The Fourth Estate (35 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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BOOK: The Fourth Estate
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“I’m not that
surprised,” said Oakshott. “I did warn you...

“And you have
been proved right, sir.”

“I’m sorry to
hear it, though,” replied the colonel, “because I still believe it’s important
to build bridges with these people and to regain their confidence.”

1 couldn’t agree
with you more, sir,” said Armstrong. “And I can assure you that I’m trying to
play my part.”

“I know you are,
Dick. How’s
Der Telegraf
faring in
these difficult times?”

“Never better,”
he replied. “Starting next month we’ll have a Sunday edition on the streets,
and the daily is still breaking records.”

“That’s
tremendous news,” said the colonel. “By the way, I’ve just been told that the
Duke of Gloucester may be making an official visit to Berlin next month. Could
make a good story.”

“Would you like
to see it on the front page of
Der
Telegraf
?” Armstrong asked.

“Not until I get
the all-clear from Security. Then you can have-what do you call it?-an
exclusive.”

“How exciting,”
said Armstrong, remembering the colonel’s penchant for visiting dignitaries,
especially members of the royal family. He rose to leave.

“Don’t forget to
report to Forsdyke,” were the colonel’s final words before Armstrong saluted
and was driven back to his office.

Armstrong had
more pressing considerations on his mind than a major from the security
service. As soon as he had cleared the mail from his desk, he warned Sally that
he intended to spend the rest of the day in the American sector. “if Forsdyke
calls,” he said, “make an appointment for me to see him some time tomorrow.”

As Private
Benson drove him across the city toward the American sector, Armstrong went
through the sequence of events that would be necessary if everything were to
appear unplanned. He told Benson to stop off at Holt & Co, where he
withdrew E 100 from his account, almost clearing his entire balance. He left a
token sum, as it was still a court-martial offense for a British officer to
have an overdraft.

Once he had
crossed into the American sector, Benson drew up outside another bank, where
Armstrong exchanged the sterling for $4 10, which he hoped would be a large
enough stake to ensure that Max Sackville would fall in with his plans. The two
of them had a leisurely lunch in the American mess, and Armstrong agreed to
join the captain later that evening for their usual game of poker. When he
jumped back into his jeep, he ordered Benson to drive him to the offices of Der
Berliner.

Julius Hahn was
surprised to see Captain Armstrong so soon after their first meeting, but he
immediately dropped what he was doing to show his distinguished visitor round
the plant. It took Armstrong only a few minutes to realize the size of the
empire Hahn controlled, even if he did keep repeating in a self-deprecating
way, “It’s nothing like the old days.”

By the time
Armstrong had completed his tour, including the twenty-one presses in the
basement, he was aware of just how insignificant
Der Telegraf
was by comparison with Hahn’s outfit, especially when
his host mentioned that he had seven other printing presses of roughly the same
size in other parts of Germany, including one in the Russian sector of Berlin.

When Armstrong
finally left the building a few minutes after five, he thanked Julius, as he
had started to call him, and said, “We must meet again soon, my friend. Perhaps
you’d care to join me for lunch some time?”

“That’s most
kind of you,” said Hahn. “But as I’m sure you know, Captain Armstrong, I’m not
allowed to visit the British sector.”

“Then I will
simply have to come to you,” said Armstrong with a smile.

Hahn accompanied
his visitor to the door and shook him warmly by the hand. Armstrong crossed the
road and walked down one of the side streets, ignoring his driver. He stopped
when he came to a bar called Joe’s, and wondered what it had been known as
before the war. He stepped inside as Benson brought the jeep to a halt a few
yards further down the road.

Armstrong
ordered a Coca-Cola and took a seat in the corner of the bar.

He was relieved
that no one recognized him or made any attempt to join him. After a third Coke,
he checked that the $4 10 was in place. It was going to be a long night.

“Where the hell is
he?” demanded Forsdyke.

“Captain
Armstrong had to go over to the American sectorjust before lunch, sir,” said
Sally. “Something urgent came up following his meeting with Colonel Oakshott.
But before he left, he did ask me to make an appointment if you called.”

“That was most
thoughtful of him,” said Forsdyke sarcastically. “Something urgent has come up
in the British sector, and I’d be obliged if Captain Armstrong would report to
my office at nine o’clock tomorrow mornmg.rl “I’ll see that he gets your message
just as soon as he returns, Major Forsdyke,” said Sally. She would have tried
to contact Dick immediately, but she had absolutely no idea where he was.

“Five card stud
as usual?” said Max, pushing a bottle of beer and an opener across the green
baize table.

“Suits me,” said
Armstrong as he began to shuffle the deck.

“I have a
feeling about tonight, old buddy,” said Max, removing his jacket and hanging it
on the arm of his chair. “I hope you’ve got a lot of money to burn.” He poured
his beer slowly into a glass.

“Enough,” said
Armstrong. He only sipped at his beer, aware that he would need to remain stone
cold sober for several hours. When he had finished shuffling, Max cut the deck
and fit a cigarette.

By the end of
the first hour, Armstrong was $70 ahead, and the word “lucky” kept floating
across from the other side of the table. He be-gan the second hour with a
Cushion of nearly $500. “You’ve been on a lucky run so far,” said Max, flicking
the top off his fourth bottle of beer.

“But the night
is far from over.”

Armstrong smiled
and nodded, as he tossed another card across to his opponent and dealt himself
a second one. He checked his cards: the four and nine of spades. He placed $5
on the table and dealt two more cards.

Max Countered
the bid with $5 of his own, and turned the corner of his card to see what Dick
had dealt him. He tried not to smile, and placed another $5 on top of
Armstrong’s stake.

