The short, dark-haired man nodded, and they both accompanied Pedersson as he led them across the yard.
“You responded most quickly to the UN’s sudden change of heart, Mr. Riffat.”
“Yes, our leader had given orders that the safe should be delivered to Baghdad the moment the embargo was lifted.”
Pedersson laughed again. “I fear that may not be so easy,” he said once they reached the other side of the yard. “Madame Bertha was not built for speed, as you are about to discover.”
The three men continued to walk towards a large, apparently derelict building, and Pedersson strode through an opening where there must once have been a door. It was so dark inside that the two foreigners were unable to see more than a few feet in front of them. Pedersson switched on a single light, which was followed by what sounded like the sigh of an unrequited lover.
“Mr. Riffat, Mr. Bernstrom, allow me to introduce you to Madame Bertha.” The two men stared at the massive structure that stood majestically in the middle of the old warehouse floor.
“Before I make a formal introduction,” Pedersson continued, “first let me tell you Madame Bertha’s vital statistics. She is nine feet tall, seven feet wide and eight feet deep. She is also thicker-skinned than any politician, about six inches of solid steel to be precise, and she weighs over five tons. She was built by a specialist designer, three craftsmen and eight engineers. Her gestation from conception to delivery was eighteen months. But then,” he whispered, “to be fair, she is almost the size of an elephant. I lower my voice only because she can hear every word I say, and I have no wish to offend her.”
Mr. Pedersson did not see the puzzled looks that came over the faces of his two visitors. “But, gentlemen, you have only seen her exterior, and I can promise you that what she has to offer is more than skin deep.
“First, I must tell you that Madame Bertha will not allow anyone to enter her without a personal introduction. She is, gentlemen, not a promiscuous lady, despite what you may have been told about the Swedes. She requires to know three things about you before she will consider revealing her innermost parts.”
Although the two guests remained puzzled as to what he meant, they did not interrupt Mr. Pedersson’s steady flow.
“And so, gentlemen, to begin with you must study Bertha’s chest. You will observe three red lights above three small dials. By knowing the six-number code on all three dials, you will be able to turn one of the lights from red to green. Allow me to demonstrate. First number to the right, second to the left, third to the right, fourth to the left, fifth to the right, sixth to the left. The first number for the first dial is zero, the second is four, the third is two, the fourth eight, the fifth three and the sixth seven. Zero-four-two-eight-three-seven.”
“The date of Sayedi’s birthday,” said the tall, fair-haired visitor.
“Yes, I worked that one out, Mr. Bernstrom,” said Pedersson. “The second,” he said, turning his attention to the middle dial, “is zero-seven-one-six-seven-nine.” He turned the final number to the left.
“The day Sayedi became President.”
“We also managed that one, Mr. Riffat. But I confess the third sequence fooled us completely. No doubt you will know what our client has planned for that particular day.” Mr. Pedersson began twirling the third diaclass="underline" zero-seven-zero-four-nine-three.
Pedersson looked hopefully towards Mr. Bernstrom, who shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve no idea,” he lied.
“You will now note, gentlemen, that after entering the correct figures on all three dials, only one of Madame Bertha’s lights has turned green, while two still remain obstinately red. But now that you have discovered her three codes, she will consider a more personal relationship. You will observe that below the three dials there is painted a small white square about the size of your hand. Watch carefully.” Pedersson took a pace forward and placed his right hand firmly on the white square. He left it there for several seconds, until the second light turned green.
“Even when she knows your palm print, she still won’t open her heart. Not until I have spoken to her. If you look even more closely, gentlemen, you will see that the white square conceals a thin wire mesh, which houses a voice activator.” Both men stepped forward to look.
“At the present time, Bertha is programmed to react only to my vocal cords. It doesn’t matter what I say, because as soon as she recognizes the voice, the third light will turn green. But she will not even consider listening to me unless the first two lights are already green.”
Pedersson stepped forward and placed his lips opposite the wire mesh. “Two gentlemen have come from America to see you, and desire to know what you look like inside.”
Even before he had finished the sentence, the third red light had flicked to green, and a noisy unclamping sound could be heard.
“Now, gentlemen, we come to the part of the demonstration of which my company is particularly proud. The door, which weighs over a ton, is nevertheless capable of being opened by a small child. Our company has developed a system of phosphor-bronze bearings that are a decade ahead of their time. Please, Mr. Riffat, why don’t you try for yourself?”
The shorter man stepped forward, gripped the handle of the safe firmly and pulled. All three lights immediately turned red, and a noisy clamping sound began again.
Pedersson chuckled. “You see, Mr. Riffat, unless Madame Bertha knows you personally, she clams up and sends you back to the red-light district.” He laughed at a joke his guests suspected he had told many times before. “The hand that opens the safe,” he continued, “must be the same one that passed the palm-print test. A good safety device, I think you’ll agree.” Both men nodded in admiration as Pedersson quickly fiddled with the three dials, placed his hand on the square and then spoke to Madame Bertha. One by one the three lights dutifully turned from red to green.
“She is now prepared to let me, and me alone, open her up. So watch carefully. Although, as I said, the door weighs a ton, it can be opened with the gentlest persuasion, thus.”
Pedersson pulled back the ton of massive steel with no more exertion than he would have used to open the front door of his home. He jumped inside the safe and began walking around, first with his arms outstretched to show that he could not touch the sides while standing in the center, and then with his hands above his head, showing he was unable to reach the roof. “Do please enter, gentlemen,” he cried from inside.
The two men stepped up gingerly to join him.
“In this case, three is not a crowd,” said Pedersson, laughing again. “And you will be happy to discover that it is impossible for me to get myself locked in.” He gripped the handle on the inside of the safe and pulled the great door shut.
Two of the occupants did not find this part of the experiment quite so appealing.
“You see, gentlemen,” continued Pedersson, who could not hide the satisfaction in his voice, “Bertha cannot lock herself again unless it is my hand on the outside handle.” With one small push, the door swung open and Pedersson stepped out, closely followed by his two customers.
“I once had to spend an evening inside her before the system was perfected — a sort of one-night stand, you might call it,” said Pedersson. He laughed even louder as he pushed the door back in place. The three lights immediately flashed to red and the clamps noisily closed in place.
He turned to face them. “So, gentlemen, you have been introduced to Madame Bertha. Now, if you would be kind enough to accompany me back to my office, I will present you with a delivery note and, more important, Bertha’s bible.”
As they returned across the yard, Pedersson explained to his two visitors that the book of instructions had been treated by the company as top secret. They had produced one in Swedish, which the company retained in its own safe, and another in Arabic, which Pedersson said he would be happy to hand over to them.