‘Too late in the day to talk about pious, hypocritical platitudes, I
suppose. How did you get them – those nuclear devices?’
‘You heard. NATO. West Germany. Specifically, US bases.’
‘I heard that. I didn’t ask where. I asked how.’ Van Effen looked away
for a moment, then back at Agnelli. ‘I know. The RAF. The Red Army
Faction.’
‘Yes. I would have told you but since you’ve guessed it or know – yes.’
‘Jesus! The holy father upstairs must really have the original, twisted,
double-dyed, infinite-stretch elastic conscience. The RAF! And only last
night, according to the papers -correct me if I’m wrong – he was telling
Wieringa, the Defence Minister, that the RAF were the inheritors of the
bloody mantle of the Baader-Meinbof gangsters of the early seventies. The
fact that his own hands are stained a bright red doesn’t appear to worry
the Reverend at all. God, I should have thought of this right away. It’s
only a couple of weeks since there was this successful
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break-in at a US army ammunition depot outside Hanover. The RAF claimed
responsibility and their claim was generally accepted: the RAF is rather
good at this and the Americans rather poor at guarding their
installations. No mention of nucl
lear devices. It would have been in character for the RAF to have made
specific mention of this: one supposes that they did but that the US Army,
or the army through the government, put a stop order on this. Anti-nuclear
sentiment is high enough already in Germany without the added knowledge
that there’s a bunch of woolly-headed hare-brained young terrorists on the
loose with nuclear weapons in their suitcases.’
‘No prizes for your guesses, Mr Danilov. Had to be that way. And it was.’
‘Your information, of course, comes from the same source as the nuclear
devices.’
‘Where else?’
‘Joachim and joop. And the two other baby-faced choirboys who were here
when we arrived this afternoon.’
‘Who else?’
‘The leisure-time terrorists, as the West Germans call them -nights and
weekends only. Since the egregious Christian Klar was captured – along with
two lady friends, Mohnhaupt and Schultz I think they were called – and
charged with the murders of diverse politicians, prosecutors, bankers and
industrialists, the RAF have pulled in their horns and are reported to have
moved into neighbouring countries. I suppose Holland was the natural, the
inevitable first choice. Should be like a second home to them.’Van Effen
thought briefly then smiled. ‘On the one hand the RAF, on the other your
blackmailing demands on the Dutch Government. Don’t you find it rather a
splendid thought, Mr Agnelli, that the Dutch Government are going to pay
the RAF for nuclear devices to be used against the Dutch people?’
Agnelli didn’t have the opportunity to say whether he did or not for the
call-up buzzer on the RCA rang at that moment. He lifted the handset, spoke
an acknowledgement, then said: ‘Mr Samuelson, for you.’
Samuelson came and took the handset, listened, said: ‘Thank
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you, Helmut, thank you very much,’hung up and looked at his watch. ‘Four
minutes. I’m going to my room, Romero, but will be down for dinner. So
will Mr Riordan. There’ll be a news flash on TV in four minutes. Please
don’t miss it.’On his way to the stairs, he stopped by Annemarie’s table.
‘I am sorry, Miss Meijer.’ No’my dear’, no’Anne’. ‘I did not know.’
When the news flash came, interrupting some appropriately lugubrious
offering from Handel by the Concertgebouw, it was very much what van
Effen expected. ‘The now notorious terrorist -group, the FFF,’ the
newscaster read, ‘have announced that, for reasons they do not wish to
discuss, the demand for twepty million guilders from Mr David Meijer has
been withdrawn, effective as from now. Miss Anne Meijer will be released
and returned to her father as soon as is conveniently possible. The sum
now asked from the Government has been correspondingly increased to a
hundred and twenty million guilders.’
Apart from a slow shake of the head, which could have meant anything but
probably indicated a total lack of understanding, Annemarie did not react
at all. Julie smiled in delight and hugged her. George clapped a hand on
van Effen’s knee and said: ‘Well, now, my friend, what do you think of
that?’
