A Shroud for Jesso (11 page)

“I said, dear Jack, is your business so important—”

“Yeah. He owes me five hundred bucks.”

This amused the Baron.

“Five hundred dollars!” He whinnied. “You mean you came here from out of town, broke in at an early hour, because he owes you five hundred dollars?”

“My life savings, Helmut.”

He leaned forward and put one hand on Jesso’s knee.

“Johannes can be unreasonable, dear Jack. But let me help you with the money. Really, it means little enough to me, and I’ll speak to Johannes about—“

“I’ll wait. You don’t owe me a thing.” Jesso moved his leg out of the way.

Von Lohe laughed. “Why should you be afraid to be indebted to me? And besides, my influence with Johannes is such—“

“So go influence him.” Jesso got up abruptly. He was losing his patience.

“For example,” said the Baron, and he studied his fingernails, “if you’ve had a quarrel with our Johannes—and how easy it is to quarrel with him—you would find that my efforts in your behalf could work wonders.”

“I’ll do my own promoting, thanks.”

“My position, dear Jack—” Then he stopped. They both heard the front door open.

Old Hofer was scurrying across the hall and two other servants were scrambling into position.

“Send for the Baron,” said a voice. Kator was there.

Helmut lost some of his baronial air, but he rose with a studied grace and walked toward the hall without another word.

“And send for my sister,” said the voice from the hall.

Kator had crossed the hall with that hard click of his shoes. He turned to no one and slowed down just long enough to give old Hofer a chance to swing the library doors wide. Kator went through and the doors clicked shut. When Hofer came back to the hall, von Lohe stood by, watching the servants gather up the luggage. He was fitting a Turkish cigarette into a silver holder.

“Herr Kator wishes to see the Herr Baron.”

Von Lohe placed the holder in his mouth and fished for his lighter.

“That is, immediately, Herr Baron.” Hofer bowed and disappeared into a side hall. The Baron went into the library without having lit his cigarette.

The library was a room like a hall. The floor was covered with two giant rugs and one wall held a fireplace roofed like a house. There were more Atlases. They held the fireplace open. The ceiling and walls were of walnut except where the bookshelves had been replaced by locked cabinets. The cabinets were steel. They looked odd and cold in the ornate room, and the bleak light from the French windows gave them the air of a row of cells. There was a disciplined garden on the other side of the windows, a painstaking affair of different greens and thin little walks. Kator’s desk faced the other way. His chair was empty. Von Lohe walked to the high-backed seat that faced the empty fireplace and said, “Good morning, Johannes.”

Kator’s arm waved him to step closer. “Where is Renette?”

“I don’t know, Johannes. Hofer says—”

“I know what Hofer says. Sit down. When she comes back, send her to me immediately.”

“But I don’t know when she—”

“She’s your wife, isn’t she?” Kator sounded impatient.

“She’s your sister, isn’t she?” said von Lohe, and the spite in his voice was pure.

Kator got out of his chair and walked to the window. His back was turned when he said, “Aren’t you happily married, my dear Helmut?” It sounded so casual that the Baron started to fidget. “Are you not being maintained in a style that you could otherwise no longer afford?”

Von Lohe’s voice was spiteful. “And my title, I suppose, my exclusive contacts have been of no value to you? I remind you, Johannes, that without my social position to cloak your activities—“

“Speaking of bargains,” Kator said, going to his desk, “have you finally managed that matter with Zimmer?”

“It so happens, Johannes, I’m seeing young Zimmer this afternoon, at the club. I think—“

“Don’t think, don’t make excuses, just produce! This matter has been dragging for months!”

“But Johannes, there is just so much I can do. The Zimmer family has been extremely cautious ever since the war. My good name alone cannot—“

“Remind young Zimmer,” Kator said, “that I still possess the copies of patent trades that his father’s company has engineered, and that the Americans have no knowledge of any of this. So far. Tell him so far! If I cannot place my men in Zimmer’s American subsidiaries, I will begin to make things known.”

“But they have been friends of my family for—”

“I am not concerned with your family, only with the effect of your name. Now then, I called you for other reasons. Without going into details, let me impress upon you that my trip to the States has produced complications—possibly minor, possibly dangerous. Look into the garden.” Helmut went to the window and looked. “Do you see anything?”

