I was out of the smoke now and I could just see the door of the Volkswagen van. The arm shoved me towards it. I almost fell inside. Fischer was already there, hawking and coughing. More grenades were exploding on the bridge above as Miller scrambled in after me. Then there was a sound of running feet and the men in the respirators piled in. Someone pressed the starter. A moment later the van was on the move. I was crouched on the floor against one of the empty packing cases and somebody was treading on my feet. The stink of tear gas was everywhere. I heard Harper’s voice from the front passenger seat.
“Everything okay, Leo?”
Miller was coughing and chuckling at the same time. “The dogs have fed and clothed themselves,” he wheezed.
11
There were five men besides Harper in the respirators, but my eyes were still so painful that I didn’t see any of their faces well enough to be able to identify them. One of them was named Franz and he spoke German as well as Turkish. I know, because I heard him use both languages-the German to Fischer. The other four only spoke Turkish, I think. I can’t be certain, because I was only with them a few minutes, and I was coughing most of the time.
The van must have gone about three miles when it slowed down, made a wide U turn, and stopped.
Harper opened the door from the outside.
Miller was nearest the door and he got out first. I followed, with Fischer behind me. The other men just moved enough to make way for us. Then Harper shut the door again and the van was driven off.
“This way,” Harper said.
We were opposite one of the big woodyards by an unloading pier and some beached caiques. He led the way along the pier. I was beginning to see well enough again now to recognize Giulio standing up in the Bulut’ s outboard dinghy. We climbed down into it. I heard Giulio asking who I was and being told that he would find out later. Then the motor started, and we shot away from the pier.
The Bulut was anchored a quarter of a mile away, and a man on deck, Enrico presumably, was at the small gangway waiting to help us on board. I followed the others to the saloon.
By the time I reached the bottom of the narrow companionway that led down to it, Harper was already untying the drawstring of Miller’s velvet bag, while the others crowded round to look. I saw the glitter of dozens of green and red stones and I heard Giulio draw in his breath. The stones didn’t look all that large to me; but, of course, I am no judge of such things.
Harper was grinning his head off. “Nothing but the best, Leo,” he said. “You’re a great man.”
“How much?” said Fischer.
“Better than a million and a half,” Harper replied. “Let’s be on our way as soon as we can, Giulio.”
“Pronto.”
Giulio brushed past me and went up the companionway. There were sandwiches and drinks set out at the other end of the table. While they drooled over the stones, I poured myself a large whisky.
Harper looked across at me. “Aren’t you interested in the loot, Arthur?”
I had a sudden desire to hit him. I shrugged indifferently. “I’m not interested in counting chickens,” I said. “I’ll settle for two thousand dollars, cash on the barrel.”
They all stared at me in silence for a moment. The deck began to vibrate as the boat’s diesels started up.
Harper glanced at Miller. “I take it Arthur behaved himself this evening.”
“He was a damned nuisance,” Fischer said spitefully.
Harper ignored him. “Well, Leo?”
“He was afraid,” Miller answered; “but what he did was enough. Under the circumstances I think he did well.”
Harper looked at me again. “Why the cracks, Arthur? What’s the problem?”
“How do you imagine you’re going to get away with it?”
“Oh, I see.” He relaxed again, all smiles. “So our Arthur’s worried that the bloodhounds are going to start snapping at his butt, is he? Well, forget it. They won’t. All they know so far is that a bunch of armed men in a Volkswagen van roughed up one of their guard posts. So the first thing they’ll do is set up blocks on all the roads leading out of the city and look for the van. They’ll find it, abandoned, over in Galata. Then they’ll start the usual routine-Who’s the owner? Where is he? What did he look like?-and get no place. By then, though, they’ll have done some thinking, too, and some big brain will be starting to wonder why it had to be that particular post and why nobody got killed-why a lot of things. He may even think of checking out the Treasury Museum and so come up with the right answer. When he does, they’ll double up on the road blocks and throw out the dragnet. Only we won’t be inside it. We’ll be going ashore at a little place sixty miles from here and two hours’ easy driving from Edirne and the frontier.” He patted my arm. “And where we go ashore, Arthur, Miss Lipp will be waiting to pick us up.”
“With the Lincoln?”
“What else? We wouldn’t want to walk, would we, or leave without our bags?”
I had to laugh. I couldn’t help it. And it didn’t matter, because Harper thought that it was the beauty of his plan that I found so amusing, and not the bloody great hole in it. I thought of the customs inspector’s face when the Lincoln drove up for clearance-if Tufan allowed it to get that far-and when he saw me again. I laughed so much that Fischer began to laugh, too. It was the best moment I had had in days. I ate some sandwiches and had another drink. There was garlic sausage in the sandwiches, but I didn’t even have a twinge of indigestion. I thought my worries were over.
The place we were to go ashore was a port called Serefli, a few miles south of Corlu. Harper said that it would take five hours to get there. I cleaned off the filth I had collected from the Seraglio roof as best I could and went to sleep in the saloon. The others used the cabins. Giulio and Enrico ran the boat between them. I found out later that they had sent the boat’s regular crew ashore at Pendik for an evening on the town, and then slipped out of the harbor after dark. The patrol boat that was supposed to be keeping an eye on the Bulut missed it completely.
It was getting light when voices in the saloon woke me. Harper and Miller were drinking coffee, and Fischer was trying to make his dirty bandages look more presentable by brushing them. He seemed to be having some sort of discussion with Harper. As it was in German, I couldn’t understand. Then Harper looked at me and saw that I was awake.
“Arthur can use a screwdriver,” he said, “if you just show him what to do.”
“Which door?” Fischer asked.
“Does it matter? How about the right rear?”
“We were talking about a safe place for the loot,” Harper said to me. “Inside one of the car doors seems a good place for the customs people to forget about.”
“Arthur would not know about such things,” Miller said waggishly.
They had a good laugh over that gem of wit, while I tried to look mystified. Luckily, Enrico came in just then and said that we would be entering port in ten minutes.
I had some of the coffee and a stale sandwich. Harper went up to the wheelhouse. Half an hour later, the sun was up and we were moored alongside a stone jetty.
Fishermen are early risers and the harbor was already busy. Cuttlefish boats were unloading the night’s catch at the quayside. Caiques with single-cylinder engines were chugging out to sea. A port official came aboard to collect dues. After a while, Harper came down and said that he was going ashore to make sure that Miss Lipp was there. He left the velvet bag with Fischer.
He returned fifteen minutes later and reported that the Lincoln was parked in a side street beside a cafe-restaurant on the main square. Miss Lipp was in the restaurant eating breakfast. The side street was a quiet one. Fischer and I could get busy on the door. We would be allowed half an hour to complete the job.
Fischer borrowed a screwdriver from Enrico and we went ashore. Nobody seemed to take any notice of us, probably because we looked so scruffy. I couldn’t see the Opel or the Peugeot anywhere about, but that didn’t worry me. I knew that one or other of them would be on tap. We found the car without difficulty and I started on the door. It was an ordinary screwdriver I had to work with, but the earlier removals of the panel had eased the screws and I didn’t do any more damage to the leather. It took me ten minutes to take the panel off, five seconds for Fischer to wedge the velvet bag in clear of the window mechanism, and fifteen minutes for me to replace the panel. Then Fischer and I got into the back seat. Two minutes later, Miss Lipp came out of the restaurant and got behind the wheel. If she had slept the previous night it could only have been at the inn in Corlu; but she looked as fresh as she always did.