Locke stepped out of the car and was met by a smiling, tanned man with a rifle slung over his shoulder.
“Welcome to Florence, Mr. Locke. We apologize for any inconvenience our precautions may have caused, but I’m afraid I must now also ask you to submit to a search.”
Chris obliged and as the hands ruffled along his body and clothes, he noticed far more precautions had been taken. Stationed on the parapets were a number of armed men. A sandbagged station at each end was occupied by two men and a tripod-held heavy machine gun. The guards were everywhere, including on the roof of the central building and in the bell tower. The Dwarf was prepared to fend off a full-scale attack.
“You approve of my choice of retreat, Mr. Locke?”
The hands holding Chris allowed him to turn round and face the small man behind him.
“I’m happy to be at your service,” the Dwarf pronounced, extending a thick, miniature hand.
Locke took it and found the grasp surprisingly firm. The Dwarf’s features were not twisted or scarred at all. Instead, his face was dominated by a perfectly trimmed mustache and goatee, eyes above it full but somehow tired. He wore gray slacks and a blue sports shirt.
“I’m impressed,” Locke said, glancing around him.
The Dwarf followed his eyes. “This structure was originally built to protect Grand Duke Ferdinand I. I appropriated it recently because it remains a superb defensive fortress. You can’t be too careful these days.”
“Especially with the information you possess.”
The Dwarfs eyes dimmed. “I possess much information, Mr. Locke, and every piece of it brands me someone’s enemy. In my business there are no friends, only associates. No matter. People have never done anything but disdain me. So I turned to art and history. There I found a refuge where size didn’t matter and prejudice never entered in. You should see my villa, Mr. Locke. I make vast sums of money and great portions of it go into the purchase of original art treasures. There are days when I do nothing else but stare at them, trying to appreciate their fantastic beauty. They are timeless and exquisite, a welcome relief from my dealings with men.” The Dwarf took a deep breath. “But you have not come all this way to listen to my ramblings. We shall get out of this hot sun. You look thirsty.”
Locke kept his pace slow to allow the Dwarf to keep up with him. The little man’s legs were turned outward at the knees, and Locke detected a slight grimace with each step. But not a single complaint emerged from his host’s lips. They moved into the cool shade provided by the tent and sat down at a table. The Dwarf’s guards backed off a little but their eyes remained alert.
“What would you like to drink?” the Dwarf asked.
“Anything cold and nonalcoholic.”
“Two iced teas,” the Dwarf called behind him. “Bring a pitcher.” Then his eyes returned to Locke. “You have nothing to fear from my guards. They are here to ward off any assault on the part of the Committee.”
Locke tried to wet his lips, but his tongue was also dry. “You know that’s why I’ve come here.”
“Dogan hinted as much but I wasn’t sure until I saw the fear in your eyes when I mentioned their name. The Committee is quite good at stirring fear in men’s souls, though few live long enough to express it. My compliments in that respect, Mr. Locke.”
Chris shrugged his thanks. “Felderberg believed you’d know much about them. He sent me to you just as he sent my friend Lubeck.”
“And now both of them are dead. An unfortunate legacy.”
“I don’t plan on joining them.”
“And you won’t if I can help it. But first you must highlight for me what you have learned so far.”
When Chris finished, the Dwarf was nodding. “You are to be complimented on your resourcefulness, Mr. Locke, and now I will tell you just what I told your friend. But beware of information. It’s like an anchor. After you have dragged it from the water, it must be carried on your back.”
Strangely, Locke didn’t feel frightened, just more determined. “But the weight can be spread out. Knowledge can balance it.”
The Dwarf looked impressed. “Spoken like a true scholar.”
“A long time ago I used to be a college professor.”
“I know,” said the Dwarf with a slight smile.
A burly man set down a tray containing two glasses and a pitcher misted with ice. He filled both glasses with iced tea, allowing several cubes to slide out and clink together.
“I was never involved with the Committee in a direct sense,” the Dwarf began. “I was one of many middlemen retained by them for a specific purpose, in this case to provide sensitive information pertaining to certain South American leaders.”
“For purposes of blackmail?”
“And assassination. Sooner or later the land deals Felderberg spoke of had to be extended beyond paper transactions into active development. At that point governments would raise questions, present barriers, create inconveniences.” The Dwarf sipped his tea. “Consider, Mr. Locke, that the Committee is trying to achieve in South America what no one has ever dared attempt before: the fullest development of its agricultural resources. But the land is spread out, much of it isolated. To achieve their full goal of production and export, then, a strong central organization was necessary, apart from and above the governments of the individual nations. They needed absolute control.”
“So leaders were replaced.”
“Entire governments were toppled. Check the pattern of communist-terrorist activities in that part of the world. It was too precise, too organized to be random.”
“Organized by the Soviets, most thought.”
“Which is exactly what the Committee wanted people to think. The Soviets were responsible for enough of it to provide the screen, and they deny everything anyway. The Committee has mastered the art of misdirection. That explains how they have survived unnoticed for so long. Much of the unrest in South America was arranged by the Committee to distract attention from what was really going on.”
“And to place puppet leaders in positions where they could manipulate decisions and affect policy.”
“All toward the successful end of the operation you have stumbled upon,” the Dwarf completed. “Exactly, Mr. Locke. I’m impressed with the degree of expertise you’ve gained.”
Chris took several large gulps of his iced tea and reached for the pitcher. “Desperation makes a better teacher than I could ever be.”
The Dwarf leaned forward. “And now we come to the greatest lesson of alclass="underline" What was the Committee to do about North America? Here they were with millions of farmable acres and a means of turning them full of crops almost overnight. Yet the United States presented a seemingly impenetrable obstacle, for how could they possibly hope to compete with the world’s greatest crop producer? A factor was missing.”
“Something to do with the U.S. no doubt.”
“Yes,” the Dwarf acknowledged. “Its economic destruction.”
Chapter 20
The glass of iced tea supped and tilted in Chris’s hand. A pair of ice cubes toppled over the side to the ground below.
“Understand, Mr. Locke,” the Dwarf continued, “I have no proof of this, only speculation. But the evidence exists and it is overwhelming. To begin with, the Committee has been moving its vast deposits from U.S. banks for some time now. The process has been too gradual to stand out, but billions and billions have been either withdrawn or divested from U.S. holdings. Much of the money has shown up in Euro-dollar transfers and in new accounts from England to Switzerland. But more has been used to purchase gold, diamonds, silver, even oil resources, along with tremendous quantities of land all over the world.”