Split Code (33 page)

But nobody’s fool. I had taken one step towards the desk when he turned, slipping a hand inside his coat and waving me back with the gun that he drew from it. ‘Relax, Joanna honey,” he said. ‘You don’t think we’ve come this far to have the papers burned under our noses? Now baby, that’s dangerous. You sit down, and no one’ll harm you.’

I sat down. He looked the same, with his black toupee and powerful build and broad, thin-lipped smile. Eisenkopp. I suppose when Yugoslavia was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire the names might get mixed up. There was nothing wrong with his legs.

He said, ‘We just got good news. Your old man loves ya, Joanna. He’s just cabled the answer. He’ll send the arms.’

I said, ‘He couldn’t!’ and then as he just grinned at me, I said what was in my mind. ‘What’s in all this for you? You’re an American. Comer’s business must be worth a fortune.’

Gramps Eisenkopp dropped his cigarette, stamped on it, and began to light another. ‘Comer built up the business, sure, and Comer got all the bread outta it. You don’t suppose he’d trust an old country hick with a business empire? Claimed it all went on Buckle Bunnies. Hellfire, I’da been out on my ear if I hadn’t gotten that stroke and he had to give me a bed in the corner.’

‘Did you have a stroke?’ I said, and he grinned. ‘Whadda you think? I had a telephone, and a fire escape. It didn’t hold me back none. The American branch of the Army and me, we held our meetings right in that bedroom half the time an’ Comer never knew.’

I said, ‘Comer wasn’t interested in freedom for Serbo-Croats?’ and he spat, alarmingly.

‘Comer’s an all-fire clean, honest, money-lovin’ American. Comer an’ his whinin’ stitched-up little tart want all the tinsel, and’ll crawl in the dirt to folk like the Warr Beckenstaff bitches to get it. Comer don’t want to know about you or me or Yugoslavia. He hates Yugoslavia. Talk to Comer about where his forebears came from and you’ll be out on your ass like a dog-flea.’

‘Well, that’s the Health Code,’ I said. ‘What beats me is why Comer was allowed to survive. Think what you could have done with the whole Eisenkopp business.’

There were grinning faces all about me. They all knew the story, and were proud of it. Gramps said, ‘I toldya I had telephones, didn’t I? And the best advice, an’ a little natural talent, it must be said. When Comer gets back to New York he has a little surprise or two waitin’ for him. Nice an’ easy over the years, Comer’s assets have gotten into a strange way of meltin’. Now ain’t that peculiar? Of course, if I’da been staying on in the States, I’da been for the slammer. He woulda enjoyed that, would Comer.

‘But I’m not goin’ back. I’m stayin’ here where I belong. And when the old man goes, I’ll be right in there, leading my nation to freedom.’

‘And the castle?’ I said. ‘How did you know about these rooms under the castle?’

Rudi Klapper was perched on a workbench, twirling his own revolver on a single finger, over and over. ‘You was at the Wonderland that day,’ he said. ‘This Big-Head Panadek. he had a toy of the castle, made up from a blueprint. We had a good look, an’ took a picture or two. Just in case.’

They’d been smart, and were proud of it. They’d changed their plans twice: once because of the smallpox and once because the nuns who ran Gospa od škrpjela had turned out to be planning to stay there.

The castle basement had been third choice, and the best. There was an access from the grounds which ran under the moat. They could come and go without the caretakers being any the wiser. The arrival of Panadek himself and his party had been a shock, but after a while they all saw the beauty of it. The only danger was that Panadek himself might take it into his head to open the workshops. And they had guarded against that by destroying all but one of the devices that opened the master doors.

I had seen it. It was in Eisenkopp’s pocket. Where I had no hope of reaching it.

‘That was one danger,’ Gramps was saying easily. ‘The other was sure one hell of a surprise. That dude painter? You knew about that?’

I said, ‘Just that he was a family friend. I think my father must have asked him to keep an eye on me.’

The black eyes surveying me were perfectly genial. ‘You do,’ said Gramps Eisenkopp. ‘An’ that homing beacon you let them fix in your mouth: that was just a precaution as well?’

