Robert Ludlum – Scarlatti Inheritance

a few more cabinets?”

“I will not tolerate thisl”

“Men don’t. You go on your way, and I’ll simply report to my superiors that

Waterman Trust is in one hell of a pile of manure. Forgettin’ very sizable

commissions due the bank and puttin’ aside any thoughts of the companies

involved gettin’ nervous over who owns whatthere might even be a run on

some stocks-I possess knowledge which I should report immediately to the

au.thoritiesi”

“You can notl You mu t nod”

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“Why not?” Jefferson Cartwright held Gut the palms of both hands.

Elizabeth turned away from him and tried to marshal her thoughts. “Estimate

what!s gone, Mr. Cartwright. . . .”

‘I can estimate as far as weve looked. Eleven years, approximately -three

and a half million a year comes to something like forty million. But we may

have only just begun:’

‘I said prepare an estimate. I trust that I don!t have to tell. you that if

you say a word to anyone-I shall destroy you. We’ll arrive at mutually

agreeable terms.” She slowly turned and looked at Jefferson CartwrighL

“‘You should know, Mr. Cartwright, that through an accident you’re

privileged to information that lifts you far above your talents or

abilities. When men are so fortunate, they must be cautious.”

Elizabeth Scarlatti spent a sleepless night.

Jefferson Cartwright also spent a sleepless night. But it waset in bed. It

was on a monk7s stool with reams of papefs at his feet.

The figures mouated as he cautiously checked the file cabinets against the

Scarlatti trusts reports.

Jefferson Cartwright thought he’d go mad.

Ulster Stewart Scarlett had removed securities worth over $270 million.

He totaled and retotaled the figures.

An amount that would cause a crisis on the exchange.

An international scandal, which could-if known-cripple the Scarlatti

Industries. . . . And it would be known when the time came to convert the

first trusaing secunties. At the outside-. barely a year.

Jefferson Cammght folded the last of the pages together and stuffed them

into his inner jacket pocket He clamped his arm against his chest, making

sure that the prmum between his flesh was stopped by the paper, and left

the vaults.

He signaled the front guard with a short whistle. The man had been dozing

on a black leather chair near the door.

“Oh, m`God, Mr. Cartwrightl Ystartled mel”

Cartwright walked out onto the street.

120-

He looked at the grayish white light of the sky. It was going to be morning

soon. And the light was his signal.

For he-Jefferson Cartwright, fifty-year-old ex-football player from the

University of Virginia, who had married first money and then lost it–held

in his pocket carte blanche to everything he had ever wanted.

He was back in the stadium and the crowds were roaring.

Touchdownt

Nothing could be denied him now.

121

CHAPTER 13

At twenty minutes after one in the morning, Benjamin Reynolds sat

comfortably in an armchair in his Georgetown apartmeaL He held on his lap

one of the file folders the attorney general’s office had sent Group Twenty.

There had been sixteen in all and he divided the stack equally between

Glover and himself.

With congressional pressure, especially New York’s Senator Brownlee, the

attorney generars office wasn’t going to leave a single stone unturned. If

the Scarlatti son had disappeared into a void, at least the AG men could

write volumes explaining the fact. Because Group Twenty had

touched-briefly–on the life of Ulster Scarlett, Reynolds, too, would be

expected to add something. Even if it was nothing.

Reynolds felt a trace of guilt when he thought of Glover wading through the

same nonsense.

Like all reports of investigations of missing persons, it was filled with

trivia. Dates, hours, minutes, streets, houses, names, names, names. A

record of the inconsequential made to seem important. And perhaps to some-

one, somewhere, it might be. A part, a section, a paragrapk a sentence,

even a word could open a door for someone

But certainly not for anyone at Group Twenty.

Hed apologize to Glover later that morning.

Suddenly the phone rang. The sound in the stillness at such an unexpected

hour startled Reynolds.

“Ben? It’s Glover. . . .”

122

“Jesusl You scared the hell out of me! What’s wrong? Someone call in?”

