What would he say now if Max confronted him? It was doubtful Sir Henry had entrusted him with the Farngold secret, if only to spare him the possession of dangerous information. Even if Ribeiro did know the truth, he would deny it. Max would gain nothing from the encounter, except confirmation that his father had chosen his friends wisely. Morahan’s behaviour underlined the point. He had kept silent out of loyalty to Sir Henry – until it was no longer feasible to do so.
‘What’s it all about, Pa?’ Max murmured to himself as he walked on. ‘Who is Tomura holding? And why didn’t you want anyone else going after them?’
At the Mirabeau, a surprise awaited Max, though one he realized at once he should have anticipated. Asking after George Clissold without volunteering he was his nephew, Max was informed Monsieur Clissold was in the restaurant – with his sister.
‘His sister? Lady Maxted’s here?’
‘Oui, monsieur. You know ’er also?’
‘Yes. But, er, I won’t interrupt their dinner.’
‘May I give them your name?’
Max smiled blithely. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
News of his mother’s presence had taken Max aback. A suspicion had formed instantly in his mind at the mention of her name. Travelling to Paris after learning George had run into trouble was natural enough. That was not the issue. The issue was Farngold. Sam and Morahan had learnt all they knew of the Farngolds from the documents le Singe had supplied to them. George had said nothing about them. During his interrogation by Noburo Tomura, the Farngolds had evidently never been mentioned. But was that really true? In view of the importance of the subject to Count Tomura, it seemed unlikely – it seemed unbelievable, in fact – that his son, who was also Matilda Farngold’s son, had failed to ask George if he had heard of the name. It was the question that mattered above all others. Yet, according to George, it had not been asked.
Suddenly, Max experienced a jolt of certainty. The question had been asked. Oh yes. It had been asked.
He headed nonchalantly along the hallway past the restaurant and lingered by the door, where a menu was displayed for perusal. The restaurant was no more than half full. From where he stood he could see most of the tables.
There they were. His mother and Uncle George. They looked much like other pairs of diners, conversing quietly as they ate. George was holding himself stiffly, as a man with a broken rib was apt to. His left forefinger was heavily bandaged. He had been through it, no question. Max felt sorry for him. George was too loyal to his sister for his own good.
He saw his mother shake her head then at something George said. Max recognized the gesture in all its subtlety. It was not meant to convey disagreement or impatience. The purse-lipped smile that accompanied it told all. It meant: There is nothing to worry about. It meant: I have settled the matter.
In that moment, Max knew for certain. He knew it as he studied the glance that passed between his mother and her brother. They were each other’s oldest ally. But Max understood them too well to be deceived. They were not worried. They were not worried in the slightest. They already knew Count Tomura was leaving Paris. And they knew why.
Farngold was the reason. Lady Maxted was privy to Tomura’s secret. So was George. It was the threat that had seen him off. They knew. But they would never tell.
Lady Maxted had settled the matter. In her own particular way.
But it was not settled. Max would be damned if it was.
He turned then and walked away.
WHETHER THE HOTEL clerk would alert George to Max’s Visit to the Mirabeau, or describe him well enough for George to realize who he was, was out of Max’s hands. He did not propose to force his uncle and mother to lie to him, confident as he was that they would if they felt they had to. Sir Henry had been aware of the risks he was running and had engaged Ribeiro’s services to cover his tracks because he wanted to ensure Max did not try to finish what he had started. Lady Maxted wanted the same. She would never admit there was a secret, held captive, perhaps with Jack Farngold in Japan, for Max to pursue. She would do everything she could to save him from that.
But Max did not want to be saved. The cards he held he would play. Lemmer had to be stopped. In stopping him, Max hoped to uncover the truth about the Farngolds. And then . . .
But he could not look so far ahead. The war had taught him to study only the sky he flew through. All he knew for a fact was that he had come this far. And he was not about to turn back.
The reception desk at Max’s hotel was unattended. But the lobby was not empty. Sam was waiting for him.
‘There you are, sir. Thought I’d have to hang around a good bit longer. Short and sweet with your uncle, was it? He was probably—’
‘I didn’t speak to him, Sam.’
‘You didn’t? Too tired, was he?’
‘I thought better of it. Now, what are you doing here?’
‘Something I forgot to tell you earlier. I didn’t reckon it could wait.’
‘Let’s discuss it over that drink I promised you, then. There are plenty of bars around here.’
Plenty of bars there were, most of them insalubrious. But insalubrity promised anonymity. And Max was in need of that. He was also in need of confirmation that George knew more than he was telling about the Farngolds, so no sooner did they have glasses in their hands at the murky counter of the first establishment they came to than Max asked Sam if he would do something for him.
‘I want you to speak to my uncle before he goes back to London.’
‘Well, I was intending to, anyway, sir. Thought I should tell him how it all ended.’
‘My mother’s staying at the Mirabeau as well.’
‘She is?’
‘Yes. And I don’t want to have her fussing over me. That’s why I’ve decided to . . . steer clear.’
‘Is she the fussing kind, sir?’
‘I’d just prefer to avoid having to explain myself to her, that’s all.’
