18 - The Unfair Fare Affair Read Online Free
Author: Peter Leslie
cross the neck of land dividing the canal from the Ijsselmeer, and pick up Willem there."
"But why should they bother to cross an inland sea, traverse an island, and come back to the mainland again when they could just as well have gone around the edge of the sea in the first place?"
"Simply because of the relative danger, I guess. A man without papers, a man on the run, is a natural target in a seaport, on the streets of a capital city, on the main roads—most of which are patrolled by police. But if you take him to a desolate stretch of country that's underpopulated and put him in touch with the people who can give him papers there , well, you're halving the chances of detection right away, aren't you?"
"I thought strangers were supposed to stand out even more in country areas," Waverly objected.
"If they're going to stay, to live there, sure. But not passing through. With a bit of luck, nobody'll see them at all."
"You may be right." Waverly went back to his desk and skimped into his chair. He tossed the unlit pipe onto a pile of folders. "In any case, we shall soon know. Are you done with that Hawaiian forgery thing yet?"
"Not quite. We have to make a digest of the depositions and—"
"Hand it over to Rodrigues," Waverly interrupted.
"To Rodrigues? I'm afraid I don't quite—" Solo began.
"He's capable of handling it, isn't he?" the head of Section One demanded irritably. "All the stuff's in, isn't it?"
"Well, yes. Slade and Miss Dancer have to file a report from Manila, but otherwise everything's there. The report'll be in tonight in any case."
"Excellent. Hand it over, then."
"Very well, Mr. Waverly. Did... did you have some thing else, something urgent, for me?" Solo inquired, his dark brows raised in puzzlement.
"Yes, I did," his chief said crisply. "I want you to fly to Amsterdam tonight and find out all about Willem…"
Chapter 3
A Question of Etiquette!
NAPOLEON SOLO was incredulous. "You can't be serious!" he said in dismay. "You don't mean... officially? Not as an assignment... for the Command?"
"Of course I'm serious," Waverly said testily. "And for whom else would it be an assignment, if not for the Command?"
Solo gulped. Perhaps the old man was going out of his mind. Maybe the blow on his head had been harder than anybody realized. He would have to play it very cool if he was to prevent the head of Section One from making a fool of himself.
"Mr. Waverly," he said seriously, "we go into action if there's a possibility that the balance of world power may be threatened. We can operate secretly within the boundaries of member states if there's a chance their stability is endangered—in a currency coup, for example. We can work supranationally, when an international conspiracy such as THRUSH poisons or weakens the relationship between states."
"Well?"
"Well... well, surely... I mean... Well, we couldn't go into Holland to investigate this little nest of smugglers or whatever it is. We wouldn't have the right to."
"Why not?"
"Why, because... look—I understand you're sore at being roughed up by these characters. It's natural to want to hit back. And our conversation of a few minutes ago was an interesting exercise in deduction. But Mr. Waverly, that's a very different thing from ordering an official investigation by the whole U.N.C.L.E. apparatus! Surely a setup such as we envisaged—even if we were right about it—would be entirely an affair for the Dutch and German police departments working in liaison? Perhaps for their counterintelligence or special services. At the very most for Interpol."
"But not for us, you think?"
"Well, good heavens no!" Solo burst out desperately. "We have no mandate for that sort of thing. We'd be interfering in the internal affairs of a member country. If we did it with out their knowing and got found out, there'd be hell to pay! And I could never justify asking for their help, on the other hand, if they themselves hadn't called us in. You
"But why should they bother to cross an inland sea, traverse an island, and come back to the mainland again when they could just as well have gone around the edge of the sea in the first place?"
"Simply because of the relative danger, I guess. A man without papers, a man on the run, is a natural target in a seaport, on the streets of a capital city, on the main roads—most of which are patrolled by police. But if you take him to a desolate stretch of country that's underpopulated and put him in touch with the people who can give him papers there , well, you're halving the chances of detection right away, aren't you?"
"I thought strangers were supposed to stand out even more in country areas," Waverly objected.
"If they're going to stay, to live there, sure. But not passing through. With a bit of luck, nobody'll see them at all."
"You may be right." Waverly went back to his desk and skimped into his chair. He tossed the unlit pipe onto a pile of folders. "In any case, we shall soon know. Are you done with that Hawaiian forgery thing yet?"
"Not quite. We have to make a digest of the depositions and—"
"Hand it over to Rodrigues," Waverly interrupted.
"To Rodrigues? I'm afraid I don't quite—" Solo began.
"He's capable of handling it, isn't he?" the head of Section One demanded irritably. "All the stuff's in, isn't it?"
"Well, yes. Slade and Miss Dancer have to file a report from Manila, but otherwise everything's there. The report'll be in tonight in any case."
"Excellent. Hand it over, then."
"Very well, Mr. Waverly. Did... did you have some thing else, something urgent, for me?" Solo inquired, his dark brows raised in puzzlement.
"Yes, I did," his chief said crisply. "I want you to fly to Amsterdam tonight and find out all about Willem…"
Chapter 3
A Question of Etiquette!
NAPOLEON SOLO was incredulous. "You can't be serious!" he said in dismay. "You don't mean... officially? Not as an assignment... for the Command?"
"Of course I'm serious," Waverly said testily. "And for whom else would it be an assignment, if not for the Command?"
Solo gulped. Perhaps the old man was going out of his mind. Maybe the blow on his head had been harder than anybody realized. He would have to play it very cool if he was to prevent the head of Section One from making a fool of himself.
"Mr. Waverly," he said seriously, "we go into action if there's a possibility that the balance of world power may be threatened. We can operate secretly within the boundaries of member states if there's a chance their stability is endangered—in a currency coup, for example. We can work supranationally, when an international conspiracy such as THRUSH poisons or weakens the relationship between states."
"Well?"
"Well... well, surely... I mean... Well, we couldn't go into Holland to investigate this little nest of smugglers or whatever it is. We wouldn't have the right to."
"Why not?"
"Why, because... look—I understand you're sore at being roughed up by these characters. It's natural to want to hit back. And our conversation of a few minutes ago was an interesting exercise in deduction. But Mr. Waverly, that's a very different thing from ordering an official investigation by the whole U.N.C.L.E. apparatus! Surely a setup such as we envisaged—even if we were right about it—would be entirely an affair for the Dutch and German police departments working in liaison? Perhaps for their counterintelligence or special services. At the very most for Interpol."
"But not for us, you think?"
"Well, good heavens no!" Solo burst out desperately. "We have no mandate for that sort of thing. We'd be interfering in the internal affairs of a member country. If we did it with out their knowing and got found out, there'd be hell to pay! And I could never justify asking for their help, on the other hand, if they themselves hadn't called us in. You
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