Dollar Down (24 page)

Sorry. If we did it, it would be murder without
benefit of self-defense. If we let you hold the gun, you might first
seek revenge.

I looked away from his eyes, but they had already
seared their images into my memory. The faint sound of a
footfall came from the stairway. It was Oddsson. He saw what
had happened and scurried back up the stairs.

I knelt beside Broad Shoulders and said what I knew of
last rites as he lost consciousness. Why I cared, I can't say. I
wasn't a priest or even a believer, but somewhere in my being
still dwelled the boy who was a Catholic.

Sentiment did not affect my instinct for
self-preservation.

If the crack I had heard when I hit Cervantes on top of
his head meant that there was a fracture at the coronal suture,
he was not a threat, at least not until he had recovered in a
hospital. If it was a less severe injury, then Marie and I would
have an exposed rear. Just to be safe, I broke each of his arms
at the elbow.

Then we went to find Geir Oddsson.

Despite a faux gallant protest to Marie about her
coming along, I wanted her with me, precisely because of the
danger. We each held a pistol as I led the way up the
stairs.

At the top was an open sitting room with
floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a walled garden. There was no
sign of anyone. The sitting area extended the length of the
house, with three doors on one side and two on the other. I
tried the door to Sabine's study first. It was unlocked, and the
room unoccupied. Marie kept behind me as we tested the other
doors. Only one was locked.

I knocked.

There was no answer.

"Geir, you've got no one protecting you now. Open the
door, make things easy."

Silence.

I slammed the side of my fist against the door. "Let us
in Geir, before I break in. I'll be angry if I have to do that."

"I'm armed Mick, and I'm calling the police."

I shot two bullets into the door's lock, kicked it open,
and kept well to the side.

Good thing I did. The shotgun blast filled the doorway
and took a few chunks out of the frame.

Marie poked her pistol through the door and fired a
round blindly. Oddsson dropped the shotgun. I rushed in
before anyone else picked it up.

There were no soldiers in the war room, but besides
Oddsson and Alexandra, there were a couple of faces that I
hadn't expected to see. Wu and Gatineau.

In an absurd display of surrender, Oddsson held his
hands up and backed away from the shotgun. "I was afraid,
Mick. You would have done the same."

"I wouldn't have dropped the gun."

The room looked like a control center for a major bank.
There were the same Bloomberg terminals that Bizet had, but
he also had Reuters.

"Excuse me," Gatineau said as though nothing more
untoward had occurred than a spat between siblings. He
walked to a computer, made an entry and spoke into a phone.
One word. "Correct."

"Don't do that again," I said.

He raised an eyebrow.

I almost made a scary snarl and said, "I really mean it,"
but I decided to watch instead. I stood next to him as
confirmation of a transaction flashed on the screen. "That's
interesting."

"Actually, this is none of your affair. You will never
leave France. I will see you put away for the rest of your life."
He must have read my mind a second ago, but he didn't quite
get it right. He made a sneer that wasn't scary.

While I was occupied, Wu looked like he was eager to
make a dive for the shotgun. The only thing that stopped him
was Marie and her pistol. He was obviously smarter than the
guys downstairs.

To remove all temptation, I picked it up. It was pump
action. "How many shells?" I asked Geir and loaded one in the
chamber. He didn't answer.

"I'll use them until I run out, then. Marie, would you
keep count." I aimed at the computer Gatineau had used.

"Four! Five! Four!" Oddsson's voice was strident. That
was very unlike him. "It has a five-shell capacity. One has been
fired."

He'd used the passive voice. Like it wasn't his fault the
gun had tried to kill Marie and me.

"Mick."

There was that velvet alto, a little bit throaty. Despite
the circumstances, Alexandra still aroused an animal urge in
me. She walked close. I could smell her faint perfume, hints of
tangerine and peach.

"What is this about?" she said. "You said you knew who
killed Sabine. There was shooting downstairs. We were afraid
for our lives. Geir's action was courageous. He was trying to
protect us, not hurt you."

