Chapter 9

While Rudi Lessing talked to Inspector Schultz about his daughter and her friends’ abduction, Peter and Franz went to their favorite place, the caverns, to check the accumulated items in their paper bag. They were curious if they made a hit or whether they just ended up with a load of useless information. The slave runners had three passports that cleared them for Austria and Italy, and all three were Arabs of Tunisian nationality. That was nothing new. Their billfolds contained large amounts of Austrian, Italian, and Tunisian money in large bills. Peter kept the money — it will be useful if they’ll take a trip. Franz checked three guns, all made in Spain. Surprisingly, one Arab had a docking slip from Genoa, Italy. This seaport hugs the Italian Riviera, and it is the principal seaport of Italy. The effects of the last war-damaged it wrongly, but the Italians were still rebuilding it with American dollars’ help. Engineers redesigned the docks for a combination of larger and smaller boats. The city is also a commercial and industrial center. Manufactures of iron and steel, chemicals, petroleum, and airplanes use this international port. With all these activities, it was an ideal location for Fath Abu Bakr, and now Adil, to use it as a stepping point from Europe to Tunisia. Because he used his boats, it was expedient for him to transport white females to Africa’s northern part.

Franz picked the docking slip off the table and studied it:

Boat owner: Fath Abu Bakr

Type boat:40 ft twin-engine cruiser

Dock number: C67

He placed the sheet in front of Peter and said, “We should drive down there and check out the boat. What do you say, Peter?”

“Sounds like a good idea,” said Peter. “By the way, let’s look at the Arab’s billfold again. Who knows what else he may have in there.” Franz took the billfold and flipped through it when he found a picture of an attractive Arabian female, and she wrote something in Arabic in the back. In the last compartment, he found a yellow slip. He slid it to Peter. “Look at this, Peter.” Peter checked it turned and twisted it, and he concluded that this is another docking slip.

“Do you know what that is?”

“No, I don’t. That’s why I gave it to you,” said Franz perturbed.

“It’s another docking slip. For Porto Cervo. Translated from Spanish, it means Service Port.”

“Where the hell is Porto Cervo?” asked Franz.

“I’m not sure. How do you expect me to know everything?” Peter rose and got a thick atlas of the European continent from the mildewed bookshelf, standing in the corner. He took an old towel and wiped off the dust from the front cover of the atlas. Then he checked the index and found that Porto Cervo rests on the northeast coast of Sardinia. Then he read from the book, “Porto Cervo is the busiest and best-equipped port in Sardinia. It has over 700 docks, all with full mooring services. And it is situated on the famous coast of Smeralda.” Peter paused and looked at the map again. “I found it. The island of Sardinia is halfway between Genoa and Port El Kantaoui. That makes sense. It must be a stopover.” After Peter finished reading, the friends were silent, but their minds were active. After a while, Franz asked, “Are we going on a trip?” Peter leaned back in his chair and looked at the rocky ceiling. This assignment is now taking on an international flavor. To be successful, he has to organize it well and put the proper resources in place.

“Yes, Franz, I believe we are going on a trip, but first, I need to talk to Sam. He has to get us a cruiser and funds if we are going to Port El Kantaoui.”

The following Saturday, Peter placed an ad in the paper, and he signed it with his code name Gregory. He was concerned. Will he get a response?

Sam

I need to talk.

Gregory

On the same Saturday, Sam called Peter, with a distorted voice. “What do you need, Gregory?” Peter was surprised to hear from Sam so soon.

“Well, Sam, this assignment branched out. I have a lead in Tunisia. I’m going to need a seaworthy cruiser, docked in Genoa, Italy. And I could use advanced funds, for passports, docking fees, gasoline, hotel rooms, and amenities. By the way, did you get my latest headcount?”

“I got your headcount. The money will be delivered the usual way — Box 6699. I’ll talk to my contact about a cruiser and funds. Anything else, Gregory?”

“No, nothing else. If I need anything else, I’ll call. Thanks.” Both cradled their phone. It surprised Peter that the conversation went well. Will he get a cruiser to sail to Tunisia? Only time will tell.

Peter decided to put the hunt for the Arabian slave traffickers temporarily in the background and catch up on his gunsmith work. Franz has six repair jobs waiting for him. The other four gunsmiths are busy fabricating shotguns and rifles. New orders are coming in from Austria, Switzerland, Germany, and Italy. And four days ago, he received a request from Hellis’ Gun Store on Edgeware Rd., in London, England. A Lord needs his Holland-Holland, 12 gauge, shotgun repaired. One of his gunsmiths needs to replace both action springs, and the left sear won’t hold the left hammer in position, while the hunter discharged the right barrel. That means that both barrels go off when the Lord fires the right barrel, nearly separating his arm from his shoulder socket, while the Lord lands on his skinny ass, resulting in a few of his choice, English swear words.

Why is Peter’s business growing so fast?

It grew because of his motto.

Deliver quality products on time and at a reasonable cost.

The word is spreading. Peter has a large sign in front of his shop:

Peter Benner

International Gunsmiths, Inc.

Also, he advertises in all major newspapers and hunting magazines in Europe. Peter has to make a decision. He went to the caverns with a liter of cider, two glasses and took his wife along.

“I can’t keep up with the workload, and I can’t afford to fall behind, dear. What should I do?” Hilde sat back in her chair and took a sip of the cider. She shivered.

“Turn on the heat, Peter,” said Hilde to buy time. Peter reached for the heater and flicked the switch in the up position. Both stared at the heater coils, turning slowly red, radiating heat waves and generating a low-frequency sound. Hilde saw the radiation emanating from the heater coils. She moved her hands closer to the heater to warm them. Then she rubbed them slowly and started, “I know what to do, Peter, but I’m not convinced that you’ll agree.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I think that you should hire at least two good gunsmiths — the kind of men that are flexible and can do a variety of tasks. Then invest in at least three new machines — a lathe, a mill, and a drill press.”

“If I do all that, I’ll run out of manufacturing space.”

“I know that. You have to build an addition — make the work area at least twice as big. The office area is good. You don’t need to fix that.”

“You have a lot more guts than I have, and with my money,” said Peter, frowning. “So, you think I should expand?”

“Definitely. It will give you peace of mind, and it will positively influence your customer base and your business. But most importantly, it will afford you to pursue your other activities without unnecessary encumbrances.”

That’s what Peter did. He took the advice of his wife. During the next three days, Benner talked to a contractor. He proposed a workable addition. After Peter approved it, the contractor finished the job in four weeks. Simultaneously, Peter ordered three machines, and they arrived two weeks after the contractor completed the work. During the interim time, all gunsmiths worked ten hours per day, six days per week, to keep up with the workload. And he hired two master gunsmiths. Both came from Ferlach’s internationally famous gunsmith school.