Kek Huuygens, Smuggler by Fish Robert L.;

Author:Fish, Robert L.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road

Kek Huuygens paused and smiled at me. “Of course,” he said apologetically, “now that I’ve explained everything, you can see the wonderful scheme, and my subsequent plan, so you can now understand why I was forced to ask for your promise of secrecy …”

“I see nothing of the sort!” I’m afraid my voice rose a bit. “I do not see the scheme, nor do I see your plan, nor do I understand the need for my silence! As a matter of fact.…”

He held up a hand to stop the flow of my language and looked at me almost with pity. “Well,” he said, “have another brandy and you soon will.” He called over the waiter, and then looked at me again and shrugged for my stupidity. “Prosit,” he said, holding up his glass.

Well (Huuygens continued, finally putting his glass to one side), the two weeks passed. Far too slowly for my liking, but pass they did. Each evening, Stavros would return from his office and I could tell from the look in his eyes that the figures were bearing out my promise that the losses would stop. But, being the stubborn man he is, he could not bring himself to admit that I was shortly due for a check. Once or twice, I could have sworn that he was on the verge of claiming that the losses had not stopped, but despite his cupidity, he was not downright stupid, and something must have told him this would not have worked for an instant.

In any event, two weeks from that Saturday, I went into the library and pulled a chair up to face him across his desk. “Well?” I asked quietly.

He sighed. “The losses have stopped,” he admitted, albeit with hesitancy. “I shall draw you a check in the amount agreed upon.” He stared at me. “And in return, you will tell me why you will not tell me …” He could not go on; it was evident that he was under a certain amount of stress.

“Certainly,” I said equably. “I will not describe the scheme to you because I have discovered—and stopped—a nefarious means of dishonesty which, were it ever bruited about, could lead to similar attempts by others in supermarkets. In your own chain of supermarkets, to be exact. Attempts, I might mention, that I guarantee would be equally successful. At great cost to you. And since you are no fool …”

Stavros stared at me with growing knowledge of what I was saying. “I am the worst kind of fool,” he said at last, bitterly. “I should have known better than to say one word to you about this. You, of all people!” He shoved the papers on the desk away from him with an angry motion, as if they somehow represented the dishonesty he was always so ardently combatting. His eyes came up. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well,” I said in a reasonable tone of voice, “I thought that ten thousand francs a week would be ample payment for seeing that the scheme is not repeated in any of the other stores.

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