Charlie Muffin U.S.A.

22

This was the first time that Charlie had seen the organising committee in a formally assembled group. There were eight men in the room. The senator sat in the middle, as the chairman. He was white-faced from what Charlie presumed was the anger Heppert had spoken about, but appeared tightly controlled. Open annoyance from a politician would be unseemly, Charlie supposed.

He looked around, expecting Heppert to have followed him in, but the man had stayed in the foyer, near the closed entrance to the exhibition. Pendlebury wasn’t around either.

‘Sorry for the delay,’ said Charlie brightly. ‘Telephone call I wasn’t expecting.’

‘It was discourteous,’ said Cosgrove.

‘But unavoidable, I’m afraid,’ said Charlie. He saw the senator’s body stiffen at his attitude. In the army Charlie had been able to make sergeants almost apoplectic by holding himself before officers just short of stiff-backed attention but yet not sufficiently insubordinate to be put on a charge.

‘We’ve called you here,’ began Cosgrove officiously, speaking with occasional glances at some papers before him, on which Charlie assumed he had written notes, ‘to demand from you, as the representative of the British insurers, the reinstatement of full cover for this exhibition.’

‘I told you earlier today that I would have to get London’s authority for any such action,’ said Charlie.

‘And I told you I was having my lawyers examine the legality of what you have done. Their opinion is that the withdrawal of cover for the reasons you’ve stated are utterly specious and would not be supported in any court of law, either in this country or England. If you continue to refuse, then I shall tomorrow issue in London a writ against your company in particular and the syndicate as a whole, alleging breach of contract. I shall also officially complain to whatever professionl governing body covers the activities of your company.’

‘The lawyers responded quickly,’ said Charlie, ignoring the threat.

‘They were told to,’ said Cosgrove, his voice that of someone used to having his orders obeyed unquestionably.

‘When?’ demanded Charlie.

‘When?’ Cosgrove looked across the table at him, frowning at Charlie’s question.

‘When exactly did you receive this advice from your lawyers? The timing might be a legal issue.’

Cosgrove smiled, glancing needlessly at his watch.

‘Six-thirty this evening, precisely,’ he said.

‘It’s been recorded?’ insisted Charlie.

‘There seemed little point,’ said Cosgrove with growing curiosity. ‘But this committee will support that time, I’m sure.’

From either side of the table there were immediate nods and movements of assent.

‘Good,’ said Charlie, ‘I’ll accept that guarantee.’

‘And reintroduce cover?’ said Cosgrove expectantly.

‘No,’ said Charlie.

Cosgrove had been turning away, smiling his satisfaction at the imagined victory to the others at the table. He swung around to Charlie, his annoyance flooding back.

‘Now see here…’ he started.

‘This meeting was a little premature,’ interposed Charlie, so that Cosgrove remained with his mouth half open. ‘I am quite happy to continue it as an open discussion, but I would suggest to you, senator, that it might be better if we had a private conversation.’

The change in Cosgrove’s demeanour, from anger to caution, was almost discernible.

‘I see no point…’ began Cosgrove, spreading his arms to include the men either side of him.

‘You will,’ predicted Charlie. ‘But I repeat, the choice is yours.’

Cosgrove looked rapidly at the rest of the committee, then back to Charlie, who stood quite relaxed, wondering how the man would find a way out.

‘Might it speed the settlement of this problem?’ Cosgrove demanded.

Charlie nodded at the man, admiringly. ‘It might,’ he said.

Cosgrove went back to the other men, shrugging the shrug of a man prepared to carry burdens for the rest of them. There was a moment of uncertainty as first Cosgrove, then those around him, stood.

‘Perhaps your rooms, senator?’ suggested Charlie.

Cosgrove hesitated, then nodded his acceptance, striding from the room ahead of Charlie, having no intention of being associated with the man, even walking across a hotel foyer. Charlie walked slowly behind, taking his time so that Cosgrove had to hold the lift doors until he arrived.

‘This had better be worthwhile,’ threatened Cosgrove, as the doors closed and the lift moved upwards.

‘Yes,’ agreed Charlie. ‘It had better be, hadn’t it?’

‘I intend making the strongest possible complaint to your company. Rupert Willoughby is known to us, you know.’

‘Yes,’ said Charlie, ‘I believe he might even regard you as a friend.’