"You're rambling." I touched my finger to her lips.

"You know about the trading."

"I've known for a while."

"Do you have any idea how much money is
involved?"

I tipped my head to one side. "A lot."

"Billions upon billions of euros or dollars for each
person in this room." She glanced at Oddsson. He jerked his
chin, a reluctant nod. "That includes you, Mick."

"Guess it's lucky I got here on time. What about her?" I
pointed my chin toward Marie, but Alexandra ignored me. She
was focused, now.

"I don't understand why you think anyone but Trevor
killed Sabine."

"It's a bit more than 'think.' I pretty much know."

"How could you. Nothing else makes sense."

"I knew Trevor. I'm not saying he was incapable of
murder, just that he was incapable of a stupid murder. Killing
Sabine out of jealousy would have been decidedly stupid. He
fled Paris suddenly. The only thing that could have caused him
to do that is fear. Of what?

"He brought two vials of oil back from Venezuela. A
very careful analysis of the sulfur-eating bacteria they
contained might have shown that they did not perform as
advertised. That knowledge would have upset plans to coerce
OPEC to price oil exclusively in euros, which is what started the
dollar's fall."

As if on cue, Gatineau made another entry in the
computer, while I watched. "Correct," he said when Hall recited
details of the trade.

"Exhibit 'A.'" I snatched Gatineau's mobile phone out of
his hand.

Oddsson tensed and stepped toward me.

I pointed the shotgun at his chest.

His expression showed he didn't believe I would shoot
him.

"I most assuredly will, Oddsson."

I put the phone in my pocket and pushed Gatineau
away from the computer.

"Trevor and Sabine were killed because they
threatened the success of your enterprise. There is nothing
stupid about that. As Alexandra just said, billions of dollars or
euros were at stake, but even more important for the funder,
China's ambitions to deliver a devastating blow to the
U.S."

"That's ridiculous!" Wu sounded angry. "If America's
economy is weak, it hurts us."

"In absolute terms, I suppose it would, but not in
relative terms. In the nineteen eighties, when it looked like
Japan might surpass the U.S., a survey asked American
businessmen which they would prefer: U.S. growth at five
percent and Japanese growth at four percent or U.S. growth at
ten percent and Japanese growth at fifteen percent. A great
majority selected the lower growth rate, because it put them
ahead of Japan. The researcher was surprised, but more recent
studies showed the same economic motivation in abstract tests.
You must know the saying, 'My enemy cuts my flesh; I cut his
bone.' That, Mr. Wu, is human nature."

Wu's face reddened. "What do you really want?
Money? You want the biggest share?"

"Money is something that we can accommodate," said
Gatineau. He indicated a clock next to the Reuters terminal. "In
ten minutes and forty-five seconds, we will have earned in
excess of thirty billion euros. You may keep my phone if you
like. We are at the center of our target range. My last
instruction to Mr. Hall was to delay the clearance of all
transactions that would upset our plan. We really don't need
you. Offering you a share is simply an act of good will."

I looked at Marie. Her body language was saying, "Let's
think about this."

"It would cause a lot of havoc wouldn't it?"

"Nothing the world can't recover from. Do you
remember 1971? Nixon was forced to abandon America's
promise to sell gold internationally at thirty-five dollars an
ounce. That destroyed the Bretton Woods accord that fixed
currency exchange rates. For a day or two after that you could
scarcely find any bank that would exchange currencies. Now
the world's no worse for it. It caused some temporary
difficulties, but no one bled over it."

"That's one of the differences, isn't it? Sabine and
Trevor have died over this. That run on gold you mentioned? It
was led by France wasn't it? There's a similarity. Another one
is that when the status quo was lost in 1971, there was no
going back to a gold standard. There won't be revisionism this
time either, but the stakes are bigger now. If China absorbs
Taiwan, it will be a free democracy gone forever. If the dollar
loses its status as the international currency, it will not regain
it."

