The Scarlatti Inheritance(88)
“No.… We’ll handle it ourselves.”
“Waste of time, you know. After all, embassy personnel have dossiers just as Bertholde has. How many are mountain climbers?”
The field accountant turned away from James Derek and refilled his glass. “That puts it in a police category. We don’t want that. We’ll make the interrogations.”
“Just as you say. It shouldn’t be difficult. Twenty to thirty people at most. You should track it down quickly.”
“We will.” Canfield walked to his bed and sat down.
“Tell me,” said the Englishman, finishing the last of his whiskey, “do you have a current list of your embassy personnel? Up-to-date, that is?”
“Of course.”
“And you’re absolutely sure that members of the staff working there now were part of this securities swindle last year?”
“Yes. I’ve told you that At least, the State Department thinks so. I wish you’d stop harping on it.”
“I shan’t any longer. It’s late and I have a great deal of work on my desk which I’ve neglected.” The British operative rose from the chair and went to the bureau where he had put his hat “Good night, Canfield.”
“Oh, you’re leaving?… Was there anything in the Bertholde file? I’ll read it but right now I’m bushed.”
James Derek stood by the door looking down at the exhausted field accountant. “One item I’m sure you’ll be interested in.… Several probably, but one comes to mind.”
“What’s that?”
“Among the marquis’s athletic pursuits is mountain climbing. The imminent sportsman is, in fact, a member of the Matterhorn Club. He’s also one of the few hundred who’ve scaled the north side of the Jungfrau. No mean feat, I gather.”
Canfield stood up angrily and shouted at the Englishman. “Why didn’t you say so, for Christ’s sake?”
“I frankly thought you were more interested in his associations with your embassy. That’s really what I was looking for.”
The field accountant stared at Derek. “So it was Bertholde. But why?… Unless he knew she wouldn’t open the door for anyone.”
“Perhaps. I really wouldn’t know. Enjoy the dossier, Canfield. It’s fascinating.… However, I don’t think you’ll find much in it related to the American embassy.… But that’s not why you wanted it, is it?”
The Britisher let himself out the door, closing it sharply behind him. Canfield stared after him, confused but too tired to care.
CHAPTER 30
The telephone awoke him.
“Matthew?”
“Yes, Jan?” He held the phone and the blood drained from his arm and it hurt.
“I’m in the lobby. I told Mother Scarlatti I had some shopping to do.”
The field accountant looked at his watch. It was eleven thirty. He had needed the sleep. “What happened?”
“I’ve never seen her like this, Matthew. She’s frightened.”
“That’s new. Did she bring up the Sheffield business?”
“No. I had to. She brushed it aside and said the situation had changed.”
“Nothing else? Just that?”
“Yes.… There was something else. She said she was going to talk with you this afternoon. She says there are problems back in New York that have to be attended to. I think she’s going to tell you that she’s decided to leave England and go home.”
“That’s impossible! What did she say exactly?”
“She was vague. Just that Chancellor was a fool and that it was senseless throwing away time on a wild-goose chase.”
“She doesn’t believe that!”
“I know she doesn’t. She wasn’t convincing either. But she means it. What are you going to do?”
“Take her by surprise, I hope. Stay out shopping for at least two hours, will you?”
They made plans for a late lunch and said good-bye. Thirty minutes later the field accountant walked across the Savoy lobby into the grill and ordered breakfast. It was no time to go without food. Without energy.
He carried the Bertholde file with him. He promised himself that he’d read through it, or most of it, at the table. He opened it and placed it to the left of his plate and started at the top of the first page.
Jacques Louis Aumont Bertholde, fourth marquis of Chatellerault.
It was a dossier like so many other dossiers on the very wealthy. Exhaustive details about the family lineage. The positions and titles held by each member for several generations in business, government, and society—all impressive sounding, all meaningless to anyone else. The Bertholde holdings—enormous—mainly, as Elizabeth Scarlatti had said, within British territories. The specific education of the subject in question and his subsequent rise in the world of commerce. His clubs—all very correct. His hobbies—automobiles, horse breeding, dogs—also correct. The sports he excelled in—polo, sailing, the Matterhorn and the Jungfrau—not only correct, but colorful, fitting. And finally the character estimates elicited from his contemporaries. The most interesting part and yet the part many professionals disregarded. The flattering contributions were generally supplied by friends or associates hoping to gain. The unflattering, by enemies or competitors with a wish to undermine.