He had little justification for sarcasm like that, thought Charlie. When the lift halted, Cosgrove strode ahead again, thrusting himself into the suite and then wheeling in the middle of the sitting room, legs astride and hands imperiously on his hips.

‘Well!’ he demanded.

Charlie carefully closed the door and went unhurriedly into the room, so that Cosgrove had to remain waiting in his exaggerated posture.

‘Even at the risk of legal action, I do not intend restoring insurance protection to this exhibition,’ declared Charlie. ‘I have very good reason to believe that a robbery is to take place with the knowledge of some people closely involved in the organisation of the exhibition. In any court of law you choose to enter, I am prepared to put forward the grounds for that belief and, contrary to the views which your lawyers have expressed, I’m confident our withdrawal would not only be supported but vindicated.’

Charlie was sure that Cosgrove would never call his bluff. The American had no way of knowing that the chance of being identified made it impossible for Charlie ever to enter any court.

Cosgrove became aware that his stance made him look slightly ridiculous. He took his arms away from his sides and put his legs together.

‘Those are strong allegations,’ he said inadequately.

Much of the earlier bombast was leaking away, Charlie realised. ‘They are,’ he agreed, ‘reached after a great deal of enquiry, during which I’ve discovered some very disturbing things.’

Charlie thought that Cosgrove’s concern was sufficient for him to demand to know what they were. Instead, trying to recover his composure, the politician attempted to respond in the way he imagined would be expected of him.

‘Well… we…’ groped the man, ‘we’d better do something about it. Pendlebury…’

‘Wouldn’t be a great help, would he?’ cut in Charlie, wanting to keep the other man off balance.

‘What do you mean?’ challenged Cosgrove.

‘I mean that I do not think that Mr Pendlebury is the proper person to whom this information should be passed on.’

‘Are you alleging something against the man?’

‘Think carefully on what I’ve said,’ Charlie encouraged him. ‘I’ve made no allegations against anyone that could be questioned in a court. What’s the celebration you’re planning tomorrow, senator?’

Cosgrove took the question like a man emerging from an over-hot sauna having cold water thrown in his face. He actually gasped, then snapped his mouth shut.

‘Celebration?’ he echoed, trying to gain time. ‘The restoration of cover…’

‘Six-thirty tonight,’ Charlie reminded him. ‘We established the time of the lawyers’ call in the committee room. You were making arrangements with the banqueting manager this afternoon, long before that call. I checked, purporting to be your aide. I’d have hardly thought a restoration of insurance justified champagne and a gathering of at least a hundred… that seems to be the number for which the man is catering…’

Cosgrove drew himself up, aware of his mistake and annoyed at its discovery.

‘You’ve no right to put such questions to me,’ he said, striving again for his customary arrogance.

‘You’re quite correct, sir,’ said Charlie, the courtesy introduced purposely to stress what he was to say. ‘Perhaps we should leave that to whatever court will subsequently examine anything that might happen here.’

Another expression began to settle on Cosgrove’s face, and Charlie recognised it from the previous occasions in which he had dealt with politicians who found themselves in difficulty. Cosgrove was responding as he had anticipated; it was invariably the way with ambitious men.

‘What do you intend doing?’ Cosgrove straightened and there was more control in his voice.

‘Continue to suspend cover,’ said Charlie. ‘And then summon the police. Not that I expect they will react as I hope, but for any further enquiry which might be held into what happens…’

‘Sure that’s altogether wise?’ asked Cosgrove.

Unexpectedly he smiled, and Charlie thought the expression was like that of a man practising physiotherapy exercises after facial paralysis. ‘I think so,’ he said.

‘What do you think is the purpose of all this?’ said Cosgrove.

There was always the pretence of being taken into confidence before the offer was made, remembered Charlie.

‘The F.B.I. entrapment of a known Mafia associate named Giuseppe Terrilli,’ said Charlie simply.

The face exercise smile came again. ‘You’re very astute,’ Cosgrove congratulated him.

‘And therefore worried that something for which I’m responsible is going to be used as bait. Which is why I must protect it.’

‘ Nothing can happen,’ said Cosgrove, utilising the full depths of his politician’s sincerity. ‘I give you my word. ’

‘It’s an impossible guarantee,’ said Charlie, ‘and one which no one in the syndicate I represent would consider.’

