Bagley, Desmond - The Golden Keel Read online

  He came, but not at seven o'clock and I was beginning to doubt my judgment of the frailty of human nature. It was after eight when he knocked on the door, identified me, and said, "We'll forget the dinner; I've eaten."

  "All right," I said. "But what about a drink?" I crossed the room and put my hand on the brandy bottle. I was pretty certain it would be brandy -- most South Africans drink it.

  "I'll have a Scotch,'

  'he said unexpectedly. "Thanks," he added as an afterthought.

  As I poured the drinks I glanced at him. He was a bulky man, broad of chest and heavy in the body. His hair was black and rather coarse and he had a shaggy look about him. I'd bet that when stripped he'd look like a grizzly bear. His eyebrows were black and straight over eyes of a snapping electric blue. He had looked after himself better than Walker; his belly was flat and there was a sheen of health about him.

  I handed him a drink and we sat down facing each other. He was tense and wary, although he tried to disguise it by over-relaxing in his chair. We were like a couple of duellists who have just engaged blades.

  "I'll come to the point," I said. "A long time ago Walker told me a very interesting story about some gold. That was ten years ago and we were going to do something about it, but it didn't pan out. That might have been lucky because we'd have certainly made a botch of the job."

  I pointed my finger at him. "You've been keeping an eye on it. You've probably popped across to Italy from time to time just to keep your eye on things in general. You've been racking your brains trying to think of a way of getting that gold out of Italy, but you haven't been able to do it. You're stymied."

  His face had not changed expression; he would have made a good poker player. He said, "-When did you see Walker?"

  "Yesterday -- in Cape Town."

  The craggy face broke into a derisive grin. "And you flew up to Jo'burg to see me just because a dronkie like Walker told you a cock-and-bull story like that? Walker's a no-good hobo; I see a dozen like him in the Library Gardens every day," he said contemptuously.

  "It's not a cock-and-bull story, and I can grove it."

  Coertze just sat and looked at me like a stone gargoyle, the whisky glass almost lost in his huge fist.

  I said, "What are you doing here -- in this room? If there was no story, all you had to do was to ask me what the hell I was talking about when I spoke to you on the phone. The fact that you're here proves there's something in it."

  He made a fast decision. "All right," he said. "What's your proposition?"

  I said, "You still haven't figured a way of moving four tons of gold out of Italy. Is that right?"

  He smiled slowly. "Let's assume so," he said ironically.

  "I've got a foolproof way."

  He put down his glass and produced a packet of cigarettes. "What is it?"

  "I'm not going to tell you -- yet."

  He grinned. "Walker hasn't told you where the gold is, has he?"

  "No, he hasn't," I admitted. "But he would if I put pressure on him. Walker can't stand pressure; you know that."

  "He drinks too much," said Coertze. "And when he drinks he talks; I'll bet that's how he came to spill his guts to you." He lit his cigarette. "What do you want out of it?"

  "Equal shares," I said firmly. "A three-way split after all expenses have been paid."

  "And Walker comes with us on the job. Is that right?"

  "Yes," I said.

  Coertze moved in his chair. "Man, it's like this," he said. "I don't know if you've got a foolproof way of getting the gold out or if you haven't. I thought I had it licked a couple of times. But let's assume your way is going to work. Why should we take Walker?"

  He held up his hand. "I'm not suggesting we do him down or anything like that -- although he'd think nothing of cheating us. Give him his share after it's all over, but for God's sake keep him out of Italy. He'll make a balls-up for sure."

  I thought of Harrison and Parker and the two Italians. "You don't seeem to like him."

  Coertze absently fingered a scar on his forehead. "He's unreliable," he said. "He almost got me killed a couple of times during the war."

  I said, "No, we take Walker. I don't know for certain if three of us can pull it off, and with two it would be impossible. • Unless you want to let someone else in?"

  He smiled humourlessly. "That's not on -- not with you coming in. But Walker had better keep his big mouth shut from now on."

  "Perhaps it would be better if he stopped drinking," I suggested.

