House of All Nations (101 page)

7.
Mr. Raccamond is to receive a monthly statement of the financial situation of the bank and to be allowed to withdraw his clients' accounts if he deems it necessary and to have priority over the customers' men in this instance; he is to be allowed to act according to his lights and in full secrecy. To guarantee this and to guarantee Mr. Raccamond against bad faith and error, Mr. Raccamond is to be considered the owner of 50% of the two million francs of the guarantee fund, but if his clients are not paid out immediately on his demand, he can withdraw the one million francs, and for this withdrawal alone, the signature of Mr. Raccamond is to suffice, without the countersignature of Mr. Bertillon.

Everyone was laughing quietly. Alphendéry, behind, said, ‘Why so timid, Aristide?' Maître Lemaître said nothing, but calmly took the document from Maître Beaubien. Maître Beaubien, however, frowned and in his most elegant accent pronounced, ‘You're a rogue, Mr. Raccamond.' Jules laughed. William said with bonhomie to Raccamond, ‘The carpet's nailed down, Aristide, but we can always get a man in with a tack hammer to take it off for you.'

Aristide bent forward, lost his temper. ‘It's merely a safeguard for the clients. There has been so much imprudence here—and undue influence, not to say worse—'

‘It's impossible, Raccamond,' said Jules sharply. ‘Don't run away with the idea that we're going to turn the business over to you. I offered you a limited partnership one time. You've drawn up an agreement which—why go into it? It's ludicrous. You could browbeat us and blackmail us forever. Every time it pleased you, you could blackmail me into signatures, whatever you wanted. Are you crazy?'

‘Blackmail,' said Aristide with indignation, ‘how dare you say that? I have the books. I'm basing everything on the books I have in my possession. I have a real right to safeguard myself.'

Maître Lemaître said quietly, ‘You're a vulgar blackmailer, Mr. Raccamond, and that's the whole story.'

‘Do you know where we keep our gold and our bonds?' asked Alphendéry.

‘Yes,' cried Aristide. ‘In London.'

‘You see, Aristide,' Jules remonstrated, ‘if you're reasonable, it's worth our while to stay in business. If not, you can have the dust and ashes. You understand?'

‘You only pay half your income tax,' said William pleasantly. ‘You remember: Brussels account number 23!'

Aristide went paler and twined his fingers together; his eyes looked like two black poached eggs. ‘You won't sign the agreement you promised?' he said in a low voice.

They saw that he was serious: he had expected them to sign it. ‘No, Aristide,' said Jules: ‘you're too much of a crook, you see. You run about stealing books: how can I sign with you?'

William laughed, ‘Naturally we'd like to hand you two million francs but your character forbids.'

Aristide turned on him. ‘You're at the bottom of this, you're against me, you and your crony Alphendéry. You've always been against me. Bobchinski and Dobchinski,' he said slowly, ‘against Mr. Bertillon and me. He doesn't understand you.'

‘Pttt!' said Jules.

‘I'm my brother's partner,' William answered dryly. ‘I see you trying to railroad him. I advise him, no. I'm against you because you're a crook. You're a failure because you're a hypocritical crook, and you're a crook because you're a failure. But if my brother wants you to go in with us, you go in like any other junior partner who is contributing no funds and no decent clients and who has no guts and is not a money-maker.'

This unwise gibe was frowned on by Jules, who broke in, ‘Give me a real proposition, Aristide, and I'll consider it. Only you must return the books. That's the first item on the program. What you give here—is fantasy, just plain fantasy. You're feverish, or you'd see it. Naturally,' he flipped the document aside, ‘it's impossible for me to give you a two-million-franc guarantee fund.'

‘Simply ludicrous,' said Maître Beaubien.

‘And I won't have a partner,' said Jules getting irritable. ‘This is my bank. I run it. No busybodies. I'd rather shut it up. Ask something reasonable or I close the bank. You don't mean a thing to me! Your blackmailing doesn't touch me because I don't give a damn. Who says I have to keep in business? When I close the bank tonight I can pay off the boys and say, Don't come back tomorrow. Who can stop me?'

Aristide sagged. ‘You can't do that.'

