"Alistair MacLean - Floodgate" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maclean Alistair)

De Graaf said: 'Let's summarize briefly what we know. It has to be brief because we know virtually damn all. Three identical messages were received yesterday afternoon, one to a newspaper, one to the airport authorities - in effect, Mr de Jong -and one to the Rijkswaterstaat of the Ministry of Transport and Public Works.' He paused briefly and looked across at a burly, dark-bearded man who was placidly polluting the atmosphere with the smoke from what appeared to be a very ancient pipe. 'Ah! Of course. Mr van der Kuur. The Rijkswaterstaat Deputy Projects Engineer. How long to clear up this mess?'

Van der Kuur removed his pipe. 'We have already started. We seal off the breach in the canal with metal sheeting - a temporary measure only, of course, but sufficient. After that -well, we do have the best and biggest pumps in the world. A routine job.'

'How long?'

'Thirty-six hours. At the outside.' There was something very reassuring about der Kuur's calm and matter-of-fact approach. 'Provided of course that we get a degree of co-operation from the tugboat men, barge men and private owners whose boats are at the moment resting on the mud at the bottom of the canal. The boats that settled on an even keel are no problem: those which have fallen over on their sides could well fill up. I suppose self-interest will ensure co-operation.'

De Graaf said: 'Any loss of life in the canal? Or anybody hurt?' 'One of my inspectors reports a considerable degree of high blood pressure among the skippers and crews of the stranded craft. That apart, no one was harmed.'

'Thank you. The messages came from a man or a group signing themselves FFF - it was not explained what those initials were meant to stand for. The intention, it was said, was to demonstrate that they could flood any part of our country whenever and wherever they wished by blowing up a strategically placed dyke and that accordingly they intended to give a small scale demonstration that would endanger no one and cause as little inconvenience as possible.'

'As little inconvenience! Small scale.' De Jong was back at his fist clenching. 'I wonder what the devil they would regard as a large scale demonstration?'

De Graaf nodded. 'Quite. They said the target was Schiphol and that the flooding would come at ix a.m. Not one minute before eleven, not one minute after. As we know, the breach was blown at precisely i i a.m. At police headquarters, quite frankly, this was regarded as a hoax - after all, who in his right mind would want to turn Schiphol airport into an inland sea? Perhaps they saw some symbolic significance in their choice -after all, the Dutch navy defeated the Spanish navy at this very spot when the present Schiphol really was a sea. Hoax or not, we took no chances. The canal was the obvious choice for any saboteur so we had both sides of the north bank of the canal closely examined. There were no signs of any kind of disturbance that could have indicated a preparation for the blowing of the dyke. So we assumed it was some kind of practical joke.' De Graaf shrugged, palms uplifted. 'As we know too late nothing was further from the mind or minds of the FFF than fun and games.' He turned to the man seated on his left side. 'Peter, you've had time to think. Have you any idea - sorry, gentlemen, sorry. Some of you may not know my colleague here. Lieutenant Peter van Effen. Lieutenant van Effen is my senior detective lieutenant. He is also an explosives expert and, for his sins, the head of the city's bomb disposal squad. Have you figured out yet how it was done?'

Peter van Effen was an unremarkable figure. Like his boss, he was just over medium height, uncommonly broad and looked suspiciously as if he were running to fat. He was in his mid or late thirties, had thick dark hair, a dark moustache and an almost permanent expression of amiability. He didn't look like a senior detective lieutenant, in fact he didn't even look like a policeman. Many people, including quite a number of people in Dutch prisons, tended to take van Effen's easy-going affability at its face value.

'It didn't take much figuring, sir. Anything's easy with hindsight. But even had we had foresight there was nothing we could have done about it anyway. We'll almost certainly find that two boats were tied up bow to stem alongside the north bank. Unusual, but there's no law, say, against an engine breakdown and a sympathetic owner of a passing vessel stopping to lend a hand. I should imagine that we'll find that those boats were almost certainly stolen because there is traffic on the canal and any habitual waterway user would have been able to identify them. 'The two boats would have been very close or even overlapping, leaving a clear, hidden area where scuba divers could; took place during dusk or night-time, as I'm sure it did, they would have bright lights on deck and when you have those on, anything below gunwale level is in deep shadow. They would have had a drilling machine, something like the ones you use on oil-rigs only, of course, this one would have been on a very small scale and operated horizontally not vertically. It would have been electrically powered, either by batteries or a generator, because the exhausts of a petrol or diesel plant make a great deal of noise. For an expert, and there are literally hundreds of experts operating on or around the North Sea, this would have been a childishly simple operation. They would drill through to, say, a foot of the other side of the dyke - we may be sure they would have taken very careful measurements beforehand - withdraw the bit and insert a waterproof canvas tube packed with explosives, maybe just plain old-fashioned dynamite or TNT, although a real expert would have gone for amatol beehives. They would then attach an electrical timing device, nothing elaborate, an old-fashioned kitchen alarm clock will do very well, plug the hole with mud and gravel - not that there would be a chance in a million of anyone ever looking there - and sail away.'

'I could almost believe, Mr van Effen, that you masterminded this operation yourself,' van der Kuur said. 'So that's how it was done.' 'It's how I would have done it and within the limits of a slight variation that's how they did it. There is no other way.' Van Effen looked at de Grad. 'We're up against a team of experts and the person directing them is no clown. They know how to steal boats, they know how to handle them, they know where to steal drilling equipment, they know how to use that equipment and they're obviously at home with explosives. No wild-eyed, slogan-chanting cranks among this lot: they're professionals. I've asked head office to notify us immediately if they receive any complaints from factories, wholesalers or retailers of the theft of any equipment from the manufacturers or distributors of drilling equipment. Also to notify us of the theft of any vessels from that area.' 'And beyond that?' de Graaf said.