Armstrong dealt
himself a fifth card, and studied his hand for some time before placing a $ 10
bill in the kitty. Max didn’t hesitate to remove $10 from a wad in an inside
pocket and drop it on the pile of notes in the center of the table. He licked
his lips and said, “See you, old buddy.”

Armstrong turned
his cards over to reveal a pair of fours. Max’s smile became even broader as he
produced a pair of tens. “You can’t bluff me,” said the American, and clawed
the money back to his side of the table.

By the end of
the second hour Max was slightly ahead. “I did warn you that it was going to be
a long night,” he said. He had dispensed with the glass some time ago, and was
now drinking straight from the bottle.

It was during
the third hour, after Max had won three hands in a row, that Dick brought the
name of Julius Hahn into the conversation. “Claims he knows you.”

 

“Yeah, sure
does,” said Max. “He’s responsible for bringing out the paper in this sector.
Not that I ever read it.”

“He seems pretty
successful,” said Armstrong, dealing another hand.

“Certainly is.
But only thanks to me.” Armstrong placed $ 10 in the center of the table,
despite having nothing more than ace high. Max immediately dropped $ 10 on top
of his, and demanded another card.

“What do you
mean’becaUse of you’?” Armstrong asked, placing $20 on the growing pile.

Max hesitated,
checked his cards, looked at the pile and said, “Was that $20 you just put in?”
Armstrong nodded, and the American extracted $20 from the pocket of his jacket.

“He couldn’t
even wipe his ass in the morning if I didn’t hand him the paper,” said Max,
studying his hand intently. I issue his monthly permit.

I control his
paper supply. I decide how much electricity he gets. I decide when it will be
turned on and off. As you and Arno Schultz know only too well.”

Max looked up,
and was surprised to see Armstrong removing a stack of notes from his wallet.
“You’re bluffing, kid,” said Max. I can smell it.” He hesitated. “How much did
you put up that time?”

“Fifty dollars,”
said Armstrong casually.

Max dug into his
jacket pocket and extracted two tens and six fives, placing them gingerly on
the table. “So let’s see what you’ve come up with this time,” he said
apprehensively.

Armstrong
revealed a pair of sevens. Max immediately burst Out laughing, and flicked over
three jacks.

I knew it.
You’re full of shit.” He took another swig from his bottle. As he started
dealing the next hand the smile never left his face. “I’m not sure which one
would be easier to polish off, you or Hahn,” he said, beginning to slur his
words.

“Are you sure
that’s not the drink talking?” said Dick, studying his hand with little
interest.

“You’ll see
who’s doing the talking,” replied Max. “Within an hour I’ll have wiped you
Out.”

1 wasn’t
referring to me,” said Armstrong, dropping another $5 into the center of the
table. “I was talking about Hahn.”

There was a long
pause while Max took another swig from the bottle. He then studied his cards
before putting them face down on the table.

Armstrong drew
another card and deposited $10 with the bank. Max demanded a further card, and
when he saw it he began licking his lips. He returned to his wad and extracted
a further $ 10.

“Let’s see what
you’ve got this time, old buddy,” Max said, confident he must win with two
pairs, aces and jacks.

Armstrong turned
over three fives. Max scowled as he watched his winnings return across the
table. “Would you be willing to put real money in place of that big mouth of
yours?” he asked.

“I just have,”
said Dick, pocketing the money.

“No, I meant
when it comes to Hahn.”

Dick said
nothing.

“You’re full of
chickenshit,” said Max, after Dick had remained silent for some time.

Dick placed the
deck back on the table, looked across at his opponent and said coolly, “I’ll
bet You a thousand dollars you can’t put Hahn out of business.”

Max put down his
bottle and stared across the table as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just
heard. “How long will you give rne?”

“Six weeks.”

“No, that’s not
long enough. Don’t forget I have to make it look as if it’s nothing to do with
me. I’ll need at least six months.”

“I haven’t got six
months,” said Armstrong. “I could always close down
Der Telegraf
in six weeks if you want to reverse the bet.”

“But Hahn’s
running a far bigger operation than Arno Schultz,” said Max.

“I realize that.
So I’ll give you three months.”

“Then I’d expect
you to offer me odds.”

Once again,
Armstrong pretended he needed time to consider the proposition. “Two to one,”
he eventually said.

“Three to one
and you’re on,” said Max.

“You’ve got a
deal,” said Armstrong, and the two men leaned across the table and shook hands.
The American captain then rose unsteadily from his chair, and walked over to a
drawing of a scantily dressed woman adorning a calendar on the far wall. He
lifted the pages until he reached October, removed a pen from his hip pocket,
counted out loud and drew a large circle around the seventeenth. “That’ll be
the day when I collect my thousand dollars,” he said.

“You haven’t a
hope in hell,” said Armstrong. “I’ve met Hahn, and I can tell you he won’t be
that easy to roll over.”

‘Just watch me,”
said Max as he returned to the table.

“I’m going to do
to Hahn exactly what the Germans failed to do.”

Max began to
deal a new hand. For the next hour, Dick continued to win back most of what he
had lost earlier in the evening. But when he left to return home just before
midnight, Max was still licking his lips.

When Dick came
out of the bathroom the following morning he found Charlotte sitting up in bed
wide awake.

“And what time
did you get home last night?” she asked coldly, as he pulled open a drawer in
search of a clean shirt.

‘Twelve,” said
Dick, “maybe one. I ate out so you didn’t have to worry about me.”

“I’d rather you
came home at a civilized hour, and then perhaps we could eat one of the meals I
prepare for you every night.”

“As I keep
trying to tell you, everything I do is in your best interests.”

“I’m beginning
to think you don’t know what is in my best interests,” said Charlotte.

Dick studied her
reflection in the mirror, but said nothing.

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