"And the descriptions of the two potential victims fit us with remarkable closeness?" Beaurain suggested.
"We have your descriptions," Marker admitted. "And so far no-one can give us a clear description of the would-be murderers." He smiled broadly. "I'm glad you survived the attack." He picked up the knife Kellerman had put back on the desk and held it out. "This, I believe, is your property, Mr. Foxbel."
Take it," Beaurain said quickly. "I came here to ask what you know about a certain Dr. Benny Horn who has a house on Nyhavn."
"Highly respected dealer in rare books," Marker said promptly. "The house on Nyhavn is both his shop and his home. He travels the world searching out rare volumes, so we are told. I think, Jules, you should be careful if you are investigating the Stockholm Syndicate."
Chapter Eleven
The conversation which followed was so horrifying that Beaurain could in later years repeat it word for word from memory.
"Why bring up the Stockholm Syndicate?" Beaurain asked.
"Because you mentioned Dr. Benny Horn. Nothing can be proved, but I am convinced he is a member of the directorate which controls this evil organisation. So far they have tried to kill me twice," he added casually.
"What about your family?" Beaurain asked slowly, watching Marker for any flicker of expression.
"They threatened to gouge out the eyes of my wife and cut off the legs of my ten-year-old boy below the knees. I have sent them both out of the country to a destination I will not reveal even to you."
Beaurain was shaken. He had known Marker since he had become a superintendent and he knew the man had courage, but this was appalling. He stood up, lit a cigarette and fetched himself an ash-tray to give himself time to think.
"Who are "they"?" he asked eventually.
"Voices on the phone often a girl, for Christ's sake. She was the one who spelt out the details of what would happen to my family."
Beaurain looked towards the closed inter-communicating door. "It is safe to speak, I assume?"
"There has been an armed guard on the far side of that door ever since you both entered this room. At this moment I am wearing a bullet-proof vest which I put on before I leave my flat every morning. The new system employed by the Syndicate relies on secret intimidation of the most ferocious kind — take my own example."
"The threat must have been combined with some request?"
"Of course!" Marker looked savage. "Give me one of your cigarettes, for God's sake. Thank you." He paused a moment, studying the Belgian as though taking a major decision. Then he spoke with great vehemence. "I do not expect you to comment on my statement but it is vital that Telescope smashes the Syndicate. No government agency I know of can or will — they are like tethered goats waiting for the tiger to strike."
Beaurain looked bemused. Marker sat on the edge of his desk close to the two men as though he needed the reassurance of their proximity. "No government agency at all?" Beaurain asked.
"This man fell ten storeys from a balcony one night." Marker took a small notebook from his pocket, scribbled a name on it, tore the sheet from the pad and gave it to Beaurain, concealing it from Kellerman. 'For your eyes only," he said with a mirthless smile, 'as the best spies are supposed to say. But this is for real, my friend."
Beaurain glanced at the name, refolded the piece of paper and handed it to Marker who thrust it inside his pocket. It was the name of one of the most well-known political leaders in Europe, who had do minated the Common Market before his 'accident'.
"How do you know that was the Syndicate?"
"Because when they threatened me they said he was going to die within seven days. Most people would have laughed, found it ludicrous. I took them seriously. I phoned my opposite number in the capital concerned. He thought I was mad. At least that's what he said."
"What does that mean?" Beaurain put in.
"I'll tell you in a minute." Marker continued vehemently: "I forced my way through on the phone to the man himself. I warned him to seek immediate protection. He thought I was mad. Forty-eight hours later they pushed him off the balcony and sent him ten storeys down to smash to a pulp on the concrete below. The bastards!" Marker's face was flushed and Beaurain had never known him display such emotion.
"The man he is referring to left behind a wife and several children," Beaurain informed Kellerman.
"Only an invisible organisation like Telescope can smash the Stockholm Syndicate," Marker said. It was the second time he had openly referred to Telescope.
"They rely on the threat alone?" Beaurain asked.
"The swine offered me a bloody fortune in cash if I co-operated. All the big drug runs from the Far East for Stockholm come through here. I would turn my back on that — just for one example.
"What is "the same route as always", which I believe is the phrase you used earlier," Kellerman enquired, 'in connection with the big consignment?"
"Amsterdam through to Copenhagen," Marker said promptly. "On from Copenhagen by train, across the ferry at Elsinore over the Oresund to Sweden. Then the last lap by the same train until it reaches its final destination — Stockholm. The train ferries at Elsinore are a damned nuisance. If they had to take it by scheduled air flight — or by car or truck — sooner or later we would get lucky in our searches. But you can't search a whole train and whole trains cross from Elsinore on the giant ferries."
"Thank you," said Kellerman, and withdrew from the conversation.
"You said your opposite number you phoned about the danger to a statesman's life thought you were mad. At least he said that, you added. What did you mean?"
"I am perfectly sure he had already sold out to the Stockholm Syndicate." Marker stood up and paced slowly round his desk. "It is so easy, is it not? You take the large bribe, salt it away in a numbered bank account, and remove whatever horrible threat has been made against your wife, family, mistress or whoever. They offer you heaven or hell. Is it so surprising that many in countless different countries accepted the former and became part of the Stockholm Syndicate system — if only as informants? Cabinet ministers have made deals. Oh, yes, Mr. Foxbel, do not disbelieve me — I have seen it in their eyes when certain subjects are raised."
"It's a kind of leprosy," Beaurain murmured. "It will have to be burned out with red-hot pokers."
"Do not underestimate them," Marker warned.
"Do something for me, please." Beaurain's manner had changed suddenly as he recovered from the shock of sensing that Marker had been close to despair. "Check back on Dr. Benny Horn's background — where he came from, how he set up in that house on Nyhavn."
"I can tell you now. He was born in Elsinore — or just outside the port. He built up his business as a dealer in rare editions and two years ago moved to Copenhagen."
"I want more than that, Marker!" Beaurain was brusque. "I want men — a whole team — sent to Elsinore to interview every person who ever knew him."
"He was something of a recluse and travelling a lot in his profession."
"I want him pinned down! Like a butterfly in a collection! Do you have a photograph?"
"One — he is a difficult man to catch in the camera lens. The picture is not good — taken at a distance with a telephoto lens." Marker unlocked a steel filing cabinet, took out an envelope from which he extracted a photo. Beaurain glanced at it and then showed it to Kellerman who handed it back without comment.
"Show that picture to everyone who ever knew Horn in Elsinore. Find out whether — since he arrived in Copenhagen two years ago — he has ever spoken to or been seen by anyone who knew him when he lived in Elsinore. I just have a funny feeling about Benny Horn. I can call you here?" Beaurain queried.