‘The friends being members of Jacques?’
Pol’s smile became less benign. ‘Mon chèr, Jacques is a highly exclusive organization. You happened to hear about it only from Mönch. That was not your fault. But do not think, as a journalist, that you have the privilege to mention Jacques so lightly whenever you feel like it.’ He ordered more wine and there was a moment’s uncomfortable pause.
‘Why did you ask us out here?’ said Hawn.
‘Because I think you can be useful to me. I also like you — and that is more than I can say for most of my fellow creatures. I want to continue to work with you. But first, let us share our resources. You have shown me Mönch’s original documents. I am particularly interested by his references to “Bettina”. In my own researches I have come across this name before, but have never known what it signified.
‘Mönch’s information is far from complete, and it leaves much guessing. But I happen to know, from private sources, that he held a unique position in the Third Reich — one that enjoyed the confidence of the Nazi leadership on one side, and gave him easy access to the British and Americans on the other — that is to say, agents working for the British and Americans. But only in the most intense secrecy.’
Anna interrupted him. ‘From what I know, the Nazis always worked in the greatest secrecy. Even the extermination of the Jews was kept secret from most Germans. There are no records, for instance, of the Wannsee Conference when they decided on the Final Solution for the Jews.’
‘The Jews were another question,’ said Pol. ‘Hitler’s gang knew that once they embarked on the murder of an entire people, they were putting themselves beyond the pale. Given the Nazi ideology, the Final Solution was the obvious consequence, of course. But they also knew that if they lost the war, the world would never forgive them. At Nuremberg Goering is reputed to have said, “If it hadn’t been for Auschwitz, none of us would be in the dock now.”’
‘All right,’ said Hawn, ‘but the guilt of murdering six million Jews is rather different from importing a few million tonnes of crude oil from your adversaries. So why the intense secrecy?’
‘Because for the first time in the history of the oil business, the big international companies were not entirely their own masters. There were plenty of crooks about in the Second World War, on both sides, but on the whole Churchill and Roosevelt played a straight game. And if they had even suspected that their underlings were trading in oil with the enemy, heads would have rolled, perhaps even literally. The Nazis needed that oil. And they needed to protect the people who were supplying it to them.’
‘But, do we have proof of all this?’ Hawn said.
Pol grinned. ‘Proof, mon chèr, is a relative thing. It depends on whom you want to convince. No, I do not need sufficient proof to satisfy an international court of law. All I need is enough proof to satisfy myself and — how shall I put it? — my friends.’
‘Then you take justice into your own hands?’
‘Justice? What is that? Give me an example of justice that has emerged from any war? But these are academic arguments. We’re wasting time, and, worse, we’re wasting this excellent food!’ He ate for a moment in silence. ‘But you surely have something to tell me?’
Hawn paraphrased his researches into Salak and the unhappy de Vere Frisby — though he was careful at this point not to mention Shanklin: Shanklin was too near home for comfort — while Anna followed with a neat resumé of her researches to date.
‘I’m afraid it’s not much to show for a month’s work,’ Hawn said. ‘At least, hardly enough for you to unleash your dogs of justice once again.’
‘Not at all, mon chèr! On the contrary, what you have both recounted interests me greatly. For a start, it establishes a definite link between Turkey and the Caribbean. That is the one link that has so far evaded me.
‘Now, I have been doing a little work of my own. I have a friend who was in Istanbul during the war. He has also heard of this man Salak. The gentleman appears to have been a formidable character — no wonder your SOE used him. Or rather, shared him with the Germans! But most important of all, the man is still alive.’ He put his hand inside his jacket and hauled out a long plain envelope which he handed across to Hawn.
Inside were again two first-class air tickets, this time open-return, Paris to Istanbul. They were booked in his and Anna’s full names — departure time 9.30 next morning from Orly. There were also 100,000 francs in 500-franc notes — more than a thousand pounds.
Hawn was not immune to the seductive sight and feel of so much cash, so suddenly, gratuitously offered. He felt his judgement and resolution weakening. He looked at Anna, and she looked back at him, bright-eyed, curious. He said to Pol: ‘What’s the brief? Track down this man Salak, so your boys can catch up and deal with him?’
‘Mon chèr, even for a journalist you have sometimes a most indelicate way of expressing yourself. I want information from Salak. I want you to help me to get it. I want you to bribe him — buy him. And if you need more funds, you know where to get them.’
‘Why don’t you do it yourself?’ said Anna.
‘Because, as I have told you before, I am sadly too conspicuous — too many people know me — and my reputation is wide, and not always so pure.’ He wiped some sauce off his beard. ‘But you are the ideal pair — a professional journalist and his