  "That's right," Coertze agreed. "Keep him off the pots. A few beers are all right, but keep him off the hard-tack. That'll be your job; I don't want to have anything to do with the rat."

  He blew smoke into the air, and said, "Now let's hear your proposition. If it's good, I'll come in with you. If I don't think it'll work, I won't touch it. In that case, you and Walker can do what you damn' well like, but if you go for that gold you'll have me to reckon with. I'm a bad bastard when I'm crossed."

  "So am I," I said.

  We grinned at each other. I liked this man, in a way. I wouldn't trust him any more than I'd trust Walker, but I had the feeling that while Walker would stick a knife in your back, Coertze would at least shoot you down from the front.

  "All right," he said. "Let's have it."

  "I'm not going to tell you -- not here in this room." I saw his expression and hurried on. "It isn't that I don't trust y ou, it's simply that you wouldn't believe it. You have to.see it -- and you have to see it in Cape Town."

  He looked at me for a long moment, then said, "All right, if that's the way you want it, I'll play along." He paused to think. "I've got a good job here, and I'm not going to give it up on your say-so. There's a long week-end coming up -- that gives me three days off. I'll fly down to Cape Town to see what you have to show me. If it's good, the job can go hang; if it isn't, then I've still got the job."

  "I'll pay your fare," I said.

  "I can afford it," he grunted.

  "If it doesn't pan out, I'll pay your fare," I insisted. "I wouldn't want you to be out of pocket."

  He looked up and grinned. "We'll get along," he said. "Where's that bottle?"

  As I was pouring another couple of drinks, he said, "You said you were going to Italy with Walker. What stopped you?"

  I took the clipping from my pocket and passed it to him. He read it and laughed. "That must have scared Walker. I was there at the time," he said unexpectedly.

  "In Italy?"

  He sipped the Scotch and nodded. "Yes; I saved my army back-pay and my gratuity and went back in '48. As soon as I got there all hell started popping about this trial. I read about it in the papers and you never heard such a lot of bull in your fife. Still, I thought I'd better lie low, so I had a lekker holiday with the Count."

  "With the Count?" I said in surprise.

  "Sure," he said. "I stay with the Count every time I go to Italy. I've been there four times now."

  I said, "How did you reckon to dispose of the gold once you got it out of Italy?"

  "I've got all that planned," he said confidently. "They're always wanting gold in India and you get a good price. You'd be surprised at the amount of gold smuggled out of this country in small packets that ends up in India."

  He was right -- India is the gold sink of the world -- but I said casually, "My idea is to go the other way -- to Tangier. It's an open port with an open gold market. You should be able to sell four tons of gold there quite easily -- and it's legal, too. No trouble with the police."

  He looked at me with respect. "I hadn't thought of that. I don't know much about this international finance."

  "-There's a snag," I said. "Tangier is closing up shop next •wear; it's being taken over by Morocco. Then it won't be a free port any more and the gold market will close."

  "When next year?"

  "April 19," I said. "Nine months from now. I think we'll fust about have enough time."

  He smiled. "I never thought about sellin
g the gold legally; I didn't think you could. I though the governments had got all that tied up. Maybe I should have met you sooner."

  "It wouldn't have done you any good," I said. "I hadn't the brains then that I have now."

  He laughed and we proceeded to kill the bottle.

  II

  Coertze came down to Cape Town two weeks later. I met him at the airport and drove him directly to the yard, where Walker was waiting.

  Walker seemed to shrink into himself when I told him that Coertze was visiting us. In spite of his braggart boasts, I could see he didn't relish close contact. If half of what he had said about Coertze was true, then he had every reason to be afraid.

  Come to think of it -- so had I!

  It must have been the first time that Coertze had been in a boatyard and he looked about him with keen interest and asked a lot of questions, nearly all of them sensible. At last, he said, "Well, what about it?"

  I took them down to the middle slip where Jimmy Murphy's Estralita was waiting to be drawn up for an overhaul. "That's a sailing yacht," I said. "A 15-tonner. What would you say her draft is -- I mean, how deep is she in the water?"