"Pshaw," said Gatineau. "You're naÏve, if you
think any of this will make a difference regarding your
almighty dollar. It's going to happen. If not now, then later.
Americans will bring their own house down. You are poor
husbands of your wealth. You print dollars carefree to pay your
debts, while the rest of the world has to work for its dollars.
That has been going on for so long that you have forgotten
what it means to earn more than you spend in the global
market."

While Gatineau was talking, I studied the computer
display. He stopped talking when I took out my own phone and
called Jim Burroughs. He sounded like he had made good on his
plan to knock back some boilermakers. "How much would it
take raise the dollar just past the strike target?"

"Are you still trying to save the world, Sanchez?"

"The dollar has been static, because the trading system
is on hold. I have access to a direct feed to LIFFE, and we have
time to change things. Tell me what to do."

"All right, but all they have to do is make a counter
trade. They have more money than we do."

"I can stop it. Don't ask how."

Burroughs gave me a trade order. I entered it in the
computer, but didn't send it. There was still time for Hall to
figure out a ruse and make a new trade.

"What are you doing?"

I glanced at Oddsson. "Sabine's death had nothing to
do with jealously, except perhaps on your part."

"What are saying? I have proved to police that I was
not at home when Sabine died. I had nothing to do with
it."

"You didn't kill her, but I wouldn't say you had nothing
to do with it. I just can't understand how you could have let it
happen. She said she loved you as much as the day you married.
You said so too, but she meant it."

"Sabine was a tramp. You know that."

Free spirit came more readily to my mind, but then I
hadn't been married to her. Oddsson obviously had been hurt
more than he let on, but I wondered if the hurt was more to his
ego than to his heart. "You said you'd learned to live with
her."

Oddsson's voice was soft. "I'd learned to live with our
money. She earned it. I invested it, and quite well."

"But you didn't kill her. Neither did M. Gatineau.
Nevertheless, her death did involve someone who was worried
about the success of this endeavor, especially about the oil
samples. Alexandra sent the vial to Winchell's Houston office
instead of the test center."

"To protect the trading, yes," Alexandra said. "But that
doesn't mean I..."

Oddsson was done listening. He rushed me, shotgun
notwithstanding.

I didn't shoot him. I hit him in the chin with the butt.
That must have hurt for an instant before he went unconscious,
but at least he wouldn't have to hear what else I had to say to
Alexandra.

"You called Wu to tell him to steal the sample I gave to
David."

"Mick, if you're thinking I killed Sabine... How could
you?"

"I don't. It was too good. It had to have been done by a
professional, someone like Cervantes."

"Then what are you accusing me of?"

"This house is very secure. All you did is make sure the
door was unlocked when Sabine invited you into her home. I
expect you went to the study with her and waited."

Alexandra's face drained of color. The birthmark was a
livid orange against her ashen complexion.

"Mick, you can't do this. Not after we were..." She was
crying now. "People will lose fortunes if this doesn't go
through." She clenched her fists. "Do you know what they'll do
to me?"

I had an idea.

"We could still be together, Mick. Together and rich
beyond anything you could dream of. Please."

I glanced at Marie. She looked like she was rooting for
Alexandra's side, at least a little bit. The bad guys had made us
quite an offer, but that isn't what made it a hard call. I looked
back at Alexandra. Even in anger and despair, she was a
beauty.

"I have a sleep dysfunction," I said. "I don't dream
much."

I pressed "Enter" on the computer and waited until a
"Transmission OK" message was displayed. As soon as it did,
the dollar started rising.

Alexandra shouted, "It isn't too late. We can make
another trade." She rushed to the keyboard and started
typing.

"Be careful." I put the shotgun's muzzle against the
computer and shot it through the motherboard. There was a
similar computer next to it. "This must be the back-up." I aimed
at it.

Alexandra put her arms around my neck and squeezed.
"Don't."

With Alexandra wrapped around my neck, Wu got
brave and made a move. Marie stopped him cold.

I almost laughed when I saw what she had done. The
barrel was shoved between his legs from behind. In a large
enough population of men, you'll find at least one character
who can stare death in the eye without blinking. Aim south and
we all flinch.