There was nothing except the garden.

“I have stationed six men there. Several more are in front. They are here to intercept any possible danger.”

“Danger?” Helmut licked his red lips and sat down.

“Yes. And until further notice you will not leave the house except in the company of one of my men.”

“Johannes, please. What are we afraid of? You are making it worse with this secrecy.”

Kator pulled out one of his olive-colored cigars and stroked it. “I had dealings with a man, a foreigner. The fact is, I do not know where he is at the moment. Until he is found, I must remain extremely alert. He and I have a debt of—“

“A debt!”

“What is it, Helmut?”

Helmut had started to blink with a nervous speed and he sat upright, as if suspended by the head. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“Helmut! Make sense.”

“Is it—is it five hundred dollars? Do you owe—”

“What?”

“Just this,” said Jesso, and he kicked the door shut with his foot. Hofer was with him, but couldn’t keep up with him. Jesso shot his hands into his pockets and stopped.

“Forget the phone, Baron,” he said, and watched Kator pull back his hand.

Kator sat still like a cat. That’s when von Lohe recovered. He jumped up and started to yell.

“But I swear, Mr. Jesso, I never came near that phone. Johannes, tell Mr. Jesso—“

“Shut up,” said Kator. “He didn’t mean you.”

Everything was still for a moment.

“I meant Superspy, here. You, Kator, you understand, don’t you, Kator?”

“Of course, Jesso.”

“I bet you do. So send everybody out.”

Kator did. He nodded at the butler and at the Baron.

He nodded at both in the same way and then they left. The two men looked at each other. Then they walked to the fireplace and sat down on facing sofas.

“You crapped out yesterday, Kator.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You crapped out. Your two medics weren’t so good.”

“I know. We found them.”

“Were they alive?”

“Partly, Jesso.”

“You know why, Kator?”

Kator waited.

“Because I didn’t half try.”

“I had assumed it was sentimentality.”

“Now hear this, Kator. You’re going to crap out once more, and that time I’m going to be trying all the way.”

“You are threatening me?”

“I’m telling you. And I’m telling you more. That message from Snell I gave you is bunk. I’ve got the right one, you don’t. How much are you selling your merchandise for?”

Kator started to smirk, dropped it.

“Hundred grand? Two hundred?”

“That information would hardly be useful to you.”

“Don’t worry about that part, Kator. Just worry about how you’re ever going to know if I gave you the right info. Just worry about losing your price, worry about selling worthless stuff, worry about what’ll happen to your business, to you, if you should pull a boner somebody else has to pay for. Those guys you’re selling to, are they gonna say, ‘Forget it, Kator, dear chum, we all make mistakes'?”

Kator didn’t bother to answer.

“They’re gonna send out a torpedo for you. A German if you’re in Germany, a Turk if you’re in Turkey, and Satan himself if you should be in hell when they find out.”

“I assume you have a proposition,” said Kator, and the formal words came out stiffly.

“No, Kator. You’re almost crapping out again. I’m giving you a chance to come in out of the rain. You show me your buyers, I show them the right dope. It’ll cost you half. Half of whatever you get. That’s the only way the deal is ever going to go straight. You know why, Kator? If I sell them the wrong goods, I’ll be as bad off as you, and that’s never going to happen to me, Kator.”

Kator’s success had come from the man himself; his fast mind, his unmuddled decisiveness, and his ability to dismiss his personal feelings. This made him remarkable, and he showed it now.

“Very well. I will begin my arrangements today. You may stay in this house in the meantime. Hofer will provide for your comfort.”

They looked at each other without even trying to hide their thoughts. One was out for the other, and each understood the game. And for the moment neither had anything to fear from the other.

“It is customary in your country to shake hands on an agreement. But you and I, Jesso, can do without it.”

“That’s clear.”

“Particularly since both of us cannot win, you understand?”

“I told you you’d crap out.”

“You will get your money, I will make my sale. I’m not speaking of that.”

“Just watch it, Kator.” Jesso got up.

