The Golden Keel / The Vivero Letter by Desmond Bagley

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 prove 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 ofcheating 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 seem 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,