Bernoulli decided that it would definitely not help anybody if he stayed in bed any longer. There was one way in which he might be able to cut right through the dilemma facing him: by employment of the most honoured of European police tactics—the confrontation.
First, he would have to tackle Walter Hofer. Then Stanley Rosen. And finally, confront both of them, separately of course, with Rolf Lutz of Swiss Security Consultants. He would get to the bottom of this yet.
Dr. Walter Hofer had also not gotten up immediately after waking on that Thursday morning. For he also had things to think about. His was a position where real difficulties, not to speak of downright public failure, were unthinkable. They had to stay unthinkable. Unfortunately, in recent years the possibility could no longer be dismissed as totally absurd. The men at the top of Rolls Royce had found this out. So had those of Penn Central. Hofer had known men from both companies. They had his sympathy. But his own position was even more difficult. He was a banker. And one thing bankers never do is make a mistake and admit it. They always find a way out. So must he. Well, he thought, I’ll know a lot more in just a few hours.
“Walter,” came his wife’s voice from downstairs. “Will you be ready soon?”
“Yes, Martha. I’ll be down in five minutes. Please go ahead. I’ll join you right away.”
As usual he took an almost cold shower and also as usual donned a dark blue suit. Except for vacations and formal affairs, Dr. Hofer inevitably wore a blue suit. He had twenty-one in his closet. He also wore blue socks, black shoes, and tended toward dark shades of red in his ties. His wife always picked his suits out for him before he rose in the morning. Also his ties. In fact, she also bought them all. The ties, that is. The suits came at the rate of two every month. His tailor brought them up to the house for the last fittings. Martha supervised that part of it. The results were always good.
Within ten minutes Hofer was at the breakfast table.
“Aren’t you going to drink some orange juice this morning?” his wife asked.
“No, just coffee and a sweet roll, Martha.”
“You do feel all right, don’t you, Walter?”
“Of course. Just didn’t sleep too well last night. Probably the Föhn. Anyway, it’s getting near the end of the week. Maybe both of us could just take it easy this weekend. Stay at home and relax. What do you say?” Hofer drank his coffee black. During the past ten years he had not gained a pound. His tailor had told him more than once that he had never seen a man who held his figure so constant for so long.
“Oh yes, Walter. That would be nice for a change. But there is one thing. You must give that talk on Sunday evening in Altdorf to the Ecumenical Society. But I know you always enjoy those meetings. So I’m sure it won’t take much preparation.”
“I’d forgotten about that. You’re right, though. I should be able to draft that out on Sunday morning. Tell me, do they expect a good crowd?”
“I’m sure so. You know how curious people are about you. Many cannot understand how you find time for church affairs with all the other things you must attend to. Probably some are jealous and come in the hope of seeing you make a fool of yourself.”
“Now Martha. But I must be going. Is Heinrich waiting?”
“Yes, he pulled into the driveway just before you came down.”
“Fine. I must go. I’ll see you around six.”
Walter Hofer gave his wife the usual peck on the cheek and, with a final wave of the hand, disappeared into the back seat of the bank limousine.
The early morning traffic up the right bank of the Lake of Zurich was extremely heavy and the road narrow.
“And how are you this morning, Heinrich?” Hofer asked his chauffeur.
“Couldn’t be better, sir. Won exactly 526 francs in the football pool yesterday. Hit ten out of twelve correctly. The wife and I went out last night for dinner to celebrate. First time we’ve done that during the week for years. You ever try the pools, sir?”
“No, I’m afraid not, Heinrich. I wouldn’t even know how to fill out one of those coupons,” said Hofer, laughing. “Anyway, just imagine if I hit the jackpot and it got all over the papers. That wouldn’t do at all.”
“No, you’re right, sir.”
“Quite a bit of fog, this morning. When do you expect to get to the bank?”
“It’ll thin out as usual within a kilometre or two. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
In exactly fourteen minutes they passed the front of the massive entrance to the General Bank of Switzerland and, after rounding the corner, disappeared into the huge underground parking facility.
“Will you be needing me this morning?” asked the chauffeur as Hofer stepped out.
“No. I’ll see you down here around five-thirty this afternoon. And don’t worry about the weekend, Heinrich. I will be staying at home, so feel free to work out anything you might have in mind with the family.”
“Thank you, sir, I’ll do that. I think I’ll take the boy to the football game on Sunday. Quarter finals in the European Cup, you know.”
But Dr. Hofer had already turned his mind to other things as he walked to the elevators.
“Guten Tag, Herr Doktor.”
“Guten Tag, Herr Doktor.”
The morning ritual. Hofer merely tipped his hat to his people.
“Guten Tag, Herr Doktor.” This time it was Kellermann.
“Herr Kellermann. Say, would you perhaps join me for a moment in the elevator.”
When the next elevator arrived, the growing group of incoming executives waited respectfully as Hofer waved Kellermann into the lift. No one else joined them. It was an unwritten rule of the bank that Dr. Walter Hofer always went first class, in splendid isolation.
Both men stepped out on the fourth floor.
“Tell me, Kellermann, what’s developed on the fellow from New York?”
“I expect we’ll have a full report waiting for us on the Telex. But I’m afraid that the news will not be good. Late yesterday afternoon I received a call from the Basel police, asking about Rosen.”
“What did they want to know?”
“The usual questions about his relationship with us. A kommissar named Bucher. He was quite firm about it. Said that if necessary he would get a court order. I felt that there would be no sense in going through that, so I did confirm that he was a client of ours and did an extremely large volume of business with us.”
“Did they want details?”
“No. But I’m positive that we have not heard the end of it by any means.”
“Is it really any worry of ours? After all, we did put a stop to him by asking for that additional $50 million margin.”
“Not exactly. The margin arrived first thing this morning.”
“And what did you do?”
“Well, what could I do? We made our conditions and he met them. We have been proceeding on his instructions.”
“Sometimes, Kellermann—” Hofer decided not to finish his thoughts aloud. Instead he turned abruptly without any further word and moved down the corridor to his office. It was seven forty-five central European time.
His secretary appeared the minute he reached his desk.
“Dr. Hofer, there are dozens of people who have already been trying to reach you this morning. At least half of them from the press. What should we do?”
“The usual. Tell them I’m not available. You know whom to put through if it’s absolutely necessary.”
“The Times man has been especially insistent. They have always been quite decent toward us, you know. He’s on the line right now, again.”