“I’ll begin my arrangements today.”

“You can start right now. You owe me five hundred.”

When Hofer had taken Jesso to his room on the second floor of the villa and when he was about to leave, he was given a ten-dollar tip, which Jesso peeled off a roll of five hundred.

Renette von Lohe looked as if she belonged in the place. There were no jewelry counters, just low little tables and wide chairs. The walls were of black glass and the ceiling was held up by bronze columns. The table in front of her was almost bare; just two bracelets lay there.

“Madame has hardly a choice,” said Mr. Totanus of Totanus, Dorn, and Son. “Beauty is its own absolute, madame, and if I may be permitted—“

Renette looked up and shook her head. She smiled as a hostess would smile, with very well-mannered kindness, but Mr. Totanus stopped as if he had been slapped. Renette von Lohe, who was also beautiful in the eyes of old Mr. Totanus, gave the impression that only she might decide what was absolute.

“They sparkle too much,” she said.

Her voice sounded warm, except for the way she ended a sentence. She ended it as if that were the absolute end. That can be a shock to anyone, be it Totanus trying to sell a ten-thousand-mark bracelet or someone who has long given up trying to sell anything.

“You know, Mr. Totanus,” and Renette crossed her legs so that even old Mr. Totanus began to feel excited, “I think I like something warmer. Not diamonds. I like smoke opal.”

The firm had smoke opal. The reason it had smoke opal was that during the war the volume of diamond trading had gone down to near zero and the firm had handled a number of lesser stones, even the semiprecious. But Mr. Totanus didn’t know just where the opals were.

“Madame,” he began, but then Renette put her small feet together and got ready to leave.

“I won’t have to look at them,” she said, “because I know you will pick the most beautiful ones for me. And set them square, as you did in this bracelet. Make the same kind of bracelet.” After dangling the one she meant over one finger, she dropped it back on the velvet pad so that old Mr. Totanus quivered.

Renette smiled and stood up. She did it all in one movement, then stood to pat herself into straight lines while old Mr. Totanus looked away and fussed with the mistreated bracelet. He had started to quiver again.

“Will you send it to me?” she asked, but-it was hardly a question.

Totanus rose, doing it awkwardly, because Renette hadn’t bothered to step back. This was a rotten day. Smoke opals. She could afford both of those bracelets on the table, but she wanted smoke opals.

“Shall I bill the Baron?” said Totanus when he followed Renette to the door.

“No,” she said. “Send the bill to my brother.”

Renette got into the Daimler and told the chauffeur to drive her home. She sat back in the cushions and thought what a beautiful bracelet it was going to be. Perhaps she should have let Helmut pay for it. But that was ridiculous. Then Helmut would have to go to her brother and he would pay anyway. Besides, Johannes never argued about her bills; he only argued with Helmut.

The car circled a square with a café on the island in the middle. Renette could see the string orchestra behind the potted trees. A cherry
Torte
or perhaps some mocha ice would be a wonderful thing now. There was a large clock at one end of the traffic island and it said twelve noon. Johannes must be back. She bit her lip, decided against the café. If Johannes was home, she did not want him to wait. No, that’s not the way it was. If Johannes was home, waiting, she would be afraid of offending him.

Now the square was gone. Renette looked into her purse for a cigarette but didn’t find one. She tapped on the glass behind the chauffeur and when he looked she made a sign as if she were smoking. The chauffeur opened the glass, gave her his pack, closed the partition again.

Renette smoked. He has a nice neck, she thought, a nice strong neck coming out of the stiff uniform collar. With a strong neck like that, and the way he sat at the wheel, it was strange how such a man can act like a—She couldn’t think of the word. Act scared, she decided. Or fluttery. It made her think of her husband, which made her laugh.

The car pulled up under the porte-cochere of the villa and Renette hoped that her brother would not be there.

She couldn’t tell by the way Hofer opened the door, but by the time she had asked him Kator came across the hall.

“Where have you been?” he said.

He wouldn’t care where she had been, but she saw he was in a foul mood.

“Are you all right?” he said, and this time she was surprised. It hadn’t been casual and yet it didn’t sound sharp.