Operation Blue Sapphire

by David B. Gilmore

  Being a Saturday evening, there were a lot of cars and people on the street. Under the streetlamp at the bus stop, Kruger could see several lines of people had formed, all waiting on their bus. Kruger stepped back into the darkness of an alley and spoke quietly to Tillerman as Tillerman passed him. “Going gambling, drinking, or do you have a date?”

  Tillerman recoiled in shock. He immediately recognized the voice and Kruger’s stature, despite the darkness of the alley. “What do you want? I thought we were finished.”

  “Edwin, whatever gave you that idea?”

  “It’s just that since I gave you the information you wanted, I haven’t heard from you. I thought you were pleased and we were square.”

  Kruger thought for a moment then decided on a soft approach. “We almost are Edwin, we almost are. Have you heard about the bomb that went off last night?”

  “Was that your doing?”

  “Me? No. I don’t deal in things like that. Too messy, and it draws far too much attention. I much prefer quieter resolutions to my disputes and problems. But because of that bomb, I’m going to need your help.” Kruger put his fingers to his lips, silencing Tillerman as a couple with a baby stroller passed by. Kruger bid them good evening and waited until they were out of hearing range. “You were about to say something.”

  “You want my help? Are you going to try to find out who did it? I don’t see how I can help you.”

  “I don’t care who the hell set it off or why they did it. But it’s bad for business, and that’s why I’m coming to you. For the next week or ten days, I need you to check the schedules of the gun shipments. If anything changes, or they start posting guards or anything like that, I need to know about it.”

  “If I find out for you, where does that leave us?”

  Kruger moved in very close to Tillerman. “Are you considering not helping me? Right now I don’t think that would be a very wise choice for you.” Kruger could see Tillerman trembling. Receiving the reaction he wanted, he backed off a little. “Listen, you help me out with this and it’ll go a long way toward cleaning the slate.”

  Feeling he had no other choice in the matter, Tillerman agreed to help. “If there are any changes, how do I get in touch with you?”

  “Just be home and around the telephone at dinnertime. And remember to keep the conversation short. Under no circumstances do you say a word about this on the telephone. Just yes or no. If it’s yes, and things have changed, I’ll find you. Kruger pointed at the bus stop, “Go ahead and get in the queue. I don’t think I delayed you too much. Go on and enjoy your night out.”

  Kruger watched as Tillerman walked to the bus stop. “Fool, he still doesn’t have a clue,” he said to himself as he walked down an alley to his car.

  After the bombing of the café, Emma decided she still wanted to follow du Maurier and Chevalier but felt it best that they switch up the duty. She and LaCroix would keep an eye on du Maurier, and Miller alone would watch Chevalier. For now she wanted Bunnel to stay at the house and keep out of sight. If the bombing had been meant for him, she wanted the Frenchmen to believe they had succeeded.

  Late Sunday morning Emma and LaCroix waited down the street from du Maurier’s house. They had already been there several hours and nothing had happened. Just as they were beginning to wonder if they might be wasting their time, LaCroix observed a gate open and du Maurier’s car pull onto the street.

  “Start the car Emma, they’re on the move. Both of them, he and his wife.”

  After closing and locking the gate, du Maurier wasted no time in leaving the neighborhood. As he pulled onto a major thoroughfare, Emma felt comfortable they wouldn’t be spotted following him. There were enough cars on the road that she wouldn’t be conspicuous, yet at the same time she could easily keep an eye on the du Mauriers.

  After thirty minutes of driving, with du Maurier continually heading east, it became apparent to Emma and LaCroix that de Maurier was leaving the city. As the houses and buildings started to thin out, the same was true with the traffic. Emma backed off on the accelerator and put more distance between them.

  “Where’s he going?” asked LaCroix, keeping watch with a pair of binoculars.

  “I’m not sure. This is different. This is the first time they’ve left the city since we’ve started following them,” said Emma.

  After a few more miles, du Maurier turned off onto a dirt road. They were now in an agricultural area and there were no other vehicles on the road. Emma kept driving straight. “We’ll go up a ways and come back. In these open fields, we can easily be spotted. We may lose them, but better that than let them know they’re being followed.”

  “I agree,” said LaCroix.

  Emma drove about a quarter of a mile then turned around. When she turned onto the road du Maurier had taken, a thick dust trail was still hanging in the air. After about half a mile, it dissipated.

  LaCroix pointed to a house set back from the road and surrounded by fields. “They’re at the house over there.”

  Emma pulled the car into a field across the road and behind a grove of large trees that had been planted along the side of the road. “The car’s well hidden here, and we can keep an eye on the house. Henri, get the food and thermos of coffee out. If anybody comes by and asks, we’re just getting out of the city for a picnic.”

  When Jacques and Simone entered Rurik Kulikovskaya’s home, they were surprised to see his wife, Jelena, there with him.

  “Jelena, you’re back,” Simone greeted her.

  “I’ve been away to the south,” Jelena replied but didn’t further elaborate.

  After they were seated, Rurik wasted no time getting to the reason he had wanted Jacques to come out to his house. “I’m not happy about this, Jacques.”