‘Can't I? You don't think I see all my clients holding their assets abroad and that I keep mine here!'

Then Aristide said, ‘I see what it is: you gentlemen have decided to cheat me out of my prospects, my clients, and my money, and you came here this morning to fool me out of the agreement you promised me. You said you'd make me a partner and now you won't do anything. You force me to go to the police. You're all rogues.'

‘You already sign checks and letters as director,' said William sweetly, ‘so if the police, your friends, corral us, they will take you along: all in one Black Maria. No one will believe that a director getting two hundred thousand francs a year didn't know how that vast sum was made! You're caught in your greed, Aristide.'

‘You don't frighten me: I have friends.'

‘Carrière!' said Jean de Guipatin. ‘Carrière is furious with you, if you want to know, Aristide. He thought you were working for him, and he finds you're trying to gouge Bertillon for your own benefit. He knows quite well Jules can close the bank and he doesn't want that: he wants Jules to pay him on the sterling contract. I rang him after I saw you and told him you were playing the fool. He says if you go to the police, he'll drop you.'

Aristide changed ground. ‘What do you offer me then?'

‘You must return the books,' said Maître Beaubien. ‘As an evidence of good faith. We will give you a promise in writing that you won't be dismissed, that your clients will be paid off, and that your clients' positions will be held here intact, as they are recorded on their monthly accounts. That is what is worrying you and that is what we will guarantee. We do not admit any truth in any of the statements you make. You have taken one set of books: the bookkeeping of this bank is done in several countries, and the full position is not known to anyone employed. You have not been treated differently from all the others. In fact, you have received better treatment.'

Jules said suddenly, ‘What's your opinion of the London branch, Aristide? Do you think you could run that end? If you want to work in with me there, I'll agree.' Aristide loved London: he was one of the Frenchmen who much preferred it. Besides, they had said that the ‘other books' were in London.

‘Yes, I could work in London. I'd like to. If full authority is given to me and my position is assured. All my clients have their assets in London.'

Aristide was fatigued and this seemed to be to him a good ground for temporizing. He said, with relief, to Jules, ‘Mr. Bertillon, I have always had confidence in you: I never believed that you were really crooked. If you treat with me on this basis, we can come to some agreement. I would still require a complete statement of all the clients' positions, not only my own but Mouradzian's and others', and I would be willing to supervise a slow replacement of any shares that had been sold out. I realize that the bank must sometimes protect itself, when clients are trading on margin.'

‘We're getting somewhere at last,' said Jules, smiling exquisitely at Aristide. ‘You're not a bad fellow, Aristide, but you get yourself all mixed up.'

‘But I will only treat with you; I will have nothing to say to the others,' Aristide emphasized. ‘And Mr. Alphendéry must have no authority over the London branch.'

‘That's right, we'll talk it over. Now, Aristide, go home and get into bed: you're not well. When you're better, we'll have everything ready for you, and you'll have nothing to worry about.'

Jules was smiling, gently tapping his green blotting pad and occasionally looking at Maître Beaubien under his lids. William looked up once, winked at Jules, and studied Aristide's bull crouch, his pale wattled face thrust forward, the starting eyes, the veins pulsating in the head. In their stillness, Aristide started to speak, and then lost himself. They were a threatening audience; yet, even in that way, he liked to have them for audience. ‘I will take an interim statement for the London and Brussels branches only. If Mr. Bertillon certifies it, I will accept it as a basis. But I will only deal with Mr. Bertillon.'

‘I will show you everything that isn't mine,' said Jules peaceably, ‘when you come back, Aristide. Only, you must go away for a few days. You are worked up now. You don't do yourself justice or me either.'

‘But while I am away,' began Aristide, glancing round at William and Alphendéry.

‘Mr. William is my junior partner,' said Jules insolently, ‘and Mr.Alphendéry will not be here. He is going to Zurich this evening for a fortnight.'

‘If that is so,' said Aristide. ‘I—'

‘It is so, Aristide. Now you go down to Biarritz and set yourself up. You're rash to be out as it is, but I understand you. Keep in touch with me by telephone. When you come back, you will find that I will have an arrangement for you, a compromise that will take in your interests and mine. No one else will be considered. Then I will show you part of the assets. And when you are satisfied you can go to London and take over the London branch. As second in command, if you like him, I'll give you Theodor Bomba. You can have him for private secretary. How is that?'