‘Understood.’
‘I’d like you to ask Uncle George if he knows anything about the Farngolds.’
‘Righto, sir. But it’s not likely, is it?’
‘Even so.’
‘I’ll ask.’
‘Take careful note of what he says and how he says it, won’t you?’
‘I’ll be sure to, sir.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Are you going to see Schools and Malory while you’re here?’
‘You’ve got to know them quite well, haven’t you, Sam? Yes. I intend to see them. I want a full account from Schools of what he agreed to do for my father.’
‘He took Mr Ireton’s death hard. It was as if he blamed himself.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘Dunno. But—’ Sam slapped his forehead. ‘I still haven’t told you about the letter. It’s why I came to your hotel.’
‘What letter?’
‘Commissioner Kuroda wrote to me from Marseilles before catching the boat to Japan. He enclosed a letter he wanted me to pass on to you. I got it on Wednesday, but so much happened yesterday and today I forgot all about it. Anyway, here it is.’
Sam fished the letter out of his pocket and handed it over. It was addressed simply to Max.
Max tore the crumpled envelope open and squinted at the letter inside. ‘I’ll never be able to read it in this light. Let’s go back to the hotel.’
‘That’s all right by me, sir.’ Sam glanced around the bar. ‘To be honest, this place is starting to give me the willies.’
They went to Max’s room. Max sat down to read the letter at the desk. Sam took the armchair – and promptly fell asleep while Max read what Kuroda had written to him.
Marseilles, 28th April 1919
My dear Max,
The habits of caution my long years of police work have imbued in me cause me to doubt the wisdom of sending this letter to you. The sailing schedule of the NYK line does not permit me much time in which to decide the point, however. Nor can I be sure you will r
eceive the letter even if I send it. The matter is hedged about by many uncertainties.
I must begin by expressing my regret for withholding from you certain information concerning your late father. I held him in the highest regard. I gave him a solemn promise that I would not tell you all I knew of his activities and his motives and in conscience I must abide by that.
My impression is that you have inherited his sense of honour and his determination to settle moral debts. I suspect you will come to learn more of him than he would have wished and will therefore realize at some point that I have not been completely open with you.
I am not alone among your father’s confidants in keeping secrets for him. I assume he swore them to silence in terms similar to those by which I undertook to be bound. Loyalty to a dead friend is not something of which any of us should be ashamed. So, I do not apologize to you. But I do wish I had been free to speak more candidly to you.
You will undoubtedly have been told by Mr Twentyman of the circumstances of my departure from Paris. I do not exaggerate when I say that my continued well-being is by no means guaranteed. I am considered to be a threat by certain powerful interests within my nation’s government. Previous experience shows them to be capable of extreme action. It is possible they may decide to put an end to me. My ability to resist them is limited. My position is acutely vulnerable.
Though your father implored me to discourage you from seeking to uncover his secrets, I no longer feel it is right for me to do so. I cannot speak of things I assured him I would not speak of. But I can say this. Follow him, Max. Beware Count Tomura. Fear Lemmer. Suspect everyone you cannot trust absolutely. But do not abandon your quest, for whatever else it may be, it is not ignoble. It is, I venture to suggest, the gauge of your life. It is what you were born to do.
Truly yours,
Masataka
Max replaced the letter in the envelope. Follow him, Max. Such was Kuroda’s urging. Such was the urging of his own instincts. He found a scrap of paper and scrawled a note on it: Stay here if you want. I have gone to see Schools. I may be some time. M. He propped the note on the bed, where Sam could not fail to see it when he woke. Then he slipped out of the room.
‘HELLO, MAX,’ MORAHAN called from the doorway of his apartment as Max reached the top of the stairs.
Morahan did not wait for Max to reach the door. He left it open and moved unsteadily back into the sitting-room. The slight slur in his voice and the heavy smell of bourbon that met Max as he entered the apartment told him his host had been drinking heavily.
‘Join me?’ Morahan asked, flourishing a bottle of Jim Beam.
‘All right.’
Morahan poured a generous measure and handed him the glass.
‘You don’t seem surprised to see me,’ said Max.
‘Nothing much surprises me. But I am relieved to see you. I wouldn’t want another death on my conscience.’
‘Sam told me about Ireton. I’m sorry.’
‘No reason for you to be. Travis was a snake at heart. He did you no favours.’
‘But he was your friend, snake or not.’
Morahan nodded and stared into his glass. ‘He was.’ He slumped down into a chair.
Max sat opposite him. ‘Sam said you blame yourself for what happened.’
‘I tipped off Carver that Travis was doing business with the German delegation through their hotel’s deputy manager, Blachette. The police bungled Blachette’s arrest. He went on the run. And he assumed Travis had betrayed him. So, I can’t deny being responsible.’
‘That was merely cause and effect, Schools. Travis was responsible for deciding to deal with the Germans. And for the consequences.’
‘You think so?’ Morahan gazed blearily at Max. ‘Well, maybe you’re right. I just can’t seem to persuade myself to believe it.’