  Jacques knew what Rurik meant but wanted the Russian to tell him. That way they could get it in the open and, hopefully, deal with it. “Not happy about what? Care to be more specific?”

  “You know exactly what I’m referring to. That bomb you had me build.”

  “You taught Margaux and Simone how to set it off. Everything went off without any problems.”

  “Oh, I know it did, it’s still on the radio.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The size of it, Jacques. You told me it had to be big enough to destroy an area of three hundred and fifty square meters. I thought you were going to place it in a house, not a café at dinnertime. It looks like you got your man, but innocent people were also killed.”

  “How is that a problem? The rest of them were Indians,” said Simone.

  “The problem is twofold. First, you lied to me about how big it needed to be, and second, it’s bad for business. When innocent people get killed, it’s always bad for business.”

  “I didn’t want to take any chances,” Jacques replied. “When I found out he was going to be at the café, an opportunity presented itself and I acted on it. It worked out perfectly.” He nodded emphatically as if to say, ‘case closed,’ then added, “Unless I’m missing something, how is it bad for business? No one’s going to trace it back to any of us.”

  “Were there any witnesses?” asked Rurik.

  “What kind of witnesses? Everyone in that restaurant was killed or burned beyond recognition.”

  “Anyone who may have seen you drop it off?”

  Simone was about to say something but Jacques quickly interjected. “I didn’t talk to anybody but the owner. I was in and out of there in a matter of minutes and the place was packed with hungry people waiting on their food. Nobody saw anything. And you still didn’t answer my question. How is this bad for business?”

  “First,” said Kulikovskaya, “I have ten kilos of very good quality opium that I’m afraid to sell. Since the bombing, my customers fear they’re being watched by the police. If they are, I can’t take the risk. Second, this week our deal for the cocaine is finally going to happen. Calcutta has opium, but the cocaine trade dried up a while ago. Very soon that’s going to ch
ange and I want to begin selling. Jacques, there is going to be more money in this than we ever made on opium. I have buyers ready to pay big money. Plus we can make more off less. It’s just a winner all the way around.” The Russian leaned forward, intent on convincing the du Mauriers. “I don’t want anybody backing out or the police starting to get suspicious of any of our activities.”

  Du Maurier had grown weary of Kruger’s and now Rurik’s caution. He understood it, but he was tired of it. “You’re a resourceful man, Rurik, you can find a way.”

  “Maybe you don’t know how these people can get when they are separated from the pipe. Especially, the ones with heavy addictions.”

  Jacques laughed.

  “What do you find funny?” asked Rurik

  “Several things,” Jacques replied. “Where else are they going to get it? Sure, there are a few legal dens, but our customers don’t want to go there and take the risk of being robbed there or when they leave. We are still the major supplier. There’s nothing to worry about.” And it’s just what you said, they are addicts, of course they fear the police are watching them.”

  “What else do you find so comical?” asked Rurik, angry that Jacques was continuing to laugh.

  “You. What’s funny is that you’re still thinking like a Soviet.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Rurik was surprised and somewhat annoyed by the comment.

  “I mean no disrespect, but you’re still thinking in your old ways. Back in the Soviet Union, when there was a shortage, what happened?”

  “We went without,” said Jelena.

  “Not anymore. This isn’t Shangri-La, but it sure isn’t the Soviet Union. It’s not how things are done. We’ll use this situation as an opportunity to raise the price! And even better, once this bombing is forgotten, we keep the price higher. Maybe lower it a little, but we can use the bombing as an excuse for a long time. Tell them things aren’t the same as they were, new risks are involved. Actually, it doesn’t matter what you tell them.”

  “And this will work?” asked Rurik, surprised.

  “It will work like a Swiss watch, I guarantee it. Our customers won’t like it, but they will pay. Trust me. If you don’t believe me, just hold it back a few days longer than you have. It’ll be like Christmas for them.”

  Rurik thought it over for a moment. “I think you’re right. I’ll give it a try.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” Jacques assured him. “As far as the cocaine, we just keep a better watch on things. If we have to delay distribution for a couple of weeks, we do. If there’s the kind of money in this that I think there is, a little more time isn’t going to matter.”

  “Just no more bombings, Jacques. If there is another problem in the future, we will take care of it a bit more quietly.”

  “Agreed,” replied Jacques.

  “Jelena was about to make lunch. Would you care to join us?”

  Jacques looked at his watch, “We would like to, but if we leave now, we can make it to the cinema. Simone wanted to go to one that caters to the Americans and see an American picture.”

  “What are you going to see?” asked Jelena.

  “I Married a Witch, with Veronica Lake,” replied Jacques.

  As they got back into the car, Simone asked, “Are we really going to the cinema?”

  “Maybe later, if Zacharie and Margaux want to go. The important thing was to leave Rurik happy. Now that he thinks he’ll make more money, he is.”

  “That’s why you told him you dropped off the bomb?”

  “The less he knows about what happened there the better. I wanted to put his mind at ease. We make money with him, but he really annoys me.”

  “So where are we going, Jacques?”

  “When we get back into town, we’ll go to Zacharie’s. We need to talk to Margaux again and have her go over every detail of what happened when she took the bomb into the café.”

