Only when i larf, p.20
Only When I Larf, page 20
‘“Happy New Year,” they all shout, and start clapping.’
In an old frail Mr Moneybags voice I said, ‘You don’t have to spend your days sad and lonely and cooped up in this little garrett. Your friends are welcoming you back to Broadway. And now, Dolly sweetheart, to make your old friends happy, sing like in the old days.’
‘Lean in,’ shouted Bob, who was moving the camera around and framing each new shot with shouts of joy and creative genius. ‘Cheat a little to camera. Heads close.’
I said, ‘The audience shout, “Please Dolly a song”.’
Bob tried to be a couple of hundred people shouting for a song.
‘Just like in the old days Dolly,’ said I.
‘I can’t,’ said Liz. She was playing now. Bob and I hummed Little Dolly Daydream intro four bars. Liz began falteringly, ‘Little Dolly Daydream, pride … no, no. I can’t go on.’ Liz brought out a handkerchief and wiped away a tear. Bob dollyed in for a big C. U. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, ‘I think I’ve forgotten the words.’
‘In that case,’ I said in my Moneybags voice, ‘Your old friends will help you remember them. Little Dolly Daydream, pride of Idaho.’ Liz joined in with us.
‘Who’s standing in the wings,’ said Bob. ‘I’ll tell you who; her old boyhood sweetheart, that’s who.’
I said, ‘Rock Hudson could play it.’
Liz said, ‘Cary Grant could play it.’
Bob said, ‘Let’s face it fans, even Donald Duck could play it.’
I pulled the curtains, ‘The light’s dim,’ I said. ‘And there’s just one spotlight on Dolly.’ I lit her.
‘Now the band plays, The Man I Love,’ said Liz. Bob and I gave her the first few bars. She was cheering up. Liz sang, Bob said, ‘She looks at him from the stage. He’s in the wings in shadow and then he steps into the light.’
‘Rock Hudson wipes away a tear,’ I said.
‘Cary Grant wipes away a tear,’ amended Liz.
‘Quack, quack,’ said Bob. ‘Quack …’
The phone rang. We all froze. We looked at each other until Bob said, ‘That might be Spencer.’
‘It might be,’ I said. ‘But personally I doubt it.’ I walked to the phone and paused a moment before answering it. Perhaps the distaste in my voice was too evident as I told Bob that it was his friend Spider. He wished to know if he could borrow the Rolls for half an hour.
‘That’s all right,’ Bob said. ‘The doorman’s got the keys. Tell him not to leave the back seat full of hairpins, will you?’
I relayed that intelligence to Spider who grunted a laconic thanks and rang off.
‘It wasn’t your friend Spencer,’ I reminded Bob.
‘It will be,’ he said.
‘You seem very sure of yourself,’ I told him. ‘My personal feelings are that although last night he might have been carried away by your assumed savoir faire he will, upon reflection this morning, review your performance as what the critics call “a bit over the top”.’
‘Never on your nelly,’ said Bob without looking up from his breakfast. ‘I just behaved the way that upper class nit Spencer thinks a working class yob would behave if he had two million a year coming in. The more he thinks about it the more he’ll believe. You’ll see, you’ll see. I’ll murder him.’
‘You really hate Spencer,’ I said. ‘You’re a terrorist guerilla of the class war.’
‘You watch the blood and snot and feathers fly, and you’ll see how much I hate him.’
I tried to make the boy see some sense. I said, ‘What have you suddenly become Bob, some sort of mechanical man, operated by dynamos, servo mechanisms and electrical cut-outs? Last night you pounced upon Spencer like a newly promoted pest exterminator, not because he was a mark, but because he was a wealthy young man with a public school accent.’
‘Dead right,’ said Bob.
‘We’re not pest exterminators my boy, we’re anglers. Let your float drift and bob and drift some more. Take your pleasure from the light on the water and the slight threat of rain. Tie up each pretty fly with care, and never hurry. Above all my boy, learn to love the fishes.’ I glanced across at Liz and caught her eye, she smiled.
‘You hypocrite,’ said Bob.