‘You said you wouldn’t want another death on your conscience. Why would you ever feel responsible for mine?’
‘Not sure. It’s been a rough day. I’ve had to answer a lot of questions, some of them pretty damn cagily. And you’ll have guessed I’m not exactly sober. So, maybe I’m not seeing everything as it truly is.’
‘I wondered if it might be because you didn’t tell me the full extent of your dealings with my father.’
‘Ah.’ Morahan lit a cigarette. ‘Sam filled you in about that, did he?’
‘You must’ve known he would.’
‘Sure. Even though I advised him not to. But Sam isn’t the keeping-things-to-himself type, is he?’
‘Not where I am concerned.’
‘He explained how Henry and I first met?’
‘He did.’
‘Then you’ll understand I owed Henry my life. I promised him I’d say nothing to you. I kept my promise as long as I could.’
‘So did Ribeiro. And Kuroda. My father seems to have sworn quite a few people to secrecy.’
‘It’s a measure of his character that they could be sworn.’
‘According to Sam, you agreed to recruit a team to help my father rescue someone from captivity in Japan.’
‘I did.’
‘Jack Farngold?’
‘Very possibly. Henry never gave me the particulars.’
‘How can I be sure of that?’
Morahan sighed. ‘You’ll have to answer that question yourself.’
‘What was Jack Farngold to my father?’
‘Dunno. Like I said, Henry never gave me the particulars.’
‘And you’re baffled by Count Tomura’s decision to leave Paris and abandon his attempts to lay hands on the documents le Singe stole?’
‘I am.’
‘I think my mother’s responsible.’
‘Your mother?’
‘She’s here. In Paris. Staying at the Mirabeau with Uncle George. I suspect they both know what this is about. I think my mother threatened to reveal something she knows damaging to Tomura if he didn’t retreat.’
Morahan considered the point. ‘I see.’
‘During the account he gave you of his interrogation by Tomura junior, George never mentioned being questioned about Farngold, did he?’
‘No. He didn’t.’
‘But he would’ve been questioned about Farngold. That’s certain. He just didn’t want to tell you.’
‘Because he knew how important it was.’ Morahan reached for his glass, then thought better of it. Suddenly, drunkenness had lost its appeal. ‘You may be right.’
‘Oh, I’m right.’
‘Why don’t you just ask your mother what it’s all about, then?’
‘Because she wouldn’t tell me. She’ll have promised Tomura she’ll keep quiet whatever happens. But it’s what she means to do anyway.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. If she was ever going to tell me, she already would have. And Uncle George backs her up loyally, so asking him is pointless. They’ll say whatever they judge will dissuade me from going on with this.’
‘How can you go on?’
‘We don’t know if it was Jack Farngold my father meant to rescue, but we do know Jack Farngold is held captive. Agreed?’
Morahan shrugged. ‘It seems so.’
‘On Count Tomura’s orders?’
‘Probably.’
‘You had some people in mind for this mission?’
‘Yuh.’
‘You just needed enough money to secure their services.’
‘I needed enough to stand a chance of securing their services.’
‘Then go ahead and try. I have the money my father raised, Schools. Lemmer sent it back to me after emptying the safe-deposit box at the Banque Ornal of the things he really wanted. It was his idea of a peace offering, I think. Appleby banked the money for me. It’s accessible whenever I want it. I’ll make it available to you if you’re willing to have a crack at this.’
Morahan stared at Max in some amazement. ‘You mean to go through with what Henry planned?”
‘Yes.’
‘Even t
hough you can’t be sure it was Jack Farngold he meant to rescue?’
‘I’m certain Jack Farngold will lead us to the truth.’
‘Us?’
‘You and me and your hand-picked team, Schools. How about it?’
‘Can I remind you Tomura’s given me an explicit warning not to go after him?’
‘To hell with his warning.’
‘You don’t believe in doing things by halves, do you?’
‘Do you?’
Morahan sat back in his chair and looked long and hard at Max. ‘It’d be hard to overestimate how risky such an operation would be.’
‘You were willing to do it for my father.’
‘I’d have been relying on the information he assured me he had about exactly what was involved. We don’t have that information. We’d be . . . flying in the dark.’
‘I’ve done that. It can be quite exhilarating.’
‘Exhilarating?’ Morahan smiled at Max. ‘Well, that’s one word for it.’
‘How long would you need to recruit a team?’
‘A week in New York. Maybe two to assemble them ready to go. I might have to go to Chicago as well. It’d be six weeks at the very least before I could have them on the ground in Japan. More likely a couple of months.’
‘So be it.’
‘What would you be doing in the meantime?’
‘I have something to finish for Appleby.’
‘Concerning Lemmer?’
‘Yes. But I’m not free to talk about it.’
‘Even though it may have a bearing on this mission you want me to undertake?’
‘If we both make it as far as Japan, Schools, I’ll tell you everything there is to tell.’
‘And if I make it but you don’t?’
‘Pay off your team and forget the whole damn thing.’
‘Forget? I should say that’d be next to impossible, Max. You and your father are part of my life now, whether I like it or not.’
The Corners of the Globe Page 30
