The Scarlatti Inheritance(121)
Elizabeth paused to place her briefcase directly in front of her. The men around the table were aroused, apprehensive. Several were shocked at the casual mention of what they believed was highly confidential information. The Americans, Gibson and Landor, had quietly gone into the Canadian venture unannounced, without legal sanction, violating the U.S.–Canadian treaties. The Germans, von Schnitzler and Kindorf, had held secret conferences with Gustave Krupp—who was fighting desperately to remain neutral for fear of a Weimar takeover. If these conferences were made known, Krupp had sworn to expose them. The Frenchman, Louis François D’Almeida, guarded with his very life the extent of his ownership of the Franco-Italian rails. If it were known, it might well be confiscated by the republic. He had purchased the majority shares from the Italian government through plain bribery.
And Myrdal, the heavyset Swede, bulged his eyes in disbelief when Elizabeth Scarlatti spoke so knowingly about the Stockholm exchange. His own company had covertly absorbed Donnenfeld in one of the most complicated mergers imaginable, made possible by the illegal transaction of the American securities. If it became public knowledge, the Swedish law would step in, and he’d be ruined. Only the Englishmen seemed totally poised, totally proud of their achievements. But even this measure of equanimity was misleading. For Sydney Masterson, undisputed heir to the merchant domain of Sir Robert Clive, had only recently concluded the Ceylon arrangements. They were unknown in the import-export world and there were certain agreements subject to question. Some might even say they constituted fraud.
Huddled, quiet-toned conferences took place around the table in the four languages. Elizabeth raised her voice sufficiently to be heard.
“I gather some of you are conferring with your aides—I assume they are your aides. If I’d realized this meeting made provisions for second-level negotiators, I’d have brought along my attorneys. They could have gossiped among themselves while we continue. The decisions we reach tonight, gentlemen, must be our own!”
Heinrich Kroeger sat on the edge of his chair. He spoke harshly, unpleasantly. “I wouldn’t be so sure of any decisions. There are none to be made! You’ve told us nothing which couldn’t be learned by any major accounting firm!”
A number of the men around the table—specifically the two Germans, D’Almeida, Gibson, Landor, Myrdal, and Masterson—avoided looking at him. For Kroeger was wrong.
“You think so? Perhaps. But then I’ve overlooked you, haven’t I?… I shouldn’t do that, you’re obviously terribly important.” Again, a number of the men around the table—excluding those mentioned—had traces of smiles on their lips.
“Your wit is as dull as you are.” Elizabeth was pleased with herself. She was succeeding in this most important aspect of her appearance. She was reaching, provoking Ulster Stewart Scarlett. She continued without acknowledging his remark.
“Strangely obtained assets of two hundred and seventy million sold under the most questionable circumstances would necessitate a loss of at least fifty percent, possibly sixty percent of market value. I’ll grant you the least, so I shall hazard an estimate of one hundred and thirty-five million dollars at the current rates of exchange. One hundred and eight, if you’ve been weak.”
Matthew Canfield lurched from the wall, then held his place.
The men around the table were astonished. The hum of voices increased perceptibly. Aides were shaking their heads, nodding in agreement, raising their eyebrows unable to answer. Each participant thought he knew something of the others. Obviously, none were this knowledgeable of Heinrich Kroeger. They had not even been sure of his status at this table. Elizabeth interrupted the commotion.
“However, Mister Kroeger, surely you know that theft, when eminently provable, is merely subject to proper identification before steps can be taken. There are international courts of extradition. Therefore, it is conceivable that your assets might be calculated at … zero!”
A silence fell over the table as the gentlemen, along with their assistants, gave Heinrich Kroeger their full attention. The words theft, courts, and extradition were words they could not accept at this table. They were dangerous words. Kroeger, the man many of them vaguely feared for reasons solely associated with his enormous influence within both camps, was now warned.
“Don’t threaten me, old woman.” Kroeger’s voice was low, confident. He sat back in his chair and glared at his mother at the opposite end of the long table. “Don’t make charges unless you can substantiate them. If you’re prepared to attempt that, I’m ready to counter.… If you or your colleagues were outnegotiated, this is no place to cry. You won’t get sympathy here! I might even go so far as to say you’re on treacherous ground. Remember that!” He kept staring until Elizabeth could no longer stand the sight of his eyes. She looked away.