Cartwright’s death.”
“Stop itl” He leaned forward. “You wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of
throwing everyone off with that York Abbey story unless something happened.
I want to know where he is.”
“Where who is? Cartwright?”
“I warn youl”
215
“I have no idea what you’re talking aboutl”
“A man disappeared on that shipt They say he fell overboard.”
“Oh, yes. I recall. . . . What has that to do with me?” Her look
personified ianocence.
Neither moved.
“You know nothing about the incidentr’
“I didn’t say that.”
“What did you say, then?”
“There were rumors. Reliable sources.”
“What rumors?”
The old woman weighed several replies. She knew that her answer had to have
the ring of authenticity without any obvious errors in character or
behavior. On the other hand, whatever she said had to reflect the sketchy
extremes of gossip.
“That the man was drunk and belligerent. There’d been a struggle in the
lounge. . . . He had to be subdued and carried to his stateroom. He tried
to return and fell over the rail. Did you know him?”
A cloud of detachment covered Scarlett!s answer. “No, he was no part of
us.” He was dissatisfied but he did not dwell on iL For the first time in
several minutes he looked away from her. He was deep in thought. Finally he
spoke. “One last item. You started out to find your missing son . . .”
“I started out to find a thiefl” she interrupted sharply.
“Have it your way. From another pointof view I simply moved up the
calendar.”
“Thafs not truel You stole from Scarlatti. What was assigned to you was to
be used in conjunction with the Scarlatti Industriesl”
“We’re wasting time again.”
“I wanted the point cleared up.”
“The point is that you set out to find me and you succeeded. We agree oD
that fact?”
‘Agreed.”
“Now rm telling you to say nothing, do nothing, and return to New York.
Furthermore, destroy any letters or instructions you may have left
concerning me.”
“Those are impossible demandsl”
“In that event my orders go out. The Scariattis are deadl Go to your church
and let them tell you how they’ve been washed in the blood of the lambl”
216
Ulster Scarlett sprang up from the Victorian couch and before the old woman
could adjust her eyes to his movement, he had reached the telephone. There
wasn’t the slightest hesitation on his part. He picked up the telephone
without looking at her and waited for the switchboard,to answer.
The old woman rose unsteadily. “Don’tt”
He turned to face her. “Why not?”
“I’ll do as you askl”
He replaced the phone. “Are you surer’
“I’m sure.” He bad won.
Ulster Scarlett smiled with his misshapen lips. “Then ourbusiness is
concluded.”
“Not quite.” Elizabeth now would try, realizing that the attempt might cost
her her life.
‘Ohr’
-rd like to speculate, for just a minute.”
“On what?”
“For the sake of argument, supposing I decided to abandon our
understandingr,
“You know the consequencei. You couldn’t hide from us, not for any length
of time.”
“Time, however, could be the factor on my side.”
“rbe securities have been disposed of. No sense in thinkin about that.”
“I assumed they had been, or else you wouldn’t have come here.”
“This is a good game. Go on.”
“I’m sum that if you hadn’t thought of it yourself, someone would have told
you that the only intelligent way of seHing those securities would be on a
currency basis in exchange for diminished value.”
‘No one had to tell me.”
“Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Go alieW.”
“How difficult do you think it is to tram deposits, gold or otherwise, of
that magnitude? ru make it two questions. Where are the only banks in the
world willing or even capable of such depositsr’
“We both know the answer Coded, numbered, impossible.11
“And in which of the great banking concerns of Switzerland is there the
incorruptible maar’
217
Her son paused and squinted his lidless eyes. “Now you’re the one who’s
insane,” he answered quietly.
“Not at all. You think in small blocks, Ulster. You use large sums but you
think in small blocks. . . . Word goes out in the marble halls of Bem and
Zurich that the sum of one million American dollars can be had for the
confidential exchange of information. . .
‘What would you gain by it?”