‘Perhaps I am, but I never despise my marks; never. You keep telling me that Spencer is stupid, but he has all the sophistication and shrewdness that good schools and good family give a man of his breeding. You’re over-confident, my boy, slow down a little, give the Spencers of the world their moments of success and power and glory. Give all and each, what their little egos crave. Entertain them, just as any clever man entertains a woman he wants. Entertain them, entrance them and soothe them, and never, never hurry.’
‘I am in a hurry,’ shouted Bob.
I pushed the breadknife across the table to him, ‘Then take this, and go for some drunken tourist in Soho tonight. You’ll never master my game.’
‘I’ll have Spencer,’ said Bob. ‘If it’s the last thing I do.’
‘It might just be that,’ I said, looking at Liz.
It took a few moments for Bob to detect the uncomfortable silence. He looked up at us sharply. ‘Wait a minute. Don’t say both of you think that Spencer won’t come through?’
Liz said, ‘Well Bob, you were laying it on with a trowel.’
‘You’ll see,’ said Bob. ‘Don’t you want any more of that toast, Silas?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’ve had enough.’
It distressed Bob to see us so lacking in confidence in him. He went across to the telephone and said to the operator, ‘Phone Mr Spencer at Chartervac. Just say you have a call, don’t announce me. Got it? Right, ta.’
When he was connected Bob said, ‘Listen Spencer, you know who this is don’t you. Well, let’s keep it to ourselves shall we? Do you want to do this little job for me or don’t you? Right, well that shows you’ve got a bit of sense anyway. I’ve got the chief cashier of one of the biggest banks in Beirut over here now. I’m too busy to see him, and even if I wasn’t I wouldn’t see him, because that’s just why I’m giving you such a fat screw. Right? Well I told him to be in the George – that’s a boozer in Southwark – at 1.30 tomorrow lunchtime. I want you to see him there. He’s an Arab gentleman and he won’t drink no strong drink, so it’ll only cost you a couple of tonic waters. Yeah, well, sort him over then. After that tell me about it at New Zealand House. I bought it last week. I’ll meet you in the foyer at three tomorrow afternoon. Yeah, well, of course it’s a long way across London. I told you, didn’t I? I don’t want to be too near this deal, that’s what I’m paying you so much money for. I’m beginning to think I’m paying you too flippin’ much Spencer to tell the truth, so don’t start complaining or you’ll be out with a capital ow. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Amusing; that’s what it will be all right. Yeah, the same to you Spencer mate. See yer.’ He hung up.
‘He’s doing it?’ I said incredulously.
‘Course he is,’ said Bob contemptuously. ‘He’s a right mug. I don’t know what you are making all the fuss about. I’ve told you Silas, you are getting too old for this caper.’ He smiled spitefully.
‘What’s this Arab gentleman bit?’ asked Liz.
‘That’s Silas dressed up as an Arab,’ said Bob.
‘Never,’ I said.
‘I’m running this show Silas, matey,’ said Bob. ‘From now on you are my dogsbody and don’t you forget it. Get yourself some wog clothes a bit smartish. Stain your face a bit, tinted specs …’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ I said. ‘He’s seen me at close quarters. He’ll recognise me immediately.’
‘You do as I say,’ said Bob. ‘You’ll be in proper Arab gear – head dress and robes. Those fellers at the Embassy gave me the idea. You could hardly see their faces behind that stuff.’
‘And what sort of accent am I supposed to acquire?’ I asked, hoping, to tell you the truth, that that would end the matter.
‘Your posh accent,’ said Bob. ‘English public school Arab. That’s just right for a senior staff member of the biggest bank in Beirut …’
I said, ‘I don’t even know what is the biggest bank in Beirut.’
‘That’s all right,’ said Bob. ‘Nor does Spencer.’
‘He might look it up.’
‘And so might you then,’ said Bob. ‘Research, Silas. If you’ve told me once, you’ve told me a thousand times: research.’
It was no use arguing with him so I agreed.
‘I don’t like it,’ I said. ‘Can’t we use Liz for the third party as we usually do?’
‘No we can’t,’ said Bob. ‘This is an Arab caper. They wouldn’t let a woman do the household accounts, let alone become the chief cashier in a bank. We can’t use her.’
‘Why didn’t you tell him she was your secretary?’ I asked.
‘I had my reasons,’ said Bob.