  Coertze looked her over and then looked up at the tall mast. "She'll need to be deep to counter-balance that lot," he said. "But I don't know how much. I don't know anything about boats."

  Considering he didn't know anything about boats, it was a very sensible answer.

  Her draft is six feet in normal trim," I said. "She's drawing less now because a lot of gear has been taken out of her."

  His eyes narrowed. "I'd have thought it would be more than that," he said. "What happens when the wind blows hard on the sails? Won't she tip over?"

  This was going well and Coertze was on the ball. I said, "I have a boat like this just being built, another 15-tonner. Come and have a look at her."

  I led the way up to the shed where Sanford was being built and Coertze followed, apparently content that I was leading up to a point. Walker tagged on behind.

  I had pressed to get Sanford completed and she was ready for launching as soon as the glass-fibre sheathing was applied and the interior finished.

  Coertze looked up at her. "They look bloody big out of the water," he commented.

  I smiled. That was the usual lay reaction. "Come aboard," I said.

  He was impressed by the spaciousness he found below and commented favourably on the way things were arranged, "Did you design all this?" he asked.

  I nodded.

  "You could live in here, all right." he said, inspecting the galley.

  "You could -- and you will," I said. "This is the boat in which we're going to take four tons of gold out of Italy."

  He looked surprised and then he frowned. "Where are you going to put it?"

  I said, "Sit down and I'll tell you something about sailing boats you don't know." Coertze sat uncomfortably on the edge of the starboard settee which had no mattress as yet, and waited for me to explain myself.

  "This boat displaces -- weighs, that is -- ten tons, and . . ."

  Walker broke in. "I thought you said she was a 15-tonner."

  "That's Thames measure -- yacht measure. Her displacement is different,"

  Coertze looked at Walker. "Shut up and let the man speak." He turned to -me. "If the boat weighs ten tons and you add another four tons, she'll be pretty near sinking, won't she? And where are you going to put it? It can't be out in the open where the cops can see it."

  I said patiently, "I said I'd tell you something about sailing boats that you didn't know. Now, listen -- about forty per cent of the weight of any sailing boat is ballast to keep her the right way up when the wind starts to press on those sails."

  I tapped the cabin sole with my foot. "Hanging on the bottom of this boat is a bloody great piece of lead weighing precisely four tons."

  Coertze looked at me incredulously, a dawning surmise in his eyes. I said, "Come on, I'll show you."

  We went outside and I showed them the lead ballast keel. I said, "All this will be covered up next week because the boat will be sheathed to keep out the marine borers."

  Coertze was squatting on his heels looking at the keel. "This is it," he said slowly. "This is it. The gold will be hidden under water -- built in as part of a boat." He began to laugh, and after a while Walker joined in. I began to laugh, too, and the walls of the shed resounded.

  Coertze sobered suddenly. "What's the melting point of lead?" he asked abruptly.

  I knew what was coming. "Four-fifty degrees centigrade," I said. "We've got a little foundry at the top of the yard where we pour the keels."

  "Ja," he said heavily. "You can melt lead on a kitchen stove. But gold melts at over a thousand centigrade and we'll need more than a kitchen stove for that. I know; melting gold is my job. Up at the smelting plant we've got bloody big furnaces."

  I said quickly, "I've thought of that one, too. Come up to the workshop -- I'll show you something else you've never seen before."

  In the workshop I opened a cupboard and said, "This gadget is brand new -- just been invented." I hauled out the contraption and put it on the bench. Coertze looked at it uncomprehendingly.

  There wasn't much to see; just a metal box, eighteen inches by fifteen inches by nine inches, on the top of which was an asbestos mat and a Heath Robinson arrangement of clamps.

  I said, "You've heard of instant coffee -- this is instant heat." I began to get the machine ready for operation. "It needs cooling water at at least five pounds an inch pressure -- that we get from an ordinary tap. It works on ordinary electric current, too, so you can set it up anywhere."

