The Intercom Conspiracy by Eric Ambler Read Free Book Online

self-styled ‘controller of a world-wide private spy network’ was marked by further brushes with authority, notably the State Department and the CIA. A harassed deputy director of that agency was once driven to describing the
Intercom
newsletter and its gadfly proprietor as ‘an international migraine headache airmailed weekly by a latter-day Titus Oates’.
    Jost passed the cutting back. He hid his disappointment behind a polite nod.
    ‘I had heard that Novak was dead,’ he said; ‘but the newsletter is controlled by this foundation, surely.’
    ‘That is what I thought,’ Brand replied; ‘but it is so exactly the sort of thing we had in mind, that, with my time running out, I thought it was worthwhile to make further inquiries. What I found was interesting. The foundation is run as sort of a hobby by three wealthy, rather stupid men who think they are fighting world communism. They subsidise the making of documentary films, recorded radio and television programmes for free distribution, and the writing of unreadable but expensive-looking books and pamphlets. They pay the wages of a staff working on anti-communist research, whatever that may be, and they retain a firm of public-relations counsellors. They paid Novak a salary and expenses for his work as organiser of the foundation. But they do not own the
Intercom
newsletter. That was Novak’s personal property. He started it, after he resigned from the American Army, with money left to him by his wife. He used up most of that inheritance.
Intercom
lost money for several years, and, in spite of its circulation and notoriety since, it has never done better than break even. He had his army pension, of course, but, until he met these rich idiots who backed the foundation, most of his income came from lecturing.’
    ‘Then who owns
Intercom
now?’
    Brand gave his friend a sidelong look. ‘I hope that we do.’
    Jost drew a deep breath. ‘You must forgive me,’ he said. ‘For a moment there I doubted.’
    ‘I know.’ Brand smiled. ‘I have not often surprised you. I was tempted to try. I say I
hope
it is ours. It should be by next week if all goes well. The position is this. Intercom Publishing Enterprises A.G. is a Swiss corporation registered in Zug and directed, in order to conform with the Swiss code, by a Swiss national. He is a lawyer in Bâle. The shares, ninety-seven per cent of which were owned by Novak, are now part of his estate. This goes to a married daughter living in Baltimore in the United States.Through our cut-out I have made an offer for the shares of ten thousand dollars. Since the only assets are the lease of an office suite in Geneva, one Addressograph and two duplicating machines, two typewriters and some highly questionable goodwill, ten thousand is about twice what the shares are worth. I heard two days ago that the daughter in Baltimore is likely to accept the offer. Pending confirmation of her acceptance, the
Intercom
lawyer has undertaken to see that the Geneva staff salaries are paid and that publication continues.’
    ‘Has Novak’s death not affected it at all? Who is writing the thing now?’
    ‘The same man who has been writing it for the past four years. His name is Theodore Carter. Novak was never much more than a figurehead. He always had to have someone to do the actual work.’
    ‘But what about the material? Where does that come from? Crude invention may account for some of it, but there is much circumstantial stuff. Even
Intercom
must have sources. What is this “private spy network” he boasted about?’
    Brand grinned. ‘Paper mills,’ he said.
    Jost grimaced sourly. ‘Paper mills’ was the term they and their colleagues used to describe the innumerable political warfare and propaganda groups engaged in feeding misinformation to the international news-gathering agencies. Some paper mills had government subsidies, others were financed by émigré organisations and separatist movements; a few of the smaller,