Cosgrove moved from his position in the middle of the room. His suite was on a corner, so there was a panoramic view from two sides of the room. He moved towards the ocean view, not looking at Charlie as he spoke.

‘I am a man of considerable influence in Washington,’ he said.

‘I know.’

‘And because of what is to happen, I expect to increase that influence.’

‘Yes, I suppose you do,’ said Charlie.

‘What if I call the British Embassy and through them make an official request to the British government for co-operation?’ suggested Cosgrove, suddenly turning back into the room.

It would bring to Florida at least ten people from the department which wanted him dead, Charlie realised immediately. He was sure he kept the anxiety from his face.

‘You haven’t time, have you?’ he said.

‘Reintroduce cover and I’ll guarantee their agreement by this time tomorrow.’

Charlie disguised the sigh at the other man’s desperation. Cosgrove had been a poor choice for a front man.

‘That’s not an undertaking you can give,’ he said. ‘And you certainly couldn’t expect it to be made retroactive; by the time you were seeking agreement from London, the whole damned exhibition could have been destroyed.’

There was the slightest indication of anger from Cosgrove at having his proposal exposed so immediately for its stupidity, but he curbed it.

‘How much?’ said Cosgrove.

Charlie smiled at the predictable demand. ‘For what?’

‘Restoring insurance. And not involving the local police.’

So the Palm Beach and neighbouring forces weren’t involved. Charlie wondered if Cosgrove would ever be aware of what he was disclosing.

‘I don’t think this conversation is going to achieve a great deal, Senator Cosgrove,’ said Charlie. After the other man’s posturing over the past weeks, Charlie enjoyed the arrogance.

‘A hundred thousand?’ pressed Cosgrove.

‘I’ll not take a bribe,’ insisted Charlie.

‘Two hundred?’

‘Stop demeaning yourself,’ said Charlie irritably.

Cosgrove pulled up short again. ‘An honourable man!’ he sneered.

‘I suppose so,’ said Charlie. According to his own rules, that was.

‘You’ll do a deal,’ said Cosgrove, suddenly confident.

‘I’ve told you…’

‘Shut up,’ said the white-haired man. ‘In return for your re-establishing cover and not involving the local police, I’m prepared to save your life.’

‘Save my life!’

‘You might have worked out the robbery,’ said Cosgrove. ‘But sure as hell you haven’t realised that there’s to be a second indictment against Terrilli. And it’s going to be your murder.’

The politician smiled again. This time it was a satisfied expression.

‘A deal?’ he said.

Charlie hesitated. The need to survive had always been stronger in him than any tenacity or vindictiveness. It was time to modify his rules.

‘A deal,’ agreed Charlie. ‘What do they intend doing?’

Cosgrove shook his head, control resumed. ‘The undertaking in the committee room first. Then we’ll talk about the killing…’ He smiled, enjoying the qualification ‘… your killing.’

He’d lost, conceded Charlie, following the other man from the room. He didn’t like losing.

Saxby and Boella arrived first. They parked their car alongside the marked station waggon that Chambine had already placed in position, near the windows to the exhibition room. They entered the hotel in a leisurely manner and strolled into the Alcazar.

Saxby ordered while his companion looked around the bar.

‘We’ve time to eat,’ said Boella.

‘Why not?’ said Saxby, unaware of the handover of surveillance from those who had followed them from Orlando to the men who had been moved ahead of their arrival, from Lantana.

Pendlebury had taken a second set of rooms in the hotel as his control centre for the operation. He’d monitored the approach of the two men now ten floors below in the bar and om the map before him had marked the route of the four that were following, travelling through an avenue of observers.

In the corner, but with an operator constantly before it to check adjustments, was a closed-circuit television. It was linked to two cameras that had been installed after the exhibition closed that night, of which Chambine’s men would be unaware as they worked. Uncovered, the cameras would provide an identifiable record to link the thieves later with Terrilli.

Pendlebury had had his back to the television for the past five minutes, frowning at Gilbert’s report of the Englishman’s meeting with Senator Cosgrove.

‘I don’t like it,’ he confessed to Gilbert. ‘I always felt that bloody politician was the weak link.’

As he spoke there was a knock at the door, and one of Gilbert’s squad came in.

‘It’s Senator Cosgrove,’ he reported, ‘and the Englishman.’