  I took the heart of the machine from a drawer. Again, it wasn't much to look at; just a piece of black cloth, three inches by four. I said, "Some joker in the States discovered how to spin and weave threads of pure graphite, and someone else discovered this application."

  I lifted the handle on top of the machine, inserted the graphite mat, and clamped it tight. Then I took a bit of metal and gave it to Coertze.

  He turned it in his fingers and said, "What is it?"

  "Just a piece of ordinary mild steel. But if this gadget can melt steel, it can melt gold. Right?"

  He nodded and looked at the machine dubiously -- it wasn't very impressive.

  I took the steel from his fingers and dropped it on to the graphite mat, then I gave Walker and Coertze a pair of welders' goggles each. "Better put these on: it gets a bit bright."

  We donned the goggles and I switched on the machine. It was a spectacular display. The graphite mat flashed instantly to a white heat and the piece of steel glowed red, then yellow and finally white. It seemed to slump like a bit of melting wax and in less than fifteen seconds it had melted into a little pool. All this to the accompaniment of a violent shower of sparks as the metal reacted with the air.

  I switched off the machine and removed my goggles. "We won't have all these fireworks when we melt gold; it doesn't oxidise as easily as iron."

  Coertze was staring at the machine. "How does it do that?"

  "Something like a carbon arc," I said. "You can get temperatures up to five thousand degrees centigrade. It's only intended to be a laboratory instrument, but I reckon we can melt two p ounds of gold at a time. With three of these gadgets and a hell of a lot of spare mats we should be able to work pretty fast."

  He said doubtfully, "If we can only pour a couple, of pounds at a time, the keel is going to be so full of cracks and flaws that I'm not sure it won't break under its own weight."

  "I've thought of that one, too," I said calmly. "Have you ever watched anyone pour reinforced concrete?"

  He frowned and then caught on, snapping his fingers.

  "We make the mould and put a mesh of wires inside," I said. "That'll hold it together."

  I showed him a model I had made, using fuse wire and candle wax, which he examined carefully. "You've done a hell of a lot of thinking about this," he said at last.

  "Somebody has to," I said. "Or that gold wil
l stay where it is for another fourteen years."

  He didn't like that because it made him appear stupid; but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He started to say something and bit it short, his face flushing red. Then he took a deep breath and said, "All right, you've convinced me. I'm in."

  Then I took a deep breath -- of relief.

  III

  That night we had a conference.

  I said, "This is the drill. Sanford -- my yacht -- will be ready for trials next week. As soon as the trials are over you two are going to learn how to sail under my instruction. In under four months from now we sail for Tangier."

  "Christ!" said Walker. "I don't know that I like the sound of that"

  "There's nothing to it," I said. "Hundreds of people are buzzing about the Atlantic these days. Hell, people have gone round the world in boats a quarter the size."

  I looked at Coertze. "This is going to take a bit of financing. Got any money?"

  "About a thousand," he admitted.

  "That gets tossed into the kitty," I said. "Along with my twenty-five thousand."

  "Magtig," he said. "That's a hell of a lot of money."

  "We'll need every penny of it," I said. "We might have to buy a small boatyard in Italy if that's the only way we can cast the keel in secrecy. Besides, I'm lending it to the firm of Walker, Coertze and Halloran at one hundred per cent interest. I want fifty thousand back before the three-way split begins. You can do the same with your thousand."

  "That sounds fair enough," agreed Coertze.

  I said, "Walker hasn't any money and once you've thrown your thousand in the kitty, neither have you. So I'm putting you both on my payroll. You've got to have your smokes and three squares a day while all this is going on."

  This bit of information perked Walker up considerably. Coertze merely nodded in confirmation. I looked hard at Walker. "And you stay off the booze or we drop you over the side. Don't forget that."

  He nodded sullenly.

  Coertze said, "Why are we going to Tangier first?"

  "We've got to make arrangements to remelt the gold into standard bars," I said. "I can't imagine any banker calmly taking a golden keel into stock. Anyway, that's for the future; right now I have to turn you into passable seamen -- we've got to get to the Mediterranean first."