“Yes.”
“Could you set all this up within a weekr,
“Yes, again.”
“Very well. I’ll outline what I propose. Believe me when I tell you it is
the only way.”
“Whaes your proposal?”
‘9?ut simply, the Scarlatti Industries will economically destroy every
investor in Zurich. Force them into financial ruin.”
Canfield looked at the prepossessing, confident old woman- . For several
seconds he said nothing, merely sucked breath through his teeth as if
trying to formulate a reply.
“You’re a lunatic,” he said quietly. “You’re one person. They’re fourteen
. . . no, now thirteen stinking rich fatcats. You’re no match for them”
“It’s not what one’s worth that counts, Mr. Canfield. Not after a point.
It’s how rapidly one can manipulate his holdings. The time factor is the
ultimate weapon in economics, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwLse. In
my case, one judgment prevails.”
“Wbat does that meanT’
Efflzabeth stood motionless in front of Canfield. Her speech was measured.
“If I were to liquidate -the entire Scariatti, Industries, there Is no one
on earth who could MOP Me.”
1-m field accountant waWt sure he understood her Impficadon. He looked at
her for a few seconds before speakin& “Oh? So?”
“You fooll . . . Outside of the Rothschilds and, perhaps a few Indian
maharajas, I doubt there’s another person in my position, or in our
civRization, who can say thati”
“Why not? Why can’t any of the men in Zurich do the same thing?”
The old woman was wrasperate& She clasped her hands and brought the
clenched fingers to her chin. ‘Tor a man whose imagination far efcceds, his
inteU*VAX,
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you astonish me. Or is it only fear that provokes your perception of larger
things?”
“No question for a questiottl I want an answerl”
“It’s all related, I assure you. The primary reason why the operation in
Zurich can not and will not do as I ran do is their own fear. Fear of the
laws binding -their commitments; fear of the investments, investors; fear
of extraordinary decisions; fear of the panic which always results from
such decisions. Most important of all, fear of financial ruin.”
“And none of that bothers you? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No commitments bind ScarlattL Until I die, there is only one voice. I am
Scarlatti.”
‘T,rhat about the rest of it? The decisions, the pamcs, the ruin?”
“As always my decisions will be executed with precision and foresight.
Panic will be avoided.”
“And so will financial ruin, huh? . . . You are the God damnedest,
self-confident old ladyl”
“Again you fail to understand. At this juncture I anticipate the collapse
of Scarlatti as inevitable should I be called. There will be no quarter
given.”
Matthew Canfield now understood. “Ill be damned.”
“I must have vast sums. Amounts inconceivable to you, which can be
allocated by a single command. Money which can. purchase massive holdings,
inflate or depress entire markets. Once that kind of manipulation has been
exercised, I doubt that all the capital on earth could put Scarlatti back
together. It would never be Misted again.”
“Then you’d be finished.”
“hTevocably.”
The old woman moved in front of Canfield. She looked at him but not in the
manner to which he was accustomed. She might have been a womed grandmother
from the dry plains of Kansas asking the preacher if the Lord would allow
the rains to come.
“I have no arguments left. Please allow me my last battle. My final gestm,
as it were.”
“You7re asking an awful lot.”
“Not when you think of iL If you return, it’ll take you a week to reach
Washington. Another week to compile everything we’ve been through. Days
before you reach
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those in government who should listen to you, if you can get them to listen
to you at all. By my calculations that would be at least three or four
weeks. Do you agree?”
Canfield felt foolish standing in front of Elizabeth. For no reason other
dian to increase the distance between them he walked to the center of the
room. “God damn it, I doret know what I agree withl”
“Give me four weeks. Just four weeks from today. . .
If I fail well do as you wish. . . . More than that ru come to Washington
with you. 1711 testify, if need be, in front of one of those committees. IM
do whatever You and your associates think necessary. Further, I’ll settle
our personal account three times above that agreed upon.”
“Suppose you fail?”
“What possible difference can it make to anyone but myself? There’s little
sympathy in this world for fallen LIMonaires.”
“What about your family then? They caret spend the rest of their lives in
some remote lake in Canada?”
‘That won’t be necessary. Regardless of the larger outconic, rn destroy my
son. I shall expose Ulster Scarleft for what he is. r1l sentence him to
death at Zuricli.”
The field accountant fell silent for a moment and looked at Elizabeth.
“Have you considered the fact that you might be killed?”
$I have.’9
“You’d risk that … Sell out Scarlatti Industries. Destroy everything
you’ve builL Is it worth that to YOU? Do you hate him that much?”
“Yes. As one hates a disease. magnified because rm responsible for its
flourishing.”
Canfield put his glassdown, tempted to pour himself another drink. “That’s
going a little far.”
I didn’t say I invented the disease. I said that rm remonmsibie for
sipreadmg it. Not simply because I Provided
oney bu infinitely more important, because I im-
ridea. An idea which has become warped in the f maturing.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re no saint, but you dont think like that.” He
pointed toward the papers on the couch.
The old woman’s weary eyes closed.
‘There’s a little of … that in each of us. lies all paft of tbe idea…
The twisted idea. My husband and I do-
262
voted years to the building of an industrial empire. Since his death, I’ve
fought in the marketplac”oubling, redoubling, adding, building-always
acquiring. . . . Its been a stimulating, all-consuming game. . . . Ive
played it well. And sometime during all those years, my son teamed what many
observers failed to learn-that it was never the acquisition of profits or
material gain that mattared-they were merely the by-products. It was the ac-
quisition of power. . . . I wanted that power because I sincerely believed
that I was equipped for the responsibility. The more convinced I became, it
had to follow that others were not equipped. . . . The quest for power
becomes a personal crusade, I think. The more success one has, the more
personal it becomes. Whether he understood it or not, that’s what my son saw
happe i
There may be similarities of purpose, even of motive, a great gulf divides
us-my son and me.”
-rn give you the four weeks. Jesus Christ only knows why. But you still
haven’t made it clear to me why you want to risk all this. Throw away
everything.”
“I’ve tried to… You’re slow at times. If I offend, ifs because I think
you do understand. You’re deliberately asking me to spell out an unpleasant
reality.” She carried her notes to the table by her bedroom door. As the
light had grown dim, she turned on the lamp, causing the fringe on the
shade to shimmy. She seemed fascinated by the movement “I imagine that all
of us-the Bible cans us the rich and mighty-wish to leave this world
somewhat different from the way it was before us. As the years go by, this
vague, ill-defined instinct becomes really quite important How many of us
have -toyed with the phrases of our own obituaries?” She turned from the
lamp and looked at the field accountant. “Considering everything we now
know, would you care to speculate on my not-ioo-distant obituary?”
‘No deal. Thats another question.-
“It’s a snap, you know. . . . The wealth is taken forgranted. Every
agonizing decision, every nerve-racking gamble-they become simple, expected
accomplishmentL Accomplishments more to be scomed than admired be* cause rm
both a woman and a highly competitive speculator. An unattractive
combination. . . . One son log in the Great War. Another rapidly emerging
as a pompous mcompetent, sought after for every wrong reason, dis-
263
carded and laughed at whenever feasible. And now this. A madman leading or
at least a part of a growing band of psychopathic malcontents. . . . This is
what I bequeath. What Scarlatti bequeaths, Mr. Canfield. . . . Not a very
enviable suMt is it?”
“No, it isn’t.’s
“Consequently, Ill stop at nothing to prevent this final madness . . .” She
picked up her notes and went into the bedroom. She closed the door behind
her, leaving Canfield in the large sitting room by himself. He thought for
a moment that the old woman was on the verge of team
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