‘Can I think it over?'

‘Of course. But I really think you should go to the Côte d'Argent as soon as you can travel. Mr. Vallat downstairs will get tickets for you and your wife, if you like. Shall I tell him? How do you travel? First-class sleeper? I will send you away at my own expense, Aristide: it won't cost you anything, and in the meantime everything will be prepared for you to sign by Maître Beaubien.'

Both William and Alphendéry looked anxious. Aristide noted this and said, ‘You are leaving this evening, Alphendéry?'

‘Yes,' said Alphendéry promptly, ‘for Zurich to see my doctor. He has told me to go on a three-months' vacation, and I must see him: it's so long and I can't afford so much.'

‘Oh, you stay away three months, Michel,' said Jules. ‘You're run down. You're not to run this account any more. When you come back you must get on to quieter work. Your nerves won't stand it.'

Alphendéry bit his lips but murmured, ‘Thanks, Jules.'

‘My man will take you home, Aristide,' said Jules. ‘Do you want those tickets?'

Aristide could not resist the offer. ‘All right, if you wish,' he said ungraciously.

Jules took up the telephone. ‘Let's take our hats,' whispered William. They did so. As they walked out the front door, they saw Aristide in a gloomy corner of the foyer watching. All the cashiers' grilles were now closed and they had the bank to themselves.

‘Quick, in,' said William. They ran in through the great doorway two doors away. On the staircase was a blinded door which led to another dark descending staircase and this second staircase led through another door back into the bank, by the tellers' offices. Through the tellers' offices they ascended by a spiral staircase hidden in the wall. There was a small landing on which was another hidden door leading to a cupboard in Jules's room; and by this series of doors and by this cupboard William and Michel found themselves back in Jules's room. They came in silently, looked around at Jules and the lawyers.

‘He's gone; my chauffeur took him. Sit down,' said Jules.

‘Do you think he'll go to Biarritz?'

‘I hope so.'

‘And the agreement?' asked Alphendéry heartily.

‘Bull,' said Jules quietly. ‘Michel, you've got to get to the station tonight and take that train. He's sure to be spying after you. Get out at the first stop. Hard luck I know. But you've got to help me out. As soon as the chauffeur comes back we'll go to the Rue de Grenelle post office and telegraph to Newchurch in London to go straight back to the bank and remove to his home every book connected with the accounts. Parouart is after them, too. I'll bet you anything you like this cockroach Raccamond thought he'd get to London in time to discover the books while Parouart was making trouble there. And I'm going to see he goes with his wife. Don't go back to your apartment after you leave it tonight with your valise. Put in your valise all you need for London. I want you to go to London as soon as Raccamond leaves for Biarritz. I'll telegraph the fellow in Biarritz, also, to expect him and treat him nicely. Of course, that fellow's in his pay. He got his son in there, too. Now, Michel, when you get to London you must stay there and not come back. When Raccamond comes back he'll ask if you've been round (because he's crazy jealous of you), and I want everyone to answer, “No, he's been away for weeks.” You stay in London as long as you like and don't go near the office. Do what you like. Get the books from Newchurch and then go and hide your head. You can do our business with Stewart.'

‘And what agreement are you going to get out for the imbecile?' William asked sardonically.

‘Do you think I'm crazy?' asked Jules. ‘None. I'm just going to give myself a chance to get him. I'll tell my chauffeur to try to steal the books tomorrow evening. Paul is to look after the luggage for the Raccamonds and I'll tell him to make a mistake, send it to Bordeaux. I'm going to have them followed all day tomorrow, to see if he or she goes to a bank vault.'

He rose and they all rose, fatigued. When the two lawyers had gone off, Jean de Guipatin said, ‘Aristide's not so soft as he looks: he's just tired tonight. I'd feel happier if we had the books. Jules, I can get you a couple of strong-arm burglars in a shake, if you say the word; you'd also better burgle his home in the Rue du Docteur-Blanche while he's away. Aristide's got a house there to himself and no doubt some faithful retainer with a strongbox.'