“I needed a vacation from my five brides.”
“Kind of a dangerous vacation.”
“Everything is relative, Steve. I prefer the chanciness of espionage to the sure death of trying to keep five avid females sexually satisfied over a long period of time. I thought that when I’d made all five pregnant things might slow down. But I was wrong. Their swollen bellies only made them more carnal. And so I fled back to the asexual safety of British Intelligence.”
“Considering that bunch of Colonel Blimps inside, I wonder why you should choose to work for the British at all.”
“They’re not typical of the average Britisher, only of a particular class which is on its way out. They’re dying right off with the death of colonialism. In general, for all their faults, I find the English the most humane and unprejudiced of peoples. Of all the civilizations in the world, theirs is the one, despite its shortcomings, which comes closest to being worthy of admiration and emulation. Besides, I work for them because in their own hedging way, they are trying to free Rhodesia from the grip of its apartheid government.”
“But it isn’t the Rhodesian situation which brings you here.”
“Correct. I’m here for the same reason you are: to trace the connection between S.M.U.T. and Malta Fever.”
“How long have you been on it?” I asked.
“About a week. I’ve been following up the clinic cases, trying to find a common denominator.”
“Any success?”
“I’m not sure.” Lagula drummed his fingers against the rim of his cocktail glass. “But indications seem to point to some of the male patients having contracted it at a particular brothel. I notified London of this two days ago.”
“Which is why they asked my government to send me here,” I told him. “I’m supposed to be an expert on brothels and such.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow night to investigate this one. There’s a private party going on there tonight and it’s closed to the public. Have you any plans for tomorrow during the day?”
“I thought I’d rent a car and take a drive around the countryside. I want to have a look at some Maltese goats. See how they’re milked. That sort of thing.”
“A good idea.” Lagula nodded. “You should try to learn something in that area. It may come in handy later when we’ve got enough pieces to try to put the puzzle together. I’m going to spend tomorrow following up on some more of the clinic cases,” he added. “Hopefully, by evening I’ll have further confirmation of the involvement of the brothel. I’ll pick you up at your hotel about nine. Will that be all right?”
I told him it would, and we parted company then. I drifted back into the casino, went through another stack of chips, decided roulette wasn’t my game, and headed back to my hotel. It was still short of midnight when I hit the sack.
The next morning I got an early start. I splurged and rented a new Porsche, the six-cylinder job with the six carbs, bright red and purring to be let out. But I kept the r’s down as I wended through the streets of Valletta to the outskirts of the city.
Valletta is one of the most picturesque and historically interesting cities in the world. It sits on the side of Mount Sceberras and overlooks the Grand Harbour to the southeast, a U-shaped inlet of deep blue water lying between Ricasoli Point and Fort St. Elmo. The city is named after its founder, the Grand Master de la Valette.
But the history of Valletta, like that of all of Malta, long pre-dates De la Valette and his fabled Knights of Malta. Both city and island chain continue to be a treasure trove of clues for archaeologists seeking the relics of pre-history. Originally, they have concluded, Malta was part of a land-bridge uniting Italy and Africa. The teeth of Neanderthal men have been found in its caves. Bronze Age pottery is continually being unearthed. Other relics from different eras of the dawn of civilization have enabled them to deduce the evolution of humanity on Malta on up to One Thousand B.C., when the first Phoenicians settled there.
In Six B.C., the Carthaginians settled peacefully on Malta with the Phoenicians. Despite the fact that the Maltese fought off Greeks, Romans and Byzantines during the next two thousand years, compared to other cultures theirs was relatively peaceful. In 1090 the Normans conquered Malta, but even this was only a ripple in the generally serene history of the islands. It wasn’t until 1530 when Charles V of Aragon “gave” Malta to the Knights of St. John, thereby establishing Spanish rule, that Malta began its reputation as one of the most violent spots in the world. But even then there was a lapse of twenty years because the Maltese easily accepted the rather light rule of the Order of St. John.
Then, in May, 1565, Soliman II marshalled his army of Mohammedans to march on Christian Europe. His first objective was Malta, and it was to prove his downfall. The Turks launched their attack against St. Elmo in an effort to gain control of the harbor so that they’d have a base for their fleet. An army of 38,500 Turks attacked St. Elmo. It was defended by 1,200 Knights of Malta, all Spaniards or native Maltese with the exception of one Englishman, Oliver Starkey. The incredible happened. The Knights of St. Elmo held out against the cruelest siege in recorded history. Over 7,000 Turks were killed and double that number wounded before St. Elmo finally fell. Every man jack of the 1,200 died in the defense of St. Elmo. But their deaths served a purpose which affected the entire Western world.
After the fall of St. Elmo, Soliman II marshaled his forces to gain control of the mountain overlooking the harbor. He was met by a force of 6,000 under the command of the Grand Master de la Valette. The Turks were weakened by the ordeal of St. Elmo. The defenders were solidly entrenched on the mountain, and in a superior strategical position. The battle raged for weeks. It ended on September 8, when Mustapha, Soliman II’s commander in the field, gathered what was left of his forces aboard his ships and fled the harbor. Malta was saved, and, more important, the Mohammedan invasion of Europe had been stopped before it really got underway.
From then on the Maltese were to rarely know peace. De la Valette built the city which bears his name with an eye toward defending it against invaders. Even today it still stands as the foremost example of fortification in the world. And perhaps that is why from its inception it has challenged one invader after another.
In 1675 it was the British, in 1722 a rebellion by Turkish slaves, in 1798 the French under Napoleon—one of the few who succeeded, not by attack, but by collaboration from the corrupt Maltese government of the day who virtually made him a present of Malta --, in 1799 a revolution against the French which cooperated with a takeover by the English under Admiral Lord Nelson, in the early 1800s a running war between the English and French for control of Malta, and finally, in 1814, a British conquest which was to stand for over a century. This brought relative peace until World War One when Malta was established as Britain’s foremost naval base in the Mediterranean. But it was World War Two which brought the Maltese mettle once again to the attention of an admiring world.
For three years, from 1940 through 1943, Malta withstood a new kind of siege --- an air attack of a frequency and ferocity unmatched in modern warfare. A thousand miles distant from Britain, Malta was stragegically the most important stronghold in the war. It lay right smack between Italy and North Africa, which was then held by German and Italian forces. It was the only spot in the Mediterranean where British warships might refuel. It was the only place the British Navy could launch raids from; it was the only harbor available to merchant ships en route to the Suez Canal to supply Allied forces in North Africa. And it was the only place from which the Royal Air Force could launch bombing raids against Italy and North Africa.