  “Are you worried, like Rurik, that there may be a witness?”

  “I’m not taking a chance on it. A mouse with only one mouse hole quickly gets taken.”

  “And if there is?”

  “What do you think?”

  “We make sure they’re eating dandelions from the roots.” Simone laughed, but it was not a pleasant sound.

  LaCroix had been watching the house through a set of binoculars. “Emma, they’re coming out of the house!” He grabbed the thermos and they both quickly got into the car.

  Emma wasted no time backing it out of the field and onto the road. As she did, the coffee cups and sandwiches slid off the hood of the car and onto the ground. She crossed the intersection and began driving in the opposite direction. Looking in the rearview mirror, through the dust she could see the du Mauriers come down the long driveway and make the turn onto the road. She kept driving until she saw them make the turn heading back into Calcutta. Once they had turned, she stopped and turned the car around.

  “Emma, what do you think that was all about? They weren’t there very long. Pretty short visit. Almost like they were coming out here to pick something up, but I didn’t see them with anything.”

  “It is unusual. The only thing we’ve seen them do has either been going to work, or Chevalier and du Maurier’s wife going to the Great Eastern Hotel and carrying on. Everything they’ve been doing until now has been very routine.”

  “Don’t forget about the track. Last Saturday Jacques went to the track and won a lot of money, but he didn’t go yesterday.”

  “Can you remember how to get back out here?”

  “Sure, it’s not that difficult.”

  “Good. I think we need to come back later and get the address. We might want to try to find out who owns the house and who lives there. For now, let’s see where the du Mauriers end up next.”

  After dinner Miller began cleaning the dishes. “I sure enjoyed the dinner, Emma. It was another fine meal you made.”

  “Thank you, it was my pleasure, Vern. But the dishes can wait. Why don’t we all take a drive out in the country? That way everybody can see where Henri and I went today. They have to have some sort of land recording here. If we can’t find out who’s living there, at least we can find out who owns it.”

  Bunnel had just walked into the kitchen and was rolling up his shirtsleeves to help Miller.

  “Jimmy, would you like to get out of the house for a bit?” asked Emma.

  “You don’t have to ask twice. I’m starting to go nuts around here. I think I’ve read everything there is to read. Even a field strip manual on how to clean a Colt forty-five would be interesting.”

  “Well, get your coat and hat and let’s get going.” Driving out of the city, traffic was light and it didn’t take them long to reach the country. LaCroix kept watch and helped Emma find where they had been. “Here, turn here,” he directed her. “There, behind those trees. That’s the field where we parked.”

  Emma made a right hand turn and could see lights on in the house they had watched. “This is where they came today,” she said as they drove by. She continued for about a mile and turned around. She kept a moderate speed as they passed the house again so as not to draw any attention to themselves. “Vern, you’re familiar with Bengal. Do you think you have enough information to find out who owns the property?”

  “It’ll take a little digging but shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

  “Good.”

  “How long were they out here today?” asked Bunnel.

  “Not long. What do you think, Emma? Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes at the most?” said LaCroix.

  “If that.”

  “I agree with both of you,” said Bunnel. “This is out of character for them. Since we’ve been watching them, they haven’t left the city. I guess that brings us back to the big question. Was du Maurier responsible for trying to kill me two days ago?”

  “It looks that way,” said Emma. “I’d be convinced except for the radio reports of a government official being killed. Before we do anything
rash, we need to find out more about that.”

  “This Gurjar fellow you met with. Think his group or one like it might have been responsible?” asked Miller.

  “Him personally, I don’t know. He seems really passionate about creating an Indian worker’s utopia. I think if he was going to do something like this, he’d wait until he absolutely had to. I think that time will be if—make that when—the British go home. Then things could get really sticky. I don’t think he’d put his organization at risk now. That said, there are probably other groups out there that don’t have his patience.”

  “I agree with you erring on the side of caution,” said Bunnel, “but, at the same time, I think it’s awfully coincidental that du Maurier doesn’t show up for our meeting and a bomb goes off.”

  “I know, Jimmy. If I hadn’t taken time to talk to that airman, none of you would be talking to me right now. I just want to be positive before we do anything. If not, we might have wasted a trip over here and Washington will be no better off than before we came.”

  “What do we do next?” asked Miller.

  “Tomorrow, Henri and I will go back to the café and see if we can take another look at what’s left of it. Then we keep asking questions. Hopefully, we’ll turn up a lead.”

  Late Monday morning Kaaliya Gurjar sat in his office at the Confederation of Indian Workers. When the telephone rang, he fully expected it to be an invitation to come to the Lalbazar Police Headquarters for questioning about the bomb that had gone off on Friday afternoon. Gurjar, like many Indians, was distrustful of the police and viewed their role as not one of solving crime and keeping the peace but of enforcing colonial order. He took a deep breath before picking up the receiver. Hearing the voice of his benefactor on the other end of line, he exhaled and relaxed.

  “How are you today, Kaaliya?”

  “Just waiting, either to be called in or taken in for questioning about the bombing. I was not involved in it in any way, and there is nothing they can do to me. This kind of thing has happened before, it is getting to be routine for me.”