‘No doubt,’ I said. ‘So that you could nibble her ear and be damn rude to me at the same time.’
‘Yeah, that’s it,’ Bob said. ‘Well now you know how I’ve felt, being the low-life for the last few years, while you two have been living it up. You’ve always told me that command is vital. What was that military axiom; only a commander can comprehend the importance of all aspects of the battle?’
‘Yes; Napoleon,’ I was strangely pleased he had remembered my words. ‘The risk of any job means nothing to me. It’s just the inconvenience …’
‘“The first duty of a soldier is to put up with hardship, fatigue and privation. Courage comes second,” Napoleon I think.’
‘That’s right,’ I said. I didn’t know whether to be displeased at being defeated in argument, or delighted to find that at last my words had borne fruit.
The George Inn at Southwark is an old galleried inn. In the summer it is packed from morning to night by coachloads of tourists. In the winter it belongs to the local inhabitants, men from the vegetable market across the road, and staff from Guys Hospital. I approached the place by taxi in order to reserve the moment of public appearance until the last possible instant. I alighted from the cab in my long Arab robes with my headgear in place and peering myopically through small gold-rimmed, pink-tinted spectacles. While I was still staring around me, Spencer came striding across to me to make himself known. With him was his bright-eyed little girl friend Rita.
‘My name’s Spencer,’ he said softly but full of self-importance. I nodded.
He said, ‘I’m Mr Appleyard’s second-in-command and this is Miss Rita Marsh.’ I simulated great respect and admiration.
‘Mr Appleyard is a most respected man in our part of the world,’ I said.
‘Is he?’
‘Don’t you know?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘Of course I know. Of course I know,’ said Spencer. ‘He’s a man respected all around the world. What are you drinking old chap?’
‘They don’t have yoghurt?’
‘No,’ said Spencer, he laughed. ‘Little chance of that. What about a glass of beer?’
‘Alas,’ I said, copying Ali’s form of address. ‘I fear my religion forbids strong drink. Perhaps a coca-cola.’
‘Coca-cola coming up,’ said Spencer. When he had got the drinks and found us seats in the far corner, he said, ‘Well to business.’
‘You Englishmen, get to the point rather earlier than we Lebanese, Mr Spencer.’
‘Well, that’s our way. Businesslike and straightforward, that’s what we try to be.’
I nodded but said nothing.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Spencer.
‘Your companion,’ I explained.
‘Good grief,’ said Spencer, ‘don’t worry your head about Rita. She won’t understand a word of it.’
Rita fixed me with a cold stare until I had to avert my eyes from hers.
‘Go ahead,’ said Spencer.
I nodded. ‘I have examined the forged bonds Mr Spencer and I want you to tell Mr Appleyard that they are the most remarkable works … I might almost say of art; works of art, Mr Spencer.’
‘Yes. Good,’ said Spencer nonchalantly, anxious to prove that he was au fait with every last detail.
‘There will be no question of difficulty. Who will be presenting them to the cashier?’
‘I will,’ said Spencer greedily. ‘I’ll be handling that job.’ I looked at him. He added, ‘On Mr Appleyard’s behalf naturally.’
‘Naturally. Well, I will be available if you wish me to accompany you to the other banks. You will collect from the ten banks within one and a half hours?’
‘That’s it.’
‘I have made a note here, of when the managers take their midday refreshment. As you see there is a period between 11 a.m. and 1.30 when only one manager will be at work. This ensures that the men we have …’ I looked around anxiously, to be sure we were not overheard, and whispered it behind my upraised hand. ‘… sweetened, will be the men in charge of the bank. Even if the cashier did query it, our man will say it’s O.K. In the case of my bank, I will do the same. It is understood?’ Rita continued to stare at me and I started to feel that she might have penetrated my disguise.
‘It is,’ said Spencer. ‘But aren’t these assistant managers taking a risk?’
‘On the contrary,’ I said. ‘As I have told you, the bonds are so exquisite that there is little or no chance that they will be called upon to express an opinion about them. Therefore when eventually the …’ I threw up my hands in mock horror, ‘… tragedy, is discovered the responsibility will be entirely that of the manager. If any action is taken. If, for instance, the managers are dismissed …’
‘Then your johnnies will be promoted to managers. Bloody marvellous. So that’s the game? You’ll be promoted to manager.’
