree on some other form of currency in payment,’ Kovach told Jim.

  ‘Such as?’ asked Jim, puzzled.

  ‘Well, we could have your ... good will, let’s call it. You will owe us a favour.’

  ‘And such a favour would be?’

  ‘Whatever our needs are at the time of asking.’

  ‘But there would have to be a few limitations. I won’t kill for you or rob anyone that I think doesn’t deserve it.’

  ‘I’ll accept those limitations,’ said Kovach. ‘Do we have a deal?’

  Jim hesitated a moment while Kovach and Fedor exchanged glances. He wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into but he was always willing to take a risk. He might even get killed in Budapescht and never have to pay the debt. ‘We have a deal,’ he told them.

  ‘To have the great Jim Darby in debt to us, that is not an opportunity that many people get. Rest assured, I shall not use it lightly. Very well, as to our business, I will draft a letter and you will have it tomorrow.’

  ‘Excellent, could you please deliver it to me at The Golden Gryphon? If I’m not there ask for the landlord, Lenny Poole. You can leave it with him.’

  ‘It will be so,’ Kovach told him.

  ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I must be going. Thank you for the hospitality and I’m glad we could do business.’ He stood up, shook both their hands and left the room. Picking up his hat and cane he made his way out to where Bob was waiting.

  ‘Take me home, Bob,’ he instructed him and with a crack of Bob’s whip, they set off.

  ***

  The bell above the door jingled as Jim walked into Thornton’s book shop. Thornton looked up and greeted him. Locking the door and turning the sign around to read ‘Closed’, he led him through into the back room.

  ‘Pour us both a drink would you?’ asked Thornton, indicating the drinks cabinet. ‘Make mine a whisky.’ He went to the bureau and took out a folder. As Jim got the drinks and sat himself down at the table, Thornton opened the folder and took out several documents and papers, which he spread across the table. He lit himself a cigar and offered one to Jim but he preferred to smoke one of his own cigarettes.

  ‘Right,’ said Thornton. ‘The first thing you will need is a false identity. The last time you did a job for us we set you up with a cover name of Michael Lewis. It was easier to resurrect that one than create a completely new cover, so here is a passport in the name of Michael Lewis and all the reservations have been made in that name. You’re a textile manufacturer from Jorvikshire.’ He slid the passport and various tickets and timetables across to Jim.

  ‘Eeh by gum! There’s trouble at mill!’ said Jim, in a broad Jorvikshire accent. ‘Put kettle on Ethel there’s-’ he stopped as he realised that Thornton was staring at him with raised eyebrows. ‘Sorry, just my little joke,’ apologised Jim. ‘Please, carry on.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’re going to treat this trip a little more seriously. Now, back to business, as part of your cover we have made an appointment for you with a Budapescht cloth importer, so please go and see him, it will provide an alibi for why you are in Budapescht.

  ‘You will see that you are booked on the boat train to Dubris the day after tomorrow and then the ferry to Gaul. From there your route has been booked all the way to Budapescht where you are booked into the Kempinski Hotel, which is near the Chain Bridge.’

  ‘Chain Bridge?’ asked Jim.

  ‘I take it you’ve never been to Budapescht?’

  ‘Never been to Ungary at all.’

  ‘The Szechenyi Chain Bridge is a suspension bridge that spans the River Danube, or the Duna as the Ungarians call it, and connects the two towns of Buda and Pescht. So if your hotel is near that, you are effectively in the centre of Budapescht.’

  ‘Oh I see, right, carry on.’

  ‘Okay then, that’s the logistics out of the way. Now, down to business. The Rooskian cultural delegation will be there in a couple of weeks. You’ll have time to travel to Budapescht and study the lay of the land before they arrive. Our best information at the moment is that the Rooskian Embassy will host the affair. Their Foreign Minister Grenko will introduce it. It will be open to the public and the Osterreich Foreign Minister will attend the opening, conveniently putting them both in the same place, at the same time, with a cover story. Then they will probably withdraw to a side room, sign the treaty and then both parties withdraw.

  ‘You are to steal that treaty. Grenko will probably stay a day or two to make it look good but that is all the time you will have to make your move. That treaty must not make it back to the Rooskian capital, Moskva, or all will be lost. If you can’t retrieve it then destroy it. At least that will delay things and we may get another chance in the future. I imagine that using the cultural display as a cover will give you your best chance to get into the embassy.’

  ‘Yes, it seems my best option at the moment. But I’ll wait until I get there before I make any plans. Speaking of which ... do you have any plans of the embassy?’

  ‘Our agents will supply that when you get to Budapescht. It would be embarrassing if they were discovered by customs officers in your luggage on the way there. There’ll be embassy plans, the location of the safe, any other information they can get their hands on that might be useful to you. It will all be waiting for you at yo
ur hotel. There will be one of the local network working in the hotel, so any updates you need to be aware of, they can contact you quickly.’

  ‘You seem to have quite a network out there,’ Jim commented.

  ‘It’s not actually mine you understand, I just have access to it. They seem an efficient bunch.’

  ‘British?’

  ‘No, actually, they’re all Ungarians.’

  ‘I know why you and I are doing it,’ said Jim. ‘But why would the Ungarians sell out their own country?’

  ‘I’m afraid the grand plan of combining Osterreich and Ungary into one Empire hasn’t exactly worked out well for the Ungarians. The truth is that they get treated as second class citizens to the Osterreichs, witness that the capital of the Empire is in Wien not Budapescht. All the top jobs in the army and the government are held by Osterreichs. Some of the Ungarians have come to resent this and feel that it is in their country’s best interest not to let the Empire expand further at their expense.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know any of this.’

  ‘It works to our benefit so we take advantage of it. That may sound a little callous but it’s the security of our Empire that concerns us the most.’

  ‘Naturally,’ agreed Jim. ‘It is our King and Country that should concern us. Anyway, once I have the treaty in my hands, what do you want me to do next?’

  Thornton slid another piece of paper across to Jim. ‘Once you have the treaty I want you to hand it off to one of our agents, in the same way a pickpocket hands off a stolen wallet to his accomplice, so if he gets caught his hands are clean. If anyone suspects you and you’re arrested, they’ll find no trace of the treaty on you. The agent is code-named ‘Rubicon’. On that piece of paper you will find the times and places to meet and the recognition codes that you and Rubicon will use to identify each other. That paper must not leave Albion, by the way. Memorise it then burn it.