There was a slight pause, then Radnitz said, “I thought it is time we had a talk, Vasili. It is now three months since we last met. Have you any news for me?”
Vrenschov lifted his fat shoulders.
“The Kazan dam?”
Radnitz’s hooded eyes hardened.
“What else but the Kazan dam?”
“Yes. Well, you may be sure that I am promoting your interests, Mr Radnitz, as I always do and will.”
“And...?”
“This is, of course, an enormous undertaking, Mr Radnitz,” Vrenschov said with an oily smile. “The cost...”
“We have gone into all that,” Radnitz said, a snap in his voice. “I am prepared to finance half the project. Your people the other half. My technicians will assist and advise. That is my proposal. I now want to know what your people are doing about it.”
“Well, to be frank, Mr Radnitz,” Vrenschov paused to sip his drink. “My people are hesitating. As you can be sure. I have pressed your case, but they think they should consult other contractors to see if the dam can be built for less money.”
A tiny flame of rage flickered in Radnitz’s eyes and immediately vanished.
“No other contractor can build the dam for less, and certainly not as well as I can.”
“I am quite sure that is correct, but my people are difficult. They are investigating further in spite of what I advise. So, there is a delay. I am confident that before very long, matters will be arranged in your favour.”
There came a tap on the door and Mythen entered.
“Lunch is served, gentlemen,” he announced.
The oysters were succulent and the grouse impeccable, served with a 1959 Margaux, followed by cheese and a champagne sorbet.
While the two men ate, Radnitz talked lightly of this and that, not referring to business, but Vrenschov knew that after lunch he would come under pressure. His past dealings with Radnitz warned him that Radnitz was a ruthless negotiator and he would have to handle him with kid gloves.
Finally, the two men returned to the study, sat down with brandies and cigars, then Radnitz opened fire.
“You and I, Vasili, have had a happy and profitable association,” he said, staring with his hooded eyes at Vrenschov. “We have done four deals together. You have been paid, into your numbered account, some ninety thousand Swiss francs as commission which your masters know nothing about.”
Vrenschov smiled. He was too old a hand to react to any hint of blackmail. A Swiss numbered account gave complete security.
“My people know nothing about my Swiss account and will know nothing about it, Mr Radnitz,” he said.
Radnitz realized this smiling Russian was not blackmail material. He nodded, and changed tactics.
“If I get the Kazan dam contract through your efforts, Vasili, I think I promised you a quarter of a million Swiss francs.”
Vrenschov smiled again.
“That was your kind arrangement, and you may be sure I am doing my very best in your favour, but, as I have said, my people insist on getting other tenders.”
Radnitz studied the end of his cigar, his toad-like face expressionless.
“It seems to me,” he said finally, “that a lever is needed to bring your masters down on my side.”
“A lever? This I don’t understand.”
“The Catherine the Great icon,” Radnitz said, watching Vrenschov closely, but the fat Russian merely lifted his eyebrows.
“Ah, yes,” he said. “I hear that it has been stolen when on exhibit in Washington. What can it have to do with the Kazan dam?”
Radnitz controlled his impatience.
“Your masters are making considerable political capital out of the theft. The theft has put the President in a very awkward position. He is not popular. The world press are critical of him. He has taken immediate precautions the icon does not leave the States and by sealing all exits, he is causing considerable inconvenience to the public who are already protesting, blaming the President. From their point of view, I understand this. Very few Americans care a damn about a Russian icon and to have delays and baggage checks at all airports, restrictions on ships and so on makes the President very unpopular.”
“That is regrettable,” Vrenschov said with a sly smile, “but what has your President’s troubles to do with my people?”
“Come Vasili, you know as well as I do, any trouble that affects the President is joyful news at the Kremlin.”
Vrenschov laughed: a harsh guttural sound.
“Off the record, Mr Radnitz, I would say you were correct.”
“It is said that the President has assured your Premier that the icon is still in the States, and before very long, it will be recovered.”
“Yes, this is so. Pravda has published an account of the conversation, but it may take months or even years to find it, if the thief is prepared to wait.” Vrenschov passed his brandy glass under his fat nose, sniffing at the aroma. “Is it possible that this exit check, delaying travellers, could continue indefinitely until the icon is found?”
“No. I would imagine the check will continue for at least a month, causing the President more and more trouble, then it will gradually be lifted under the pressure of public complaints.”
“That would be the thief’s opportunity?”
“No. There would be spot checks, sudden searches. He would have to have very strong nerves to attempt to smuggle the icon abroad.”
Vrenschov finished his brandy.
“Happily, Mr Radnitz, this isn’t in my province. We seem to have moved away from the Kazan dam which is.”
“I was talking about a lever,” Radnitz said. “Have some more brandy, my dear Vasili.”
“That is kind.” Vrenschov helped himself liberally from the cut-glass decanter. “Splendid brandy.”
“I take it your masters would be glad to have the icon back?”
“Of course. The icon is one of the finest exhibits in the Hermitage. It always attracts great interest with the tourists and its value is incalculable.”
Radnitz pulled at his cigar.
“This is the lever I have mentioned. Just suppose I was in the position to return the icon to the Hermitage and give you proof that the President has lied that the icon is still in the States would you think your masters would be pleased enough to give me the Kazan dam contract? Just suppose I can prove that the icon left the States the day after it had been stolen in spite of the security precautions, involving all the police, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the CIA, the Army and the Navy. Well handled, the publicity in the world press, once the story was cleverly leaked, would make the President a laughing stock, would it not?”
Vrenschov inclined his head.
“Yes. That is obvious, Mr Radnitz. Are you in the position to return the icon or is this just supposition?”
“It depends on your people,” Radnitz said. “If I get the Kazan dam contract, they will get the icon.”
Vrenschov sucked in his breath.
“Mr Radnitz, I have dealt with you for some time and I have come to rely on any statement you make. Then can I take it you have the icon?”
“I did not say that. I said I could get it. It will cost me money, but I’m prepared to pay for the icon provided I get the contract.”
“It is no longer in the States?”
“No.”
Vrenschov waited, hoping Radnitz would say where it was, but as Radnitz remained silent, he ventured, “You can guarantee its return?”
“Provided your people guarantee me the dam contract,” Radnitz said, looking directly at Vrenschov. “We can make the exchange here. You get the icon. I get the contract.”
“This is a very interesting proposal, Mr Radnitz. I will leave for Moscow tomorrow,” Vrenschov said. “I can tell my people that the icon has in fact left the States?”