I nodded graciously.
Spencer said, ‘So they are that good, these forged bonds?’
‘They are masterpieces, Mr Spencer. Quite magnificent.’
‘Do we have a date for the job?’
‘The fourteenth of next month.’
‘That soon.’
‘All is prepared. Delay is but a temptation to providence, Mr Spencer.’
‘Righto, the fourteenth of the month.’
‘You will phone me at the Credit Central du Liban at 11 a.m. on the thirteenth. Ask for me by name. My name is Hamid. Ask for Mr Hamid, do not give your name.’
‘Would you give me the phone number?’
‘It is better that it is not written. You can get the number from the International operator. Book the call in advance so that you will not be late. Do not call me at any other time whatever the emergency. It is understood?’
‘It is. That’s the way Mr Appleyard and I both like to do business.’
‘You are wise. Both of you.’
Spencer smiled complacently but he was no fool, and it seemed only too possible that he would see through Bob’s scheme before he paid the money over.
I said, ‘On the phone, I will say merely that I have nothing to tell you. You will then take the Olympic Airways aeroplane at 22.45 on the evening of the thirteenth from London to Beirut arriving at 08.25 on the fourteenth. You will go to the Hotel Phoenicia where a suite will be booked in the name of Smith. We are used to incognito travellers in Beirut. At 10.45 precisely you will phone me at the bank and if I say, “Come over to the bank right away,” you will bring the black leather bag containing eight hundred thousand dollars that Mr Appleyard is supplying …’
‘That I’m supplying personally,’ said Spencer. I allowed myself a gesture of respect and amazement. ‘You will wait in my office at the bank while I bring you the one million pounds in exchange for the first packet of bearer bonds. If there is any query – and I guarantee there will not be – I will be there to handle it. I will then, if you wish, accompany you to each of the other banks. I will use my own bank messengers to distribute the … gratuities. For it is vital that those tokens arrive before we do. For I fear my friends at the other banks will not otherwise cooperate.’ I made a gesture of the hand, ‘This then is all.’ At this Spencer touched his girl friend on the arm, got to his feet and terminated the meeting.
‘I have a conference with Mr Appleyard at three,’ said Spencer. ‘If you are sure that’s all …’
‘That is all,’ I said. ‘Now everything depends upon you and your,’ briefest of hesitation, ‘partner, sticking to the schedule.’
‘You needn’t worry about that, Mr Hamid,’ said Spencer.
‘I’m sure,’ I said.
‘Can I drop you anywhere?’ he said. ‘I’ve got my Porsche outside.’
I searched his face as though he might be trying to find out something he was not entitled to know. ‘The Savoy Hotel,’ I said.
‘Wherever you say,’ said Spencer.
I looked at Rita. She had hardly ceased to stare at me since I arrived. Now she allowed herself the merest trace of a smile before closing one eye in a slow wink. I looked away from her. Spencer went striding across to his open sports car. All three of us fitted into it, but only if Rita all but disappeared in a back-breaking crouch behind me. He was not a good driver and we were very nearly in a number of slight collisions, even before reaching the far side of London Bridge. Several times he was engaged in raucous argument with lorry drivers, one of whom shouted, ‘You’d think he’d drive a bit more careful ’aving his mother in the car.’ That being a reference to my head-dress. I said nothing, and we drove in silence for fifteen minutes or so, apart from Spencer’s occasional verbal clash with other road users. Finally I said, ‘I hope I have made everything quite clear, Mr Spencer.’
‘You’ve made it all very clear Hamid old bean,’ said Spencer flippantly. ‘This must be very exciting for you. It’s a brilliant idea eh? He’s a bright young chap that Appleyard, and entirely self taught. I mean, I wouldn’t imagine he’s been to any sort of university. He’s a rare character, perhaps even a genius.’
‘As much as I respect Mr Appleyard’s talent, I humbly suggest that there are even greater forces at work, using him merely as an instrument.’
‘What the devil do you mean?’
‘Perhaps I have said too much. I did not mean to disparage the brilliance of your employer. Everyone knows that he is a most powerful financial figure in his own right.’