‘I’m a coding expert,’ I said. ‘And a big security risk. What are you afraid of? You got rid of the bug. If you’ve been watching Johnson since he arrived, it must be pretty obvious that he has no idea where I am, or even
Dolly
for that matter. It’s just as well. I suppose you know what you’d bring down on your neck if you touched him?’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Gramps Eisenkopp absently. He was watching the screens. ‘I guess he’ll just have to have a small accident. Say on the way back to Dubrovnik. . . Look at that. Ain’t it a gas? I sure wish someone would give me one of these video sets for Christmas. That’s your guy Donovan comin’ in, right? The buddy that Zorzi hyped and left aboard
Dolly?’
It was Donovan, his once-smooth brow heavily lined, his long thatch blown all over his face; a padded jacket over the gear he had been wearing when last I had seen him, lashed to a bench on the
Dolly.
In one of his hands was an envelope.

Enthralled despite myself, I watched with the rest. I saw Donovan enter the banqueting room. Heard him walk up to Mrs Warr Beckenstaff and holding the envelope out, say, ‘I don’t know how to tell you. We did our best, ma’am. But last night four men boarded the
Dolly,
tied the two of us up, and got away with the nurse and your grandson. We woke this afternoon and got free this evening. I’ve just come straight from the yacht.’

Hugo said, ‘Have you been to the police?’ and Donovan, lifting his head, replied, ‘No, sir. That note addressed to Mrs Warr Beckenstaff was left in the saloon, and I brought it straight here. It’ll be the demand note. It’s her grandson. It’s up to her what she wants done.’ He said again, in a sick voice, ‘I’m mortally sorry, ma’am.’

‘So am I,’ said Ingmar Warr Beckenstaff. Above the Bakst dress with its tassels all the cosmetics on her elegant features stood exposed of a sudden, like wallpaper. She said, ‘You will hear from me later about this. Describe the men. Where was the yacht at the time? In what vehicle was the child removed?’

Her fingernails curved over the letter like mandarin nail-shields. She hadn’t glanced at it yet. Rosamund, after the first silent breath, had risen to stand beside her mother, her hand white on the back of the chair. She said, ‘Never mind that. Open the letter. Open it.’

I looked at Simon, since no one else did. He was smiling. And then I saw that Hugo was watching him also.

Donovan had begun, as well as he could, to answer her questions. Ingmar heard him out without comment, and then taking up a silver knife slit the ransom letter from end to end and drew out the contents.

The demand was for four million dollars: the same demand that the Brownbelly Bruin was to have made, with the same kind of threats. Ingmar was to take a suite at a specified hotel near to Dubrovnik. She would receive a telephone call there next day. There would be three days to pay, since she had to smuggle the money into Yugoslavia.

I was listening to Gibbings’s voice and Rosamund’s clashing in exclamations, followed by the quieter tones of Hugo and Johnson. Beverley said nothing and neither did Simon. They talked amongst themselves for about five minutes and then Ingmar held up her hand and they were all quiet.

She said, ‘We do not inform the police. We pay the ransom.’

Hugo Panadek was looking at her. ‘I have money here. I might help you,’ he said.

The look she gave him was malevolent as the glare of a swan whose nest is threatened. ‘Mr Panadek,’ she said. ‘The Warr Beckenstaff Corporation is a family business. Unless you are of the family, or married to the family, there is no portion of it in which you may claim to have a share.’

Hugo said, ‘What do I do to become one of the family? Marry you, or your daughter?’

It wasn’t Rosamund who moved, but Dr Gibbings who jumped up, knocking over his chair. For a moment, it looked as if he was going to present a fist to Hugo’s inquiring, soft-eyed face. Then he said heavily, ‘You’ve had your chance. Keep out of it,’ and leaving the table, stood with his hands in his pockets.

Beverley said, ‘I feel sick.’ The circle began slowly to break up. A voice at my elbow said, ‘So what’s with the dying baby? You wanted an excuse to get through and see for yourself, Joanna honey? That it?’

Someone had produced
pivo
and his minions were shouting and spraying the workshop with beer but Gramps Eisenkopp was on the ball still. I might have expected it. I said, ‘He is sick. I wanted you to see him.’

Someone brought Gramps a cigar and he lit it and blew the smoke lazily in my face. He said, ‘We can’t do nuthin’ for him. A doctor he will not have. If the old lady pays up quick, he’ll be out in three days and good luck to him. If three days is too much, then it’s curtains. Soon, we’ll be running the country. No one on God’s earth is going to charge me with anythin’ and make it stick. And up till then, baby - no one can find me.’

‘He will die,’ I said. ‘Without help today, he’ll die. Don’t you care?’

‘Sure I care,’ said Comer’s father. ‘I care about people. I care about nations, not one spoiled little bastard who doesn’t know if he’s a hog or a horse yet. Whadda you care about? Nursing kids till you’re ninety because your pa’s slung in the slammer?’

