The King's Commisar

'A little squash once,' Pilgrim said, with a touch of pride. 'I had a knock-up once at the New York Racquet Club with Hashim Khan.'

'Then let me tell you what it was you noticed. First, he hit the ball both much harder and much straighter than you.

Secondly, he did not make mistakes. Thirdly, he could keep going at a very high level of performance far longer than you could. Agreed?'

'Oh, sure.' Pilgrim was smiling now at the recollection. 'But you left one out.'

'What's that?'

'Positional play. Anticipation, if you like. He was there and ready with the answer while you were still trying to set the question-' Pilgrim broke off, abruptly comprehending. Malory said, 'Precisely. All these things are games. Zaharoff's game was power, and he played it supremely well.'

Pilgrim crossed to the window and stood looking out, I realize you're convinced of it all, Horace. You know I'm not. Could you convince me?'

'Yes, I think I could.'

'I'm going to ask you to do it right now,' Pilgrim said. 'But first . . .' He pressed a button on his intercom and said, 'Come in, would you, Jacques.'

Graves came in immediately. 'What I want, Jacques,' Pilgrim said, 'and I'm afraid it will probably be one hell of a job, is a complete list of all regular payments made by Hillyard, Cleef which are or even may be pension payments. Up to and including - what year did Zaharoff die, Horace?'

'Nineteen thirty-six.'

'Okay, from, say, nineteen-fourteen to nineteen-thirty-six. Right?'

'Right.'

As Graves departed, Pilgrim settled into his chair. 'Convince me.'

'Have you ever been to Monte?' Malory enquired.

'Monte Carlo? Yes.'

'Did you visit the Casino?'

'Yes.'

'And play?'

'No, not me.'

'Nowadays, of course,' Malory said musingly, 'it's not what it was. There are casinos everywhere, even -' and his lip bent in distaste - 'here in London. But there was a time, Laurence, when Las Vegas did not exist, nor casinos in London and other cities. Rich men and women who wanted to play chemin de fer or roulette had to go to Monte. Know anything, do you, about Monaco's status?'

'It's a principality, isn't it? - What's the guy's name? Rainier?'

'The family name is Grimaldi. Hereditary rulers. Have been for centuries. Keep them in mind, will you, my dear chap, while I tell you something of Sir Basil. Oh - and the lady I believe I mentioned - she must have liked him. She waited forty years to marry him.

'Zaharoff was born in any number of places, and born poor in all of them, or so he said at different times. But effectively he started off in Constantinople as a fireman, of all things - this is the eighteen-sixties, mind, when fire brigades were perhaps a little less, er, technically minded than they are these days. Those chappies used to start a fire, then run round with their axes and chop their way into the surrounding property and see what was portable. You understand?

'He was Greek, Zaharoff was, and this was Turkey, with scrapping going on all over the place. He began to sell arms. Sold more and more. Worked for Nordenfelt, then heard about Maxim's new machine-gun, forced a merger between 'em and became the salesman for Maxim, Nordenfelt. And when I say salesman, as I'm sure you understand, Laurence, I do not mean that he drove a little Ford motor-car and made fifteen calls per day.'

Pilgrim smiled. 'What did he drive?'

Malory smiled back. 'Hard bargains. Took his commission, of course. Then came the day he sold a submarine for Vickers, I think it was to Queen Marie of Roumania, and rumour had it the deal was done à deux.Heard of Queen Marie, have you? Quite a lady she was! Well, never mind. Zaharoff quickly became Vickers' top figure. He was only a director, one among many, not chairman or anything, but his will determined everything. He started wars, armed both sides, that kind of thing. Kept the Balkans boiling for decades. When you talk about anticipation, mark this - no sooner had the Wright Brothers flown at Kittyhawk than Zaharoff set up chairs in aviation at three universities: Oxford, Paris and St Petersburg. There was a fella called Constantinescu who devised the gear which enabled machine-guns to fire through rotating propellers. He was Basil's, I seem to remember.

'But meantime, he fell in love. Oh yes, Zaharoff fell. Here comes the lady: Spanish grandee, Duchess of Villa-franca and much else besides. Married to a madman, the Duchess was, and powerfully Papist into the bargain, so -well, there couldn't be a divorce. Had to wait for the Grim Reaper. So they waited: forty-three years, I think it was. Then the Duke died and they got married. Are you still listening?'

'You have my attention, Horace, believe me.'

'So here's our poor boy from the slums of Constantinople. He's now among the richest men in the world and his wife is a duchess. Lloyd George, meantime, has given Basil a knighthood. He's quite the grandee himself. AH he lacks is a kingdom to lay at the feet of his bride.

'Now, consider Monaco. For three hundred years, from the time of the Treaty of Peronne in 1641 Monaco has been part of France. The Grimaldi prince has no true sovereignty and what's more, he has a French garrison quartered on him just in case he turns ambitious. But there were one or two things he could still do, and in 1862 he granted to a man named Blanc a concession to open a casino in Monte Carlo. Blanc was clever and also had a son who was very clever; so, before you could say Athelsgate, the place was coining money. So much that the whole of Monaco lived on it, from the prince downward. No taxes. Police, judges, public works, all were paid for. As an arrangement,' Malory said admiringly, 'it was quite lovely! But then came the war.'

'Which war?'

'Ah. Nineteen-fourteen. Am I boring you, Laurence?'

'Not yet.'

'Well, with the war going strong, business dwindled. For poor Monsieur Blanc, that is, not for Zaharoff as you might imagine. He had a small commission on many of the bullets, most of the shells and almost all the guns. But with business going down in the casino, down went the income of the current Grimaldi prince, who didn't much like it, and therefore made an approach -quietly, of course, to Zaharoff. What it amounted to was that in due course, given a secret option to purchase, Zaharoff would be able to throw out Blanc and his sons and sons-in-law, one of whom was a Buonoparte, by the way, and the other a Radziwill. Sure you're not getting lost in all this, Laurence?'

'I'm waiting for the fish hook.'

Malory smiled. 'Soon, soon. One further point to remember is the long relationship that existed, on the very closest terms, between the French premier Georges Clemenceau and Zaharoff. Forgive me if I sound like a schoolmaster, will you?'

'Goon,Horace!'

'What happened - and this in the middle of the greatest war in history - was that Clemenceau suddenly concluded a treaty - a treaty which was kept absolutely secret! - with Monaco's Prince. Under its terms Monaco was to be a sovereign principality again. The treaty was never published, I might tell you, not as such. But the terms did turn up eventually, in the small print of the Versailles Treaty, where it was damned hard to find.

'After that,' said Malory, 'it was easy. Zaharoff paid a million for the Casino and so he became the true ruler of Monaco.'

'Smart,' said Pilgrim.

'Yes, that's a fair word.'

'He was quite an operator.'

'He was indeed. Are you conv - Good gracious me!’ Malory sat as though pole-axed, mouth agape, eyes staring.

Pilgrim came quickly out of his chair, wondering if the old man might not be having some kind of seizure.

'You okay, Horace?'

Malory frowned at him. 'Eh?'