“Sit down! How much of this drivel do you think I’m going to stand—” The growl stopped. Then the powerful voice said impatiently, “Yes, Abel. What is it?”
There was a long silence.
“The sweet sotto voce of reason,” murmured Ellery. “Or Abel’s passed him a note.”
They heard King Bendigo laugh again. This time the voice said smoothly, “Forgive me for losing my temper, Señor. Believe me, I respect the position of your government even though it is hostile to our interests. But there are no viewpoints — no matter how opposing, Mr. Minister — which can’t be reconciled.”
“Impossible!” The angry voice registered several decibels fewer.
“To establish a private cordiality, Mr. Minister? Known, let us say, only to us and to you?”
“There is nothing more to be said!” But now it was merely fuming.
“Well, Abel, it looks as though we’re in for a licking.”
Abel murmured something; the words did not come through.
“Unless, Mr. Minister, you don’t quite see how... Let me ask you: Did your predecessor in the War Ministry manage to salvage his yacht in the revolution, Señor?”
“She saved the traitor’s life,” said the foreign voice stiffly. “He made his escape in her.”
“Oh, yes. You must have admired her, Señor — your enthusiasm for pleasure craft is well known. And she’s one hundred and twenty feet of sheer poetry, as my brother Judah would say. Did say.”
“She was beautiful.” The War Minister spoke in the wistful, bitter way of the lover who has lost. “Had the swine not got to her in time... But I presume on your schedule Señor King—”
“Her sister is yours.”
There was a silence.
“She’s identical in every respect, Mr. Minister, except that her designer tells me she’s even faster. And speed in a ship is a quality not to be despised, Señor, as your predecessor discovered. Who knows? The politics of your country tend to be somewhat unstable—”
“Señor, you bribe me!” the Minister of War replied indignantly. But it was not as if he were really surprised. His tone had a flinch in it. “I thank you for your gift, Señor King Bendigo, but I repudiate it with scorn. Now I wish to leave.”
“Good boy,” breathed the Inspector. “He made it.”
“After a bit of a tussle,” grinned Ellery. “Ah, there’s Abel calling time again. Conference in the box. Do they pitch to the Señor or pass him?”
“Here it comes!”
“Gift?” came the dark, rich voice. “Who said anything about a gift, Mr. Minister? I had something quite legal in mind.”
“Legal...?”
“I’m offering her for sale.”
The harassed man laughed. “At a discount of five per cent, perhaps, because we are such cordial friends, Señor? This is absurdity. I am not a wealthy man—”
“I’m sure you can afford this, Mr. Minister.”
“I am sure I cannot!”
“Don’t you have twenty-five dollars?”
There was a very long silence indeed.
“Struck him out,” said the Inspector.
“I believe, Señor Bendigo,” said the foreign voice, and for the first time it was without heat or distress, “that would make a bargain I could not afford to ignore. I shall purchase your yacht for twenty-five dollars.”
“Our agent will call on you in Ciudad Zuma next Friday, Mr. Minister, with the bill of sale and the other documents necessary for your signature. Needless to say, the other documents are equally important to the transfer of title.”
“Needless to say.” The foreign voice stopped for an instant, then went on amiably: “Love of the sea is in the blood of my family. I have a son in the Naval Ministry, Señor Bendigo, who is also an ardent yachtsman. There will be no difficulty about the other documents, none whatever, if you will sell me also the eighty-foot Atalanta IV, which has only recently, I believe, come off your ways. Possession of such a prize would make my son Cristoforo a happy young man. At the same purchase price, of course.”
“You have a nose for bargains, Mr. Minister,” said King Bendigo gently.
“I also keep them, my friend.”
“Take care of it, Abel.”
After a moment, they heard a door open and close.
“And I mean a nose,” came King Bendigo’s growl. “How good an investment is that sucker, Abel?”
“He’s the intellectual strong man of the Zuma régime.”
“He’d better stay that way! Who’s next?”
“The E-16 matter.”
“The mouth-twitcher? I thought that was settled, Abel.”
“It isn’t?
“The trouble with the world today is that it has too many little crooks running it under the delusion that they’re big crooks! All they do is shoot the cost of history higher — they don’t change the result a damn. Send him in.”
There was a lull, and Ellery mumbled, “In big stuff they send ’em in direct. I wonder if there’s another elevator to H.R.H.’s office. Bet there is.”
“Shut up!” said his father, straining.
King Bendigo was saying heartily, “Entrez, Monsieur.”
A buttered voice said something in rapid French, but then, with a foreign accent that was not French and was spread with irony, added in English: “Let us dispense with the amenities. What do you want?”
“The signed contracts, Monsieur.”
“I do not have them.”
“You promised to have them.”
“That was before you raised your prices, Monsieur Bendigo. I hold the folio of Defence in my country, not of clairvoyance.”
“Is this your personal decision?” They heard a drumming sound.
“No. Of the entire Cabinet.”
“Are you slipping, Monsieur le Ministre?”
“I have been unable to persuade my colleagues.”
“You evidently used the wrong arguments.”
“You did not provide me with the right ones. Your prices are so high that they would wreck the budget. New taxes are out of the question—”
The rich voice was frigid. “This is an annoyance. What of your word?”
The buttery voice slipped. “I must repudiate it. I have no choice. It is too risky. A contract with Bodigen Arms at such a price might unseat us. The Actionist Party—”
“Let’s be realistic, Mr. Minister,” said King Bendigo’s voice suddenly. “We know the influence you exert in the power group of your country. We admit the risks. What is your price to take them?”
“I wish to terminate this conversation. Please have me flown back.”
“Damn it all—”
Abel’s voice said something. “What, Abel?”
The brothers played another counterpoint in murmurs. Then the big voice laughed.
“Of course. But before you go, Mr. Minister, may I examine that stickpin you’re wearing?”