‘What was that?’ Kipsel asked.
‘I sent my nephew to Moscow.’
‘Just like that?’
‘He’s been before. Popov was the Russians’ man here. Bennie was our man there.’
‘Bennie?’
‘My nephew. A bright boy, Craddock. A few years ago I was happy to make him a director of Consolidated Holdings. He’s been running missions to Moscow for years.’
‘What happened in Moscow?’ Kipsel asked.
‘He was arrested the moment he stepped off the plane.’
‘You shopped him,’ declared Kipsel wonderingly.
‘It was my duty,’ said Himmelfarber. ‘I had to give Moscow something to hold. He was a kind of deposit against the safe return of Popov. We knew it was necessary.’
‘We?’ said Kipsel.
‘Those of us who will seize the chance of a change in our country. Real change! Consider, Ronald, our previous history. Once the Regime consisted of men who believed themselves chosen by God to bring light to a dark place. They were known as the Dark Men, or the Old Guard. In time they were replaced by a new breed, the so-called Men of Light, or New Men. Now the New Men believed also that God had chosen them, but they also believed that the country couldn’t be protected by faith alone. They must be protected by rocket launchers and useful business contacts as well as the proper deployment of troops on the borders. Of course the New Men are no longer frightened of the outside world. They want to carry the fight to the enemy, they want to meet the world and beat it. They refuse to see the options closing one by one. They want to get out and do things. It was the New Men who were behind Bubé’s foreign tours, and I’m not just talking about the European tour that got all the publicity, the six capitals in five days, or whatever it was. No, I’m talking about the tours, the secret tours that have been going on for years, the clandestine diplomacy on which the President has been engaged for almost a decade now. Why, if I told you the number of countries he had visited you’d be absolutely amazed. Then there’s also been a publicity campaign mounted by the Department of Communications and the quite stunning work which Trudy Yssel has done, buying into, buying up, and buying off opinion makers in the West. I tell you there’s not a place from the Vatican to the White House where Trudy, yes little Trudy Yssel from the back-of-beyond, a poor little country girl who went to school barefoot, is not welcomed and fêted. Fêted! Do you see the nature of things? Do I make myself clear? Do you see the chances to which I refer? The old ways have gone, or at least are going and others are being adapted. Yes, of course we still believe in God. Yes, of course, we still believe that under certain circumstances a platoon ambushed must fight to the last man for the glory of the country and to add substance to the ancient belief that the entire country would do so, in need. Yet gradually the realisation has come about, that what we need is not God and bombs, though they may be very useful, but gold. And we have it! By God, we have it and we use it. Hell, can either of you imagine what it’s like to turn on your TV and see one of our warlike black presidents in one of the states to the north of us threatening to blast us off the map of Africa and know that not twelve hours before the same guy has been pouring you a whisky and soda in the VIP’s guest-house and inquiring after your wife and kids? That’s progress! The Regime sees the options and uses them, that’s all,’ said Himmelfarber, ‘and so do I.’
‘You’re saying it’s possible to do a deal with the New Men?’ Blanchaille asked.
Himmelfarber gave the wolfish smile of one who has scented the approaching kill. ‘I don’t know about dealing with the Regime. That comes later. But sure, I’ll deal for them. I already did. More than once. Let me give you one example. The Regime has a lot of trouble securing various supplies which we regard as essential. A little guy from the Department of Commerce comes to see me. Can I suggest a way for our country to acquire certain strategic supplies overseas? Well that’s a bit of a problem because you see foreign countries don’t exactly like the idea of penetration by South African interests, still less by South African Government agencies. So what did we do at Consolidated Holdings to resolve this difficulty? Well, we did our buying using a group of Panamanian companies which could not be traced back to us. And having bought our way in to certain target industries abroad we left the local management structures very largely intact and operated through a series of interlocking boards. This was a wise move because it’s always better not to disturb the people on the ground. But since you have your own directors in there and these directors are linked, and controlled, say from your New York office, you maintain a fairly useful oversight of your operation. Perhaps you might buy a forest in Scotland, because we need pit props in good supply, or a British insurance company, or take over American interests in coal, copper, uranium and so on. Look, believe it or not, and I’d probably be shot if anybody knew I’d told you, but so vital does the Regime consider this programme of strategic acquirements that they’re investing millions in its long-term strategy for buying up or buying into key interests abroad. Somebody has to do it for them.’
‘But you’d still consider yourself an opponent of the Regime?’ Kipsel asked.
‘Greater opposer is there none,’ said Himmelfarber, directing his eyes heavenward. ‘My family has opposed this Regime and all its neolithic predecessors. Consolidated Holdings is in the forefront of the struggle to reform the labour laws, electrify the black townships, promote the inter-racial arts and encourage more black mothers to breastfeed. Yessir, we are opponents! But as opponents the question we must ask ourselves, if we are serious, is do we merely wish to condemn the Regime, or do we want to destroy it? Look, I work with the Government on certain ventures, but that doesn’t make me a Government man. I also make donations in an indirect fashion to the Azanian Liberation Front — but that doesn’t make me a guerrilla. It’s really just a question, as I say, of exploring all the options. This is now Government policy. And believe you me it’s going to sink the bastards! Already it has started. Yssel and Kuiker are gone. When you get people using a lot of money, travelling, living well, it’s perhaps not surprising that they begin to acquire expensive tastes. They start enjoying certain wines, they become fascinated with a house with a particular view. These things happen. As for President Bubé, I’ve no reason to doubt that he’s abroad because he’s ill and he’s seeking treatment, as the reports say. As to the rumours — well, I also know that when gold sales were switched from London to Zurich a number of Swiss dealers competed for President Bubé’s friendship and co-operation and made concrete signals of their gratitude when he was able to help them. But before you jump to conclusions let’s consider that in a way perhaps his motives might have been good. According to the rumours we hear, any money that President Bubé may have acquired has been set aside as a kind of insurance fund against the day when, possibly for military reasons, the Regime finds it cannot any longer operate safely from home base and they have to set up somewhere abroad. In other words, Bubé has set aside funds for the establishment of the Government in exile. Now why should this be a scandal? Surely it’s not an ignoble gesture. It might even be quite sensible. You see what forces in the end will destroy them? They will smash on their own logic.’
‘Yes,’ said Kipsel. There was a strange light in his eye. ‘I follow you now. What you’re saying is that if you are genuinely committed to exploring all options, then among the options you’re going to have to consider is the one that has you disappearing down the plug hole.’