has to follow whoever collects the heroin and see where it leads him. It may well even lead to Hugo himself — if Max is lucky.'
'Is there no way to protect Max?'
'We are doing everything we can,' Beaurain replied with a note of irritation. 'I admit I'm worried that he is sealed up on his own in that wagon. And there is a chance that it will be handled by Horn in an uncharacteristic way. It was at Elsinore.'
'I don't get your reasoning,' she said, 'because there was Syndicate surveillance at Elsinore, so what different way are you referring to?'
'Horn did not have a platoon of men to back up and watch over the transshipment. If he uses the same method — and it is the more effective method — he will use the minimum number of people to take the consignment off the express when the time comes. Maybe only one man. What he loses in strength of numbers he gains by reducing almost to zero the danger that anything will be seen. And it is the normal technique for handling large dope consignments. Few men, much organisation.'
'What back-up does Max really have? I heard you talking to Jock Henderson before he drove back with his team.'
Beaurain's face, unusually lined with fatigue, became grim as he checked his watch.'Every hour that passes, while Max is inside that wagon alone and nothing happens, increases his chances. Henderson is bringing men down by car from Stockholm to board the express at every stop. Andersen's Sikorsky will be watching the train from the air as far as he can. The point is both Harry Fondberg and I expect the consignment to be off-loaded from the express somewhere before it reaches Stockholm.'
'But isn't Stockholm the objective? Won't the centre of the spider's web of the distribution system be there?'
'Yes. But international expresses arriving in the Swedish capital — especially those passing through Denmark — are carefully watched and checked by the Customs and Drug Squad people. Much easier to take off that suitcase at an intermediary stop and transport it the rest of the way by air or road.'
Signal from Harry Fondberg, Sapo, to all units in Southern Zone. Sikorsky helicopter hence designated as DRAGONFLY proceeding very roughly on axis Halsingborg-Stockholm to be allowed free access and under no circumstances repeat no circumstances intercepted. Regular reports of progress of DRAGONFLY to be sent to this office for personal attention Fondberg and in grade one security code. Any attempt by outside agencies to interfere with progress of DRAGONFLY to be reported personally and instantly to Fondberg. In case of emergency all Sapo units will use all resources at their command to protect and preserve DRAGONFLY. Fondberg. Sapo HQ Stockholm. 1640 hours.
The signal caused a sensation when received by local Sapo commanders in southern Sweden — which was roughly bisected by the rail route followed by the express carrying the consignment of heroin. Later, when shown a copy of the signal alerting the Sapo apparatus in the designated area, Beaurain considered it a typical Harry Fondberg ploy — clever, ingenious and misleading. It was what was omitted from the signal rather than what was included which was significant.
Chief Inspector Harry Fondberg of Sapo was one of the best friends Jules Beaurain had made during his years in the Brussels police force — and he personally knew every key police and security chief in Western Europe, to say nothing of the counter-espionage people and his contacts inside the United States.
Fondberg was exactly forty years old. Undoubtedly he would have won the prize for the Most Unpopular Man of the Year had a poll been taken of leading Swedish politicians. In a country which prided itself on its tradition of neutrality in all things, Fondberg was the least neutral of men.
'I am not dealing with gentlemen,' he once said. 'So my methods have to be adapted to my customers.'
'Tell me no more,' his Minister of Justice had replied. Before he left the Sapo chief's office he added, 'But get results.'
Now, at the very moment when Beaurain and Louise were expecting the imminent arrival from Stockholm of Peter Lindahl, Fondberg was starting his long wait inside his office. He was prepared to stay up all night until something developed. A methodical man, he faced a wall-map of southern Sweden which showed with a system of pins and string the exact course the train would follow — and, consequently, roughly the route the Sikorsky, Dragonfly, would take. The phone rang. It was Erik Lebert, his assistant.
'The American entered Gamla Stan again. Same address. Still no-one there. He watched for a while and then returned to his hotel. I'm speaking from the lobby. Will I continue surveillance?'
'Yes. You will be relieved later.'
Fondberg replaced the receiver and squeezed his chin with his hand as he gazed into the distance, a typical gesture when concentrating. The carefully-worded message told him that Ed Cottel, the American CIA man had once more surveyed an apartment near St. Gertrud Church in Gamla Stan, the Old City on an island joined to the main part of Stockholm by a bridge near the Grand Hotel.
Cottel was trying to locate Dr. Theodor Norling, antique book dealer and a member of the three-man directorate which controlled the ever-expanding criminal organisation, the Stockholm Syndicate.
'Washington on the line, sir,' the operator informed Fondberg.
He was about to ask her to find out exactly who was calling, when it occurred to him that someone might have got round to informing him of Ed Cottel's arrival. He told the girl he would take the call and announced his identity when the connection was made.
'Joel Cody calling, Mr. Fondberg. You know who I am?'
His caller was the President of the United States' closest aide! There was a trailing off at the end of the question. Was he supposed to stand to attention while he took the call, showing by his tone how flattered he was that such a man would use a few minutes of his precious time calling someone so far beneath him?
'What do you want, Cody?' Fondberg asked in a blank voice, using his other hand to switch on the recorder.
There was a brief pause, no doubt while Cody patted his dignity back into shape. He recovered quickly, keeping his tone of voice amiable and hail-fellow as though they had known each other for years. It was, in fact, the first time they had spoken to each other.
'First, I want to thank you sincerely for your truly whole-hearted co-operation with DC, which is greatly appreciated. I may say that appreciation is also felt by the most eminent personages in the United States, if you follow me.'
The stupid bastard meant the President. He used twenty words where five would do. There was an irritating trailing off at the end of every sentence, presumably to give Fondberg time to register due humility.
'Mr. Cody, what is the precise purpose of your call?' asked Fondberg bluntly.
'We always like to maintain normal diplomatic courtesies, and in spite of what the press of certain countries says about our playing it close to the chest and not informing our Allies of what we are doing on their territory…'
'Yes, Mr. Cody?'
Fondberg could stand it no longer. With his free hand he opened the bottom drawer, took out a pack of cigarettes, fiddled one into his mouth and used the lighter also secreted in the drawer to get it going.
'We feel you ought to know in advance…' The voice in Washington went hard. '… and not after the event, that one of our people will shortly be visiting your country.'
Fondberg knew something was wrong. He gave the conversation his full attention, listening to every nuance in the words being spoken by the President's sidekick.
'The person to whom I'm referring is highly regarded by us, and we sure would appreciate it if you could extend to him all your normal facilities and co-operation. His name is Harvey Sholto and his sphere of activity is security.'
'Which department?'
'Now, Mr. Fondberg, I'm sure you have found that unfortunately the telephone is not, in the world we live in, the safe instrument we all wish that it might be. May I suggest that Harvey calls you up on arrival and arranges a mutually advantageous meeting, say at the American Embassy in Stockholm?'
'He can phone and make an appointment to see me here. Please let me have the flight number and ETA of this Mr. Sholto.'
