“Really,” I said, “What are they?”
“Nations the world over have to be seen to take a hard line against the illegal trading of drugs. But in reality they’re all guilty of being two faced about the narcotics industry,” he said, adding. “Few law enforcement agencies ever get to arrest those individuals who purchase drugs and then export them to another country. The rules are very simple, Mr Dillon: The first is that you should never sell them in the same country that you buy. Secondly, one should never process in the country where you sell. And the third rule, is to never sell in the country of which you are a citizen.”
Given these rules, my thoughts were with Harry Caplin. Fiona was right, he’d fed me a complete pile of bullshit that night in his cellar. The worse thing about it was that I’d fallen for it all. He wasn’t using the under belly of the cross channel ferry to bring the raw material in. He was exporting pure heroin over to France.
“Personality?”
“He was to my mind an idealist gone sour,” said Flackyard. “To be an idealist in this day and age, it is as well not to be born in America. Men like Caplin go through life acting like criminals, but deceive themselves into believing that they are being persecuted for their ideals.”
“What about Ferdinand?” I asked,
Flackyard smiled. “I’m tempted to say that men like George go through life acting like idealists but find themselves treated like criminals; but it would not be exactly true. George was a patriot, and he fell apart when the one thing he loved more than anything else in the world cast him out of the fold, for one indiscretion. Of course I’m referring to his army career and his subsequent court martial and dishonourable discharge. Anything that he finally became was due to the environment through which he passed. He was neither good nor bad; his misfortunes have always been due to the fact that he was always prepared to listen to the other side of the argument. Not a very grievous fault, I would say.”
I agreed.
Flackyard said, “And now you want to know why I did nothing to stop these two men plying their disgusting trade. That is why you have followed me, or rather followed my boat.”
I nodded.
He said, “My cruiser made extremely good time from England. But you already know that because of your satellite tracking, I’ve no doubt.”
“Unfortunately I knew that a boat of that size would cause a little excitement when it docked, and that’s why I chose Puerto Pollensa. It’s an area used to seeing luxury craft of that size. But I’d not taken in to account having Miss Price hot on my heels.”
Fiona bowed her head.
He said, “I knew that there was a risk of it, but…” He shrugged his shoulders.
“I require the articles in the crates to enable me to fulfil certain obligations.”
“What is it that you really want, Mr Dillon? No, please do not answer. Let me guess what it is, and why you have followed me across Europe — Constantine’s List?”
“Ah, Constantine’s List. Well there’s no denying it Flackyard, a lot of very important people would sleep a whole lot better at night if that list were not in existence. But, I’m not so sure now; perhaps there is a much bigger picture to consider?”
I paused. “You say the cases you had unloaded from your boat will enable you to fulfil certain obligations. what are those obligations, Flackyard?”
I paused while I took out of my jacket pocket a folded sheet of paper.
“Yesterday I sent London a number of images taken of those crates on board your boat. They show them being opened and examined by you and your two associates.” I paused, just long enough to allow a little more tension to build up, and then added.
“I received a reply by email this morning. Let me read you their findings…”
“…no let’s skip to the interesting bit — here we are, says… ‘Image 2 received shows military equipment being examined. These weapons are of the laser-guided tank busting type. However it must be stressed that without further evidence to corroborate this, it can only be speculation, although this is based on an in-depth knowledge of this particular type of weapon. Image 4, an exposed crate with packing material removed. Digitally enlarged by four hundred per cent we find that it is without doubt holding automatic machine pistols and ammunition, and image 5, open case, unconfirmed — packages are similar to those used for transporting plastic explosives’”
I carefully folded the paper, and placed it inside my jacket, taking great care not to let him see the message.
“You come to the point very quickly,” said Flackyard. He smiled a great self-satisfied smile and then added, “The military aspects do not interest me at all. The financial investment represented in those crates however is considerable and involves the type of people who you cannot even begin to imagine. Not even in your wildest dreams. So I congratulate your analysts back in London for spotting the weapons. How careless of my associates and me to leave them on show like that. But no matter how interesting this may all be, your digital photographs can be manipulated and changed, so they are completely inadmissible in any court anywhere. This you both know only too well. I will, needless to say, refute most strenuously through my team of lawyers any insinuation or accusation that I am, or my companies are, involved with illegal drug or arms trading.” He closed his eyes, rotating his neck back and forth, side to side, in an attempt to relieve his tension.
The servant had brought sweet pancakes with almonds and sugar inside.
He placed them in between the three of us, and Flackyard tucked into the plateful. I was wondering how to handle the next part while keeping an eye open for DC Stewart’s exit.
Flackyard leaned towards me. “You’ve come a long way to see me,” he said. Flackyard chewed into a honey cake. “I appreciate that, and I’m duly flattered. I’m given to understand in fact, that your peers, Mr Dillon, hold you in high regard. Well, whether you come here offering good or threatening ill does not change the compliment you pay me. I shall however give you a piece of advice to take back to your superiors: To meddle in my business is an extremely hazardous pastime.” I thought of taking that message back with me. I imagined walking into LJ’s office and saying to him, Flackyard wants you to know that meddling in his business will be extremely bad for your health.
He continued to eat the honey cake, and when he’d finished he dabbed the corners of his mouth with a silk napkin. Looking up, he spoke at both of us.
“It has taken over twenty years to form my connections at the highest level.”
“I’m not talking about the here today, gone tomorrow politicians. They are two a penny, and very easy to bribe. No I’m talking about the real people who matter, and who actually run the British Government. People who are able to influence and manipulate easily, because of who or what they are, people like me who see what is happening to our great country.” His eyes became almost unfocused as he stared in to nowhere.
“By people, you mean other fascists,” Fiona said with rancour.
“The people I’m talking about Miss Price, are those who actually run the country. People with culture and taste, not jumped up trade unionists or rabblerousers. These are men of breeding who have power running through their veins.” Flackyard was looking beyond Fiona in a fixed way. I dared not look round. His sharp, bony fingers were interlocked in front of him and his words were laden with spittle. “You dare to call me a fascist…”
“No,” Fiona said nervously, “I called you nothing of the kind.”
He hadn’t waited for a reply. “Perhaps I am,” he shouted, “perhaps I am a fascist! If you think that people like me are fascists, then I’m proud to be what I am.”
Two servants were hovering at the door. These were twice the size of the scrawny one that had served us the pancakes! I noticed that these were well over six foot seven of toned oiled muscle dressed entirely in black robes.