‘I don’t mind nursing kids,’ I said. ‘Anyway, I’ve been vaccinated.’

There was a little silence.

‘Come again?’ said Gramps Eisenkopp.

I didn’t answer. I walked over to where I’d left Benedict, and I lifted his carrycot on the workbench. I took off the cover, and the polythene sheet I had spread under the cover. I unrolled the blankets, and then the towels. As the cold air struck his body, Benedict squirmed and whimpered in his sleep. Feebly, because he was not really awake, and he was very tired.

Benedict is hypersensitive to excessive heat. The long hours of crying had left his face white, but for the black bruises that stood out on his cheek and his arms and his thigh. All the rest of his skin was pinpointed with an angry red thrush.

Grandpa Eisenkopp stared down at him. He said, ‘Kids have measles.’

I made my voice sardonic. ‘I expect you know best.’

Vladimir looked up from his beer. ‘That kid’s got measles? I ain’t had it yet.’

‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘It isn’t measles.’

Eisenkopp stared at me. ‘Now look,’ he said. ‘These kids get vaccinated. Grover and Sukey got vaccinated. How come this kid falls sick?’

I had lain Ben on his side. No one there was going to turn him over. I said, ‘Grover and Sukey got vaccinated by accident against your son’s wishes. You know that’s why Comer isn’t here? He wasn’t vaccinated. He had to go home. The Booker-Readmans had the same theories. I’m immune, but Benedict isn’t.’ I raised my voice. ‘Are all you men vaccinated? If not, you’d better watch out. You’ve been in the same room as a smallpox case for an hour now.’

The tinny voices from the screens over our heads were the only sound then in the silence. Then Eisenkopp said, ‘Prove it. You sound very cheerful to me, for a broad who claims to like caring for kids. If this one gets no help he dies, right?’

‘It’s the same principle as yours,’ I said. ‘You made us all suffer, whether we liked it or not, for what you believe in. This is one weapon you can’t fight. Maybe Benedict will have to foot the bill. But he’ll have a good revenge.’

The voice of Rudi said
‘Smallpox?’

I stared at him. ‘Come and see. I’m not joking. Come over and look. What do you think it is, in the middle of a smallpox epidemic? Maybe you’ll get your money and maybe you’ll get your arms. But they won’t be much good to you, will they?’

They left me alone with Benedict while they talked together. I covered him up before the rash could fade: also because I didn’t want my poor valiant Ben to catch cold.

There was no doubt what the outcome was going to be. The voices of the American branch of the Croatian Liberation Army arguing among itself grew progressively louder and more forceful until finally the group split apart. Two of them began gathering empty boxes and stacking stuff into them. I wondered how Gramps had persuaded the seven of them to keep out of my bed and my kitchen while he masterminded the tape and decoding. Probably by promising them all of everything they could want while they awaited the arms and the money.

It was one of the reasons why I was doing what I was doing. That, and to get either myself or the kidnappers out of the castle while the smallpox barriers were up and Johnson’s men watching the roads. And for the sake of Johnson’s health. To save Benedict, I had presented Johnson’s identity on a platter to his enemies. The least I could do now was try and remove his enemies from their stronghold. The only snag being that Elijah Eisenkopp possessed the Malted Milk Folio. As I watched, he took up the photocopy and the decoded printout from his desk and slid them folded into a manila envelope which he zipped with care into a poacher’s pocket on the inner side of his waterproof jacket. Then taking out a cigarette lighter, he lifted the one remaining photo print I had used and set fire to it. I said, ‘What are you going to do?’

The burning paper lit the bristling eyebrows and the heavy folds between nose and mouth, and the harsh, unshaven set of the jaw. ‘By Christ, I know what I oughtta do,’ said Elijah Eisenkopp. ‘And that’s sling this paper right into that pile of junk over there and let you burn. That’s what they did way back, ain’t it? Burned the rats out, and there warn’t no more plague. I oughtta burn you, baby, for what you done just now; except that we don’t want no alarm till we’re well on our way.’

I said, ‘Where are you going? The roads are still barred.’

‘O.K., they’re barred. But we’ve still got the ambulance,’ Gramps said ‘And we’ve friends, don’t think we haven’t. The old woman there ain’t going to tell the fuzz, and your pa’s going to play right along: he’s said so already. All we have to do is hole up until we hear the weapons have landed and the old lady comes across with the ransom. And then, of course, we’re going to auction this little baby.’ He patted the pocket where the Folio was.