Randall shook his head. ‘No. It’s the interest on them.’
‘The interest on them?’ I exclaimed. ‘How much?’
‘Eleven hundred and fifty,’ Randall murmured.
I turned to Saeton ‘Can’t you raise that?’ I said. ‘You could sell something.’
He shook his head. ‘There’s nothing here that isn’t essential,’ he said dully. ‘If we sold any part of the equipment we couldn’t go on. Besides, it’s all mortgaged. Everything in this hangar is mortgaged.’
‘But surely you’ve got some money of your own?’ I persisted.
‘Blast you!’ he shouted, swinging round on me. ‘You don’t have to hammer the truth of this home to me. I don’t possess any money at all. For the past month we’ve lived on credit. My bank account is overdrawn to the tune of more than a hundred pounds. Carter is in the same boat. And don’t for God’s sake start asking me if I haven’t any friends. I haven’t any friends to the tune of eleven hundred quid.’ He turned to Randall and Reinbaum. ‘Now get the hell out of here, the pair of you. Take what action you like.’
They turned to go.
‘Just a minute,’ I called to them. The amount is eleven hundred and fifty?’
It was Reinbaum who answered. ‘The exact amount is eleven hundred and fifty-two pounds four shillings and sevenpence.’
‘Then perhaps you would make me out a receipt,’ I said. I had got my wallet out and was extracting my cheque book.
He stood there staring at me as though a pit had suddenly opened at his feet. ‘A receipt, please, Mr Reinbaum,’ I repeated.
He came slowly towards me. ‘How do I know that your cheque will be honoured? I do not give a receipt-’
‘You have the law to protect you in a case like that,’ I said. ‘Can I see the documents proving that you are the legal possessor of these mortgages?’ I was enjoying myself, enjoying the sudden surprised silence that descended on the hangar. Nobody spoke, and Reinbaum stared at me with baffled eyes. For some reason he didn’t want to be paid. I thought of how I had got that money and I was suddenly glad I’d ferried those planes. Somehow this made the racket worth while.
Saeton was the first to come to life. ‘Just a minute, Fraser. Apart from the fact that I can’t allow you to do this, it won’t help you know. We owe money. Also we’ve got to be carried for two months.’
‘I realise that,’ I said. ‘What’s the absolute minimum that will carry you to the flying stage?’
He hesitated. ‘About another thousand.’ His voice suddenly took on new life. ‘You see, we’ve got the metal and the castings. We’ve got everything. All we need is to cover some of the bills that’ll come in and our living-’ His sudden excitement faded and his words stopped. To carry us and pay the interest on these mortgages you’ve got to have nearly two thousand five hundred.’
I sat down and wrote out Reinbaum’s cheque. ‘Who shall I make it out to?’ I asked him.
‘Weiner, Reinbaum and Company,’ he answered sullenly.
As I entered the amount on the cheque counterfoil Saeton touched my shoulder. ‘Have you really got two thousand five hundred in your account?’ he asked almost unbelievingly.
‘Not in my account,’ I answered. ‘But with my life policy I’m good for that much.’
He didn’t say anything, but his hand gripped my shoulder for a moment.
I checked the documents Reinbaum reluctantly produced from his brief-case. Then I gave him the cheque and got his receipt. All this time Saeton had been standing over us and as the little man straightened up, he said, ‘It was the engines you wanted, wasn’t it, Reinbaum?’ There was a dangerous quietness about his voice.
‘I do not want anything,’ Reinbaum answered him. ‘Only the moneys.’ But I don’t think he expected Saeton to believe him, for he added quickly, ‘My clients are interested in the charter business.’
‘And who exactly are your clients?’ Saeton asked in the same quiet voice.
‘I am sorry. I cannot tell you that.’
Saeton took him gently by the collar. ‘It was the engines they wanted, wasn’t it? Somebody tipped them off that you held the mortgages.’ He turned to Randall. ‘Had you borrowed on these mortgages when you were down here last, in October?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ Randall answered unwillingly. ‘Possibly.’
‘Did you mention it to anyone — Else, for instance?’
Randall flushed. ‘I may have done. I can’t remember. I-’
‘You tell a stray D.P. and you don’t tell me.’ Saeton’s face was white with anger. ‘And you’re a director of my company. My God!’ He picked little Reinbaum up by his collar with his two hands and shook him. ‘Who are these clients of yours?’ he shouted, and I thought he’d break the little man apart.
Reinbaum’s spectacles fell to the ground. His plump white hand moved agitatedly with a flash of gold. ‘Please,’ he cried. ‘I will have the police-’
‘Oh, no you won’t.’ Saeton laughed through his clenched teeth. ‘You’ve no friends here. They’ll swear I never laid a finger on you. Now, then. Who are your clients?’ He shook the man till he screamed and then he flung him away like a discarded sack. Reinbaum stumbled, caught his foot against a stool and went sprawling on to the dusty concrete. ‘Well?’ Saeton demanded, standing over him.
The man was fumbling blindly for his glasses. Saeton kicked them over to him and then picked up the brief-case, searching through it, strewing the papers he’d discarded over the floor. He found what he wanted in the end, holding it up, his eyes darkening with anger as he-read it. ‘My God!’ he exclaimed. ‘So that’s it.’ He stuffed the letter into the pocket of his jacket and stared down at Reinbaum. ‘How did they discover I’d got the prototype?’ he demanded. ‘How did they know that?’ He turned away as Reinbaum shook his head obstinately. ‘All right. It doesn’t matter.’ He tossed the brief-case and the rest of the papers on to the man’s prostrate body. ‘Now, get out!’
Reinbaum seized hold of the case, bundled the documents into it and fled.
‘Well, that’s that,’ Saeton said. He was standing there in the centre of the hangar like a bull that has disposed of one matador and is glaring round in search of the next. His gaze fixed on Randall. ‘Do you realise what you’ve done? You bloody nearly-’ His mouth clamped shut and he came steadily down the hangar. ‘You’re not fit to be a director of a company.’ He stopped and Randall muttered inarticulate apologies. ‘Sit down,’ Saeton said, his voice shaking with anger. ‘Now write me out a letter of resignation.’
‘Suppose I refuse to resign?’ Randall’s face was pale and though his head was turned towards Saeton his eyes slid away from him.
‘Refuse to resign!’ There were white patches under Saeton’s eyes. ‘Whilst we’ve been slaving our guts out up here to build something worth while, what have you been doing? Gambling. Gambling with the future of my company. Well, Carter and I aren’t working twenty-four hours a day to make a fortune for a man who has never done a thing to help us, who-’
‘That’s not true,’ Randall answered. ‘Who brought the thing out of Germany in the first place? You’d never have got it back here unless I’d smuggled it out in one of my vehicles. Who’s paid for all the development work? Every time you’ve asked for money-’
‘It’s all covered by those mortgages,’ Saeton cut in, his voice suddenly quiet. ‘You’ve never risked a penny, whilst Carter and I have sunk everything we had without security. The company owes you nothing, except a fee for smuggling the prototype out, and I’ll see you’re paid for that. As for the mortgages, it’s not my fault you’ve borrowed on them and gambled away the proceeds.’ He paused for breath. ‘You’ve only yourself to blame, Dick,’ he added, almost gently. He pulled a pen out of his pocket and pushed it into Randall’s hand. ‘I suggest “pressure of other business”.