“Yes?” I thought I knew what was coming; but I was wrong.
“The matter of Commendatore Bernabo. I am most anxious that you should meet him again, Mr. Marlow. I had occasion to see him to-day and happened to learn from him some very interesting news. Interesting,” he added, with a meaning look, “from your point of view.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. I learned,” he went on impressively, “that the Government is considering heavy purchases of shell- production plant from a German firm. It is plant of a type your firm has been supplying.”
He obviously expected me to make some comment on this, but I waited. He drew at his cigarette and expelled the smoke slowly. Then he went on again.
“With you in mind, Mr. Marlow, I had a little talk with the Commendatore on the subject. I am afraid that the German firm is very well entrenched. Naturally, for political reasons Italy is disposed to buy from Germany rather than from other countries. But the German firm has also procured friends by, shall we say, unethical means.” He stared at his cigarette. “Now I don’t know what your attitude towards these regrettable practices is, Mr. Marlow, but if your company does allocate an appropriation for-how shall I put it? — for entertainment and such things, I cannot help feeling that here is a case in which a comparatively small expenditure would be richly rewarded. Naturally, the matter is now somewhat urgent, but the Commendatore was agreeable that I should mention the matter to you. Of course, if you would prefer to take no action, there is no commitment on either side.”
He waved a graceful hand. My nose caught a faint waft of perfume.
“You mean,” I said bluntly, “that if the Commendatore gets a decent rake-off he is prepared to switch this contract my way?”
He smiled thinly. “That is a crude way of putting it, Mr. Marlow, but it is reasonably correct.”
“I see. May I ask which German firm is concerned?”
He told me. I recognised the name as that of my principal competitors.
“And what is the value of the contract, General.”
“About eight hundred and fifty thousand lire if your prices are the same as the German.”
I thought quickly. That was just over eight thousand pounds-nearly forty S2 machines. It did sound like an Ordnance Department contract, and the fact that the German firm had tendered…
“And how much should I earmark for the Commendatore?”
“Two per cent. of the gross value of the contract.”
“That seems reasonable enough. But what about the Germans?”
He smiled. “They are very confident, Mr. Marlow. So confident that they are not prepared to offer more than one and a half per cent. for the privilege of handling the contract.”
“May I ask, General, the extent of your interest in the transaction?”
He raised a protesting hand. “Please, Mr. Marlow, please! There is no question of my participating financially. It is purely a friendly affair as far as I am concerned. I know you, I know the Commendatore. I am delighted to be of assistance to you and the Spartacus company.”
He exuded disinterested goodwill. I felt a little embarrassed.
“You must allow me to recognise your efforts in some way, General.”
“My dear Mr. Marlow, I shouldn’t dream of it. It is just a small affair between friends. I was able to help Mr. Ferning in similar ways from time to time. Besides, the business is not concluded yet. Naturally, you will have to arrange matters personally with the Commendatore. In the ordinary way he is a little inaccessible and difficult. But the fact that you are a friend of mine will, I think you will find, smooth over the embarrassing preliminaries. Incidentally, he prefers to conduct his private dealings in cash. I mention that because…”
“Quite so.”
He smiled and stood up. “I can see, Mr. Marlow, that you have a certain amount of experience in these affairs. I suggest that you call on the Commendatore in the morning.”
“I shall do so. And thank you again, General. I hope you will let me repay you in some way for your help.”
“It is nothing. As I say, I was able to give Mr. Ferning some help of a similar nature from time to time.” He hesitated.
Then, as if he had just remembered something: “But if you should wish to recognise this very trifling service…” He paused.
“Yes, General?” But I had already perceived the trap into which I had fallen.
“Please give your very sympathetic consideration to the proposal that I put to you last night.”
“I am afraid, General…”
“One moment, Mr. Marlow. In addition to the very valuable goodwill of the Commendatore, goodwill valuable, of course, only to the Spartacus company, I can increase my offer for your personal collaboration with me to three thousand lire a month.”
“Then the goodwill of the Commendatore towards my employers is contingent on what you call my personal collaboration. Is that it, General?”
He looked shocked. “Dear me, no. It is just that these things must be arranged on a basis of mutual confidence and friendly co-operation. Think it over, Mr. Marlow. In any case, go and see the Commendatore. The matter of this contract is, as I have said, urgent, but the Commendatore has promised me that he will take no final steps without seeing me again. A day or two either way can make little difference, and in a few days”-he paused meaningly-“much can happen.” He extended his hand. “Good night, Mr. Marlow, and once again my apologies for troubling you at such a late hour.”
“A pleasure, General.”
He went gracefully. I sat down and smoked a cigarette.
Zaleshoff was right in one thing at least. Vagas was no fool. It had all been done so skilfully. The sprat had been offered with generous abandon. It had not been until I, poor fish, had risen to it and swallowed that the hook and line had been disclosed.
Again, my objection to his proposal on the grounds of the loyalty I owed to my employers had been neatly met by providing me with a ready-made sop to my conscience. Part of the bribe would benefit Spartacus. The complete pill was sugared with an increase in my “personal interest.”
I was left in a quandary. Should I go and see the Commendatore and begin negotiations in the hope of carrying them through without Vagas’ goodwill or should I forget the whole thing? I had an idea that to take the first course would be a pure waste of time. Vagas would scarcely have given me so much information if I could use it on my own account. Yet eight hundred thousand lire contracts were not everyday affairs. I ought, in any case, to make an effort to secure this one on my own. It was all very trying.
I went up to my room, opening the letter the clerk had given me. It was, to my surprise, from Mr. Pelcher.
Dear Mr. Marlow (I read),
You must pardon my writing to your private address; but as this letter concerns your confidential memorandum to me on the subject of Bellinetti, I deemed it advisable to do so.
Let me say at once that I am in perfect agreement with you in principle. Bellinetti’s work certainly leaves much to be desired. I did not do more than hint at this when you were in Wolverhampton, as I was anxious not to prejudice you against him before you had had an opportunity of judging for yourself. It was possible that you might have got on well with the man. That you have not done so does not, to be frank, surprise me. Which makes it all the more painful for me to have to tell you that I cannot under any circumstances agree to his dismissal.
I feel that this calls for some amplification.
Bellinetti was engaged by me, when I was in Milan shortly after Ferning joined the company, at the request of a man with whom we had done a certain amount of business-a petty government official. We needed an assistant for Ferning and so we took him on. A few weeks later I received a report from Ferning couched in almost the same terms as yours. I replied agreeing immediately to his suggestion. Ferning gave Bellinetti notice.
I will not go into details here; but four days later pressure was put on us to reinstate Bellinetti. You may judge of the nature of the pressure and of the quarters from which it came when I tell you that I wired Ferning to re-engage Bellinetti forthwith. You must accept my assurance that had I failed to do so our interest in Italy would have suffered seriously. Bellinetti has, evidently, friends at court!
Well, that was another addition to Zaleshoff’s score. Bellinetti was an Ovra spy. Mr. Pelcher’s statement was