“Knowledgel … Namest Peoplel-
“You make me laughl”
“Your laughter will be short-livedl . It’s obvious that you have
associates; you need them. Your threats make that doubly clear, and I’m
sure you pay them well. . . . The question is–once they’re known to me and
I to them-will they be able to resist my price? Certainly you can never
match it! In this we are not beyond sumsl”
The grotesque face distorted itself further as a thick, drawlish laugh came
forth from the misshapen mouth. “I’ve waited years to tell you that your
slide-rule theories smelll Your stinking buy-me, sell-me manipulations are
finishedl You’ve had your wayl It’s finishedl Deadl Gonel . . . Who are you
to manipulate? With your conniving bankersl Your stinking little Jewsl
You’re finishedl I’ve watched youl Your kind is deadl . . . Don’t talk to
me about my associates. They wouldn’t -touch you or your moneyl” The man in
black was in a rage.
“You believe that?” Elizabeth did not move. She asked a simple question.
“Completelyr’ Ulster Scarletts unhealed flesh was red with the blood
rushing to his head. “We have something elsel And you can’t touch usl Any
of usl There is.no price for us!”
“However, you’ll grant-as with the bank letters-I could prove irksome. Only
to a far greater degree. Do you wish to take that gamble?”
“You. sign eleven death warrantsl A mass buriall Is. that what you want,
Mother?”
“The answer to both our questions would seem to be no. This is now a more
reasonable understanding.”
The man-mask in black paused and spoke softly, precisely. “You’re not my
equal. Don’t for one minute think you arel”
‘What happened, Ulster? What happened? . . . Why?”
“Nothing and everythingl I’m doing what none of you
218
are capable of doingl What has to be donel But you can’t do itl”
“Would I … or we … want to?”
“More than anything in the world? But you haven1 the stomachsl You’re
weakl”
The telephone rang, piercing the air.
“Don’t bother to answer it”, Ulster said. “It’ll ring only once. It’s
merely a signal that my wife-the devoted whore–and her newest bedmate have
left Claridge’s.”
“Then I assume our meeting is adjourned.” She saw to her great relief that
he accepted the statement. She noted also thaA in such a position he was
dangerous. A tick was developing on the surface of his skin above his right
eye. He agam stretched his fingers in a slow deliberate motion.
“Remember what I say. You make one mistake…”
She interrupted before he could finish. “Remember who I am, young manl
You’re speaking to the wife of Giovanni Merighi Scarlatti! There is no need
to repeat yourself. You have your agreement. Go about your filthy business.
I have no further interest in youl”
The man in black strode rapidly to the door. “I hate you, Mother.”
“I hope you benefit as much from those you hold less dear.”
“In ways you’d never understandl”
He opened the door and slipped out, slamming it harshly behind him.
Elizabeth Scarlatti stood by the window and pulled apart the drapes. She
leaned against the cold glass for support. The city of London was asleep,
and only a scattering of lights dotted its concrete facade
What in God’s name had he done?
More important, who was paying attention to him?
What might have been mere horror turned into terror for he had the weapon.
The weapon of power-which she and Giovanni innocently, productively
provided.
They were, indeed, beyond sums.
Tears fell from her old eyes and that inner consciousness, which afflicts
all human beings, was taken by surprise. She had not cried in over thirty
years.
Elizabeth pushed herself away from the window pd slowly wandered about the
room. She had a great deal of thinking to do.
219
CHAPTER 28
In a room in the Home Office, James Derek took out a file. “Jacques Louis
Bertholde, The Fourth Marquis of Chatellerault.”
The dossier custodian entered the room. “Hello, James. Late hours tonight,
I see.”
“I’m afraid so, Charles. I’m taking out a copy. Did you get my request?”
“Right here. Fill me in and I’ll sign for it. But please make it short.
I’ve a card game in my office.”
“Short and simpl6. The Americans suspect their embassy personnel of selling
Yank securities undercover over here. This Bertholde travels in the
diplomatic circles. There could be a connection with the Scarlatti fellow.”
The dossier custodian made his appropriate notes. “When did this all take