Part: 1 Casablanca

Ch. 1 The Arrest

Harm sat at the back of a smoky bar. Piano music could be heard coming from the stage directly ahead. Had this not been a dream, Harm might have asked himself 'Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I in a tux and why is everything in black and white?'

Of course, none of this was on Harm's subconscious mind, as he sat at his lonely table.

The party was in full swing at Harm's Seahawk Club. Everybody who was anybody in Casablanca came to the Seahawk. Want good music? Come to Harm's. Want some companionship? Come to Harm's. Want some cheap booze, expensive booze, gambling, anything? Come to Harm's.

Harm took a sip of his bourbon and surveyed the crowd. Like they said, anybody who was anybody came to the Seahawk. The tables, bar, casino and dance floor were filled with every type of person. Merchants, policemen, actors, socialites, German army officers and spies all came through here.

Speaking of spies, Harm sat up in his chair and took notice of Inspector Clayton Webb of the Free-French police, walking through the door and heading towards the bar. Harm sighed, removing his still smoldering cigar from the table's ashtray as he got up and headed towards Webb.

Harm reached the bar as soon as Webb sat down.

"What are you having?" Harm asked nonchalantly.

Webb stiffened slightly in his seat. "What have you got to offer?" Webb asked as Harm sat down next to him.

Harm shrugged, puffing on his cigar. "It depends."

"On what?"

"On who I'm pouring this drink for. If it's just you then I've got plenty to offer, but if I'm pouring for a drink for the French Resistance, Allied Intelligence or the Gestapo or anybody else on your list of employers, then I'll have to ask you to leave."

Webb snorted. "Suppose I told you that I'm working for myself and that I just wanted a drink?"

Harm rolled his eyes, "Oh come off it Webb, we both know that you've always got something going on the side and that your loyalties change based on whoever has the best going rate. Not to mention the fact that you haven't been in here for 'just wanting a drink' since the Nazis came into to town."

Webb laughed reaching into his pocket for his cigarette case, "You make me sound so mercenary."

Harm smiled, but only slightly, "That's because you are."

Webb lit the cigarette and turned to face Harm. "That being said, I need a favour."

"Oh, boy. Here it comes." Harm remarked snidely.

Webb ignored him. "You've no doubt heard about the two German couriers who were found dead on the highway, the other day?"

"Yes. They got a lucky break. Alive they were, but ordinary clerks and now they're honoured war dead." He chuckled darkly.

"Awfully cynical aren't you?"

"It's always served me before."

Webb continued, "The two clerks were carrying with them, a set of exit visas from Assyut to be sent to Lisbon. When the bodies were discovered, the visas were gone."

"What has that got to do with me?" Harm asked, clearly uninterested.

"In response to the murders, German high command has sent someone down to straighten things out. A Major Chegwidden. Apparently, the Germans are beginning to wonder about my ability to control things down here."

Harm snorted, "That's what happens when you use your executive powers to divert German weapons convoys towards the camps of you friends in the resistance. When you're not busy arresting resistance members to keep the German's good graces."

"Anyway, we've figured out who is responsible for stealing the papers and we know that he's going to be here, at the Seahawk, tonight. As will Major Chegwidden."

"So you want to stage an arrest, here at the club?" Harm asked already knowing the answer.

"You will be well compensated for any lost business tonight." Webb assured him.

"I should hope so. Because I was prepared to insist on it."

Webb laughed and crushed his cigarette. "He will arrive here, my men will arrest him…"

"Let me guess," Harm interrupted, "There will be an accident on the way to the precent. Afterwards it'll be revealed that the exit visas have mysteriously disappeared."

Webb tapped his nose conspiratorially, "You said it. I didn't."

"Heh, right." Harm looked around the room. "What's all the noise about anyway? Nobody boldly steals a set of exit visas without something big going on."

Webb nodded appreciatively, "Perceptive as always, Harm. Does the name Mic Brumby mean anything to you?"

Harm stiffened slightly at the mention of the familiar name. "Mic Brumby?"

Webb was amused by Harm's action, "Why Harm, this is the first time I've ever seen you so impressed."

Harm laughed, "Well he's succeeded in impressing half the world."

Webb nodded, "Officially, it's my job to see that he doesn't manage to impress the other half. I'm under strict orders. Mic Brumby stays in Casablanca."

"What would give you the idea that I would even be inclined to help him escape."

"Because I think beneath that cynical exterior beats a sentimental heart. Besides, he's traveling with a lady."

"What does that have to do with me?"

Webb never got a chance to answer, as another French officer rushed up to him.

"Major Chegwidden is here."

Webb hastily excused himself and headed for the entrance.

Harm sighed and proceeded to watch the show unfold in front of him. Webb led Major Chegwidden and his group to a table, where they sat until a shifty looking man walked through the door. He headed for the bar and ordered a drink. He looked back at the entrance and saw the policemen standing at the door. He made a run for the back entrance, but was caught by the officers coming from the kitchen. He was led off kicking and screaming.

Harm leapt into action and climbed onto the stage waving his arms for the crowds attention. Webb nodded to him as he headed out the door with his prisoner.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Harm announced, "There has been an arrest. Please remain calm. Enjoy yourselves." He looked over at Bud, who was sitting at the piano. "Keep playing Bud." Bud did as he was told.

Harm took the stairs to his private office and sat down behind his desk. He poured himself a drink. It was going to be a long night.