My Uncle Oswald(20)

I decided I would try to discourage him by doubling the price. “I’m afraid they are terrifically expensive, these pills,” I said.

“Money no object,” he said, pointing to the leather satchel on the table. “I pay in gold coins.”

“But Mr. Mitsouko,” I said, “each pill is going to cost you two thousand francs! They are very difficult to manufacture. That’s an awful lot of money for one pill.”

“I take twenty,” he said without even blinking.

My God, I thought, he is going to kill himself. “I cannot allow you to have them,” I told him, “unless you give me your word you will never take more than one at a time.”

“Do not lecture me, young buckeroo,” he said. “Just get me the pills.”

I went upstairs and counted out twenty pills and put them in a plain bottle. I wasn’t going to risk having my name and address on this lot.

“Ten I shall send to the Emperor in Tokyo,” Mr. Mitsouko said when I handed them to him. “It will put me in a very hot position with His Royal Highness.”

“It’ll put the Empress in some pretty hot positions, too,” I said.

He grinned and took up the leather satchel and emptied a vast pile of gold coins onto the table. They were all onehundred-franc pieces. “Twenty coins for each pill,” he said, starting to count them out. “That is four hundred coins altogether. And well worth it, you young magician.” When he had gone, I scooped up the coins and carried them up to my room.

My God, I thought. I am rich already.

But before the day was done, I was a lot richer. One by one, the messengers started trickling back from their respective embassies and ministries. They all carried precise orders and exact amounts of money, most of it in gold twenty-franc pieces. This is how it went:

Sir Charles Makepiece, 4 pills = 4,000 francs

The German ambassador, 8 pills = 8,000 francs

The Russian ambassador, 10 pills = 10,000 francs

The Hungarian ambassador, 3 pills = 3,000 francs

The Peruvian ambassador, 2 pills = 2,000 francs

The Mexican ambassador, 6 pills = 6,000 francs

The Italian ambassador, 4 pills 4,000 francs

The French foreign minister, 6 pills = 6,000 francs

The Army general, 3 pills = 3,000 francs

46,000 francs



Mr. Mitsouko, 20 pills (double price) 40,000 francs

Grand Total 86,000 francs



Eighty-six thousand francs! At the exchange rate of one hundred francs to five pounds, I was all of a sudden worth four thousand three hundred English pounds! It was incredible. One could buy a good house for money like that, with a carriage and a pair of horses thrown in, as well as one of those dashing newfangled automobiles!

For supper that night, Madame Boisvain served oxtail stew, and it wasn’t at all bad except that the sloshiness of it all encouraged Monsieur B to suck and swig and gulp in the most disgusting fashion. At one point, he picked up his plate and tipped the gravy straight into his mouth, together with a couple of carrots and a large onion. “My wife tells me that you had a lot of peculiar visitors today,” he said. His face was plastered with brown fluid and strands of meat were hanging from his moustache. “Who were these men?”

“They were friends of the British ambassador,” I answered. “I am doing a little business for Sir Charles Makepiece.”

“I cannot have my house turned into a market-place,” Monsieur B said, speaking with his mouth full of fat. “These activities must cease.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “Tomorrow I am finding alternative accommodation.”

“You mean you’re leaving?” he cried.

“I’m afraid I must. But you may keep the advance rent my father has paid you.”

There was a bit of an uproar around the table about all this, much of it from Mademoiselle Nicole, but I stuck to my guns. And the next morning I went out and found myself a quite grand ground-floor apartment with three large rooms and a kitchen. It was on the avenue Jena. I packed all my possessions and loaded them into a hackney coach. Madame Boisvain was at the front door to see me off. “Madame,” I said, “I have a small favour to ask of you.”

“Yes?”

“And in return I want you to take this.” I held out five gold twenty-franc pieces. She nearly fell over. “From time to time,” I said, “people will call at your house asking for me. All you have to do is tell them I have moved and redirect them to this address.” I gave her a piece of paper with my new address written on it.

“But that is too much money, Monsieur Oswald!”

“Take it,” I said, pushing the coins into her hand. “Keep it for yourself. Don’t tell your husband. But it is very important that you inform everyone who calls where I am living.”