'Nothing. We have no leads.'

De Graaf nodded and looked down at the paper he held in his hands. 'That message from the mysterious FFF. No indication whatsoever as to the reason behind this threatened - now actual - sabotage. just a warning that nobody should be at ground level at i x a.m. this morning and that all planes should be flown out yesterday afternoon or evening to adjacent airfields as the needless destruction of property formed no part of their plans. Very considerate of them, I must say. And even more considerate, Jon, was the phone call you got at nine o'clock this morning urging you to evacuate all those planes immediately. But, of course, we all knew it was a hoax, so we paid no attention. Would you recognize that voice again, Jon?'

'Not a chance-. It was a woman's voice, a young woman and speaking in English. All young women speaking English sound the same to me.' Fist clenched, de Jong gently thumped the table before him. 'They don't even hint at the reason for carrying out this - this monstrous action. What have they achieved by this action? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I repeat that any person or persons who behave in this fashion have to be mentally unbalanced.'

Van Effen said: 'I'm sorry, sir, I disagree. I do agree with what the Colonel said on the roof - they're almost certainly as sane as any one. No one who is mentally unbalanced could have carried out this operation. And they're not, as I said, wild-eyed terrorists throwing bombs in crowded market-places. In two separate warnings they did their best to ensure that neither human lives nor property would be put at risk. That was not the behaviour of irresponsible people.'

'And who, then, was responsible for the deaths of the three people who lost their lives when that Fokker Friendship cartwheeled and crashed on take-off?'

'The saboteurs, indirectly. One could equally well say that you were, also indirectly. It might be argued you might at least have considered the possibility that the threat was not a hoax, taken even the most remote possibility into account and refused permission for the Fokker to take off at exactly i i a.m. But that permission was given, personally I understand, by you. It is as certain as certain can be that the saboteurs had carefully checked landing and take-off schedules and made sure that there were no planes either taking off or landing at or near that time. That Fokker was the private plane of a German industrialist and was therefore not listed on the scheduled departures. I suggest, Mr de Jong, that it's futile to ascribe the blame for those three deaths to anyone. Sheer bad luck, an unfortunate coincidence in timing, an act of God, call it what you like. There was nothing planned, nothing calculated, no motive behind those deaths. It was nobody's fault.' De Jong had substituted finger-drumming for table thumping. 'If those evil men were as considerate as you say, why didn't they postpone the explosion when they saw people boarding the plane?' 'Because we don't know that they were in a position to see anything and, even if they were, they were almost certainly unable to do anything about it. Had the explosives been activated by a radio-controlled device, sure, they could have stopped it. But, as I told you, I'm pretty certain it was an electrical timer and to de-activate that they would have had to assemble a boat, scuba gear and diver - and all in broad daylight - in a matter of minutes. In the time available, that would have been impossible.' There was a faint but unmistakable sheen of sweat on de Jong's forehead. 'They could have phoned a warning.'

Van Effen looked at de Jong for a long moment, then said: 'How much attention did you pay to the previous warning this morning?' De Jong made no reply.

'And you've just said that the saboteurs have achieved nothing, absolutely nothing, by their action. I know you're upset, sir, and it seems unfair to press the point, but can you really be so naive as to believe that? They've already made a considerable achievement. They have achieved the beginnings of a climate of fear and uncertainty, a climate that can only worsen with the passing of the hours. If they've struck once, apparently without a blind bit of motivation, are the chances not high that they win strike again? If they do, when? If they do, where? And, above 0, there's the why. What overpowering reason do they have to behave as they do?'He looked at de Graaf. 'Soften up the victim but keep him in suspense as to your purpose in behaving in this fashion. It's a novel form of blackmail and I see no reason why it shouldn't work. I have the strong feeling that we are going to hear from the FFF in the very near future. Not to state the reasons for acting as they do, certainly not to make any specific demands. Dear me, no. Not that. That's not the way you conduct psychological warfare. One turns the wheel that stretches the rack very, very slowly over a calculated period of time. Gives the victim time to ponder more deeply about the hopelessness of his situation while his morale sinks lower and lower. At least that's how I believe they operated in the Middle Ages - when using the actual instrument, of course.' De Jong said sourly: 'You seem to know a lot about the workings of the criminal mind.'

'A little.' van Effen smiled agreeably. 'I wouldn't presume to tell you how to run an airport.'

'And what am I to understand from that?'

'Mr van Effen just means that a cobbler should stick to his last.' De Graaf made a placatory gesture with his hand. 'He's the author of the now established text-book on the psychology of the criminal mind. Never read it myself. So, Peter. You seem sure the FFF will contact us very soon, but not to tell us about themselves or their objectives. Tell us what? The where and the when their next - ah - demonstration?' 'What else?'

A profound and rather gloomy silence was ended by the entrance of a waiter who approached. de Jong. 'Telephone, sir. Is there a Lieutenant van Effen here?'

'Me.' Van Effen followed the waiter from the canteen and returned within a minute and addressed himself to de Graaf.

'Duty sergeant. Apparently two men reported their boats missing some hours ago. Pleasure boat owners. The sergeant who took their complaint didn't think it necessary to notify our department. Quite right, of course. The boats have now been recovered. One, it would seem, was taken by force. The boats are in our hands. I told them to take a couple of finger-print men aboard, return the boats to the owners but not to allow the owners aboard. If you can spare the time, sir, we can interview the two owners after we leave here: they live less than a kilometre from here.'