“No, Ben. I suppose this could wait until morning, but I thought I’d give

you the pleasure of laughing yourself to sleep, you bastard.”

“You’ve been drinking, Glover. Fight with your wife, not me. What the hell

have I done?”

“Gave me these eight Bibles from the attorney general’s office, that’s what

you did…. I found something!”

“Good Christl About the New York thingl The aocks?”

“No. Nothing we’ve ever connected with Scarlett. May~ be nothing but it

could be

‘INbat?”

“Sweden. Stockholm.”

“Stockholm? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know the Pond file by rote.”

“Walter Pond? The securities?”

“That’s right. His first memorandum arrived last May. The initial word

about the securities. Remember now?”

“Yes, yes, I do. So what?”

“According to a report in the sixth file, Ulster Scarlett was in Sweden

last year. Would you like to guess when?”

Reynolds paused before answering. His attention was riveted on the almost

unimaginable amount of thirty million dollars. “It wasn’t Christmas, was

it.” It was a statement spoken softlv.

“Now that you mention it, some people might have looked at it that way.

Perhans Christmas in Sweden comes in May.”

“Let’s talk in the morning.” Reynolds hung up without waiting for his

subordinate to reply or say goodnight. He walked slowly back to the soft

armchair and sat down.

As always Benjamin Reynolds’s thought processes raced ahead of the

information presented. To the complications, the ramifications.

If Glover had made a valid assumption, that Ulster Scarlett was involved

with the Stockholm manipulation, then it had to follow that Scarlett was

still alive. If that were true, then -thirty million dollars’ worth of

American securities had been illegally offered by him for sale on the

Stockholm exchange.

123

No one individual, not even Ulster Stewart Scarlett, could get his hands on

thirty million dollars’ worth of securities.

Unless there was a conspiracy.

But of what kind? For what purpose?

If Elizabeth Scarlatti herself were a part of it-she had to be considered

in light of the magnitude of the capital-why?

Had he misread her completely?

It was possible.

It was also possible that he had been right over a year ago. The Scarlatti

son had not done what he had done for thrills or because he’d met unsavory

friends. Not if Stockholm was pertirxenL

Glover paced the floor in front of Reynolds’s desk. “It’s there. Scarlett’s

visa shows he entered Sweden on May tenth. The Pond memorandum is dated the

fifteenth.”

“I see. I can read.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Do? I can’t do a damn thing. There’s really nothing here at all. Simply a

statement calling our attention to some rumors and the date of an American

citizen’s entry into Sweden. What else do you see?”

“Assuming there’s a basis for the rumors, the connection’s obvious and you

know it as well as I dol Five will get you ten that if Pond’s last

communication is right, Scarlett’s in Stockholm now.”

“Assuming he’s got something to seiv,

“That’s what I said.”

“If I remember, somebody’s got to say something’s

stolen before somebody else can yell thief I If we make

accusations, all the Scarlattis have to say is they don’t

know what we’re talking about and we’re strung up on a

high legal tree. And they don’t even have to do that. They

can simply refuse to dignify us with an answer — that’s

the way the old lady would put it-and the boys on the

Hill will take care of the rest…. This agency-for those

who know about it-is an abomination. The purpose we

ftrve is generally at odds with a few other purposes in

this town. We’re one of the checks and balances-~e

124

your choice. A lot of people in Washington would like to see us ouW,

“Then we’d better let the AG’S office have the information and let them

draw their own conclusions. I guess that’s the only thing left.”

Benjamin Reynolds pushed his foot against the floor and his chair swung

gently around to face the window. “We should do that. We will if you insist

on it.”

“What does that mean?” asked Glover, addressing his words to the back of

his superioes head.

Reynolds shoved his chair around again and looked at his subordinate. “I

think we ran do the job better ourselves. Justice, Treasury, even the

Bureau. Theyre accountable to a dozen committees. We’re not.”

“We’re extending the lines of our authority.”

“I don1 think so. And as long as I sit in this chair that’s pretty much my

decision, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Why do you want us to take it on?”

“Because there’s something diseased in all this. I saw it in the old

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