‘Splendid,’ van Effen said. ‘Quite splendid. Bit unfair on policemen’s
sisters, though. They should have let her go as well.’
‘I must admit,’ van Effen said, ‘that it does make it a bit more difficult
to kill him, should that unfortunate need arise. If, of course, our friend
Samuelson was moved solely by humanitarian principles. One must not
misjudge the man. Perhaps he recalled the days when he used to say his
prayers at his mother’s knees and his heart was touched. Equally well, he
may be an even more calculating villain than we’ve given him credit for.’
‘I can’t see how you can possibly say that,’ Vasco said. They were pacing
to and fro on the front porch. It was bitterly cold, now, and the wind
of gale force dimensions. Yhey had a certain degree of privacy out there
– it had been impossible to conduct a private conversation inside – but
only a certaiLn degree. There
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was a loft over the garage, approached, as was the custom in that area,
by an external stairway. Earlier on they had seen one man go up those
stairs and another come down: almost certainly a change of watchman who
would have taken position behind the loft window. There were probably
others similarly stationed in the other barn and in the windmill itself.
Whether the purpose was to keep insiders from going out or outsiders from
coming in, it was impossible to say. All that could be said was that it
was done with great discretion. Civilian staff were employed in the
windmill and even the hint of the maintenance of a guard -almost certainly
an armed guard – would have done much to destroy the credibility of the
Golden Gate Film Productions.
‘I not only say that he may be an exceedingly cunning villain,’ van Effen
said. ‘I believe it. Sure it was moving, touching, heartrending even, a
fundamentally decent man overwhelmed by his own decency. You noticed the
terms of the communiqu6. Miss Anne Meijer will be released as soon as
conveniently possible. For conveniently possible read inconveniently im-
possible. People will know that the poor man is trying desperately to
return Annemarie to the bosom of her family but finds it impossible to
do without jeopardizing his own plans and safety. But he has made the
offer. Mr David Meijer, who has not, I assume, accumulated his millions
or billions or whatever without having some faint glimmer of intelligence
somewhere, will know exactly what the score is and that his daughter is
as much a pawn as ever and that he can still be counted on to do the
right thing – as far as Samuelson is concerned – about bringing his
influence to bear on whatever the government’s decision may be. The
government whose decision matters, of course, is the British one. He
can’t influence that. But he can influence the Dutch Government to
influence the British one, which is just about as useful from Samuelson’s
viewpoint.
‘And think what would have happened had David Meijer died while his
daughter was still in the FFF’s custody. Unlikely, but that’s not the
point. People range from the softheaded to the incurably romantic. The
“died-of-a-brokenheart” syndrome has always had a powerful following.
Sure, people do die of a broken heart but it’s over the months and the
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years and not overnight. No matter. If he had died the public reaction to
Samuelson and the FFF would have been one of total revulsion and
rejection. Attitudes -would harden, resistance stiffen, and the average
man in the street would say: “The hell with this cold, ruthless, murderous
monster. -Never give in to him, never. Let him do his worst and see if we
care.” That, I should imagine, is the last thing that Samuelson and
company want.
‘Going back to that communiqu6. Notice the noble, dignified and selfless
fashion in which he refused to give the reasons for his decisions. I
didn’t know that David Meijer had a heart condition but for all I know
it may be common knowledge. If it’s not, I’ll take long odds that it soon
will be. Helmut Paderiwski, whom Samuelson calls our voice in Amsterdam,
will make good and sure of &.at and that his voice will be heard. Radio
and newspapers will be anonymously and discreetly told that David Meijer
has a severe heart condition – the truth of that can soon be established
– and hints dropped that his gallant hostage daughter had been pleading
for his life. For the newspapers, it’s a natural, a human-angle story to
tug at the very heart strings. Suitably dressed up in the usual sickening