‘Perhaps another interview in the newspaper?’ I suggested.
His smile was hopeless. ‘It might help. But words aren’t enough. Not just now. For a while we might have to lay our money on the table.’
‘I don’t understand you, Mr Roffy.’
He sighed and ran his fingers through his distinguished locks. He cleared his throat. ‘I’m willing to put up $150,000 in cash right now. If each of us invested the same amount in the company that would show we meant business. It would also keep our credit good. What we lose from Congress we might gain locally. That way, there would be no loss of momentum. There are a lot of smaller people in this city who depend on us, even now.’
‘I realise that, Mr Roffy.’ Of course I was thoroughly taken aback. Having allowed them to believe I was as wealthy as themselves I now had no way of refusing what was a perfectly reasonable suggestion. ‘My money is tied up in foreign bonds and banks, as I’m sure you appreciate. There is no way in which I could rapidly raise the sum you suggest.’
He was regretful. ‘It might prove our only answer, colonel, believe me.’
When he had gone I returned to bed and was joined by Mrs Trubbshaw with whom I shared a small sniff from my declining cocaine supply. She had heard only a fraction of the conversation and of course she was the last person in whom I could confide my dilemma. I felt my position not merely embarrassing but also to some degree dangerous. In Memphis the six-shooter was still regarded in many quarters as the best means of settling affairs of honour, ‘Is Mr Roffy worried about the airship accident?’ asked Mrs Trubbshaw later. ‘Did you have a financial interest in it?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’ I could afford to admit to no one that I was virtually destitute. Everything depended on my blueprints gaining the reality of metal and wood. Thereafter without doubt the money would come in. Until then I would be separated from Esmé. I could not bear the thought. She trusted me to send for her. Memphis, too, had high expectations of me. My gigantic six-engined passenger aeroplane with the four stacks of wings and four separate ‘carriages’ was due to begin production the following year. Local factories were expecting orders. My radio-beam energy projector should be at the prototype stage within months and my radio-controlled automatic landing system was to grace the main tower of the aerodrome, now due to be sited at Park Field. Models had been made, artist’s projections prepared. Every stage was planned and a great many Memphians were expecting their fees. Once we had news from Washington confirming our Federal funding, every major financial personage in Memphis was ready to invest, as was the city under the guidance of Boss Crump. Yet now it seemed all of this was in peril unless I could raise what to these people was a tiny sum. I had at least to make some attempt to raise it.
As soon as Mrs Trubbshaw had left to keep her afternoon appointments I went downstairs to the Western Union office and sent a wire to Paris, to Kolya, my only real hope. There was no time for mysteries. I wrote: must have $150,000 for important venture, matter of grave urgency. Peterson. I took the risk and for my return address gave c/o Western Union, Memphis, Tennessee. The officer assured me he would let me know as soon as there was a reply. He gave me a copy of the wire. This would enable me to prove to Mr Roffy my serious intention of raising the capital. I telephoned my partner at the rented house in Poplar Avenue, near Overton Park, which we also used as a business address. I said I had some information for him. He suggested we meet that evening at a private club called May’s in Front Street.
For the next hour or so I walked aimlessly around downtown Memphis, staring in store windows, inspecting the wrought-iron pillars of those covered sidewalks which seem to exist nowhere these days but which were so functional, buying a paper cone of chocolate candy, studying the mass of signs along Main Street, and eventually finding myself on the steps of the eight-storeyed neo-Arcadian fortress which was actually the Union Station. Once there, I picked up several timetables, praying that I would not have to leave Memphis as hastily as I had left certain other cities in the past. I had still not allowed enough time for Kolya’s reply. I took a cab to the Zoo in Overton Park and wasted another hour with the somewhat miserable representatives of American and African wildlife. At dusk, I returned to the Adler building and the Western Union office. No reply had yet been received to my telegram.
Determined to maintain morale, I dressed in my best evening clothes and took a taxi to Front Street. The club was in a private house, once used as a steamboat company’s offices, a few blocks from the Post Office. There were a few lights on the iron bridges over the river and some from the cluster of steamboats by the levee but otherwise the area felt deserted. I entered May’s and had my topcoat and hat taken by a pretty octoroon wearing a frock so short it resembled a Greek tunic. I began to feel more comfortable. There was a warmth about such establishments which excluded all the outer world’s cares. Mr Roffy, too, had made some attempt to improve his appearance. Again he looked the dignified Southern elder he was. He smiled as he got up from the couch in the corner of what May called her ‘ballroom’ and came towards me. We went upstairs to a private apartment whose walls were completely covered in dark yellow and red velvet drapes and whose main furnishings consisted of a huge ornamental bed, a gilt chair and a wash stand. I showed him the copy of the message I had sent. He beamed with relief. ‘That will do the trick, I’m sure. I’m so sorry to put you to this inconvenience, colonel. But confidence has to be maintained. It’s crucial as I know you understand. As soon as you receive confirmation, have the funds cabled to the First National Bank. Then we’ll turn them into cash.’
I was surprised. ‘Surely that will invite unwelcome attention?’
‘We need all the attention we can get, colonel. Mr Gilpin’s in Washington right now, getting his money moved and mine’s already at the bank, in a safety deposit. The moment it’s all together I’ll be standing by with the photographers. Believe me, colonel, there’s nothing impresses people more than the sight of a pile of real dollar bills. In these parts that will provide better proof of our sincerity and dedication than a letter of unlimited credit on the Bank of England.’
‘Well, Mr Roffy, I pray you’re right. It’s extremely tiresome and a little complicated for me to have so much money cabled all at once. You know how the French are about such things.’ I did not for a moment believe Kolya could lay hands on so large an amount, but even if he sent a sixth of it I knew it would be enough to prove my financial standing. In a few days the Roma disaster would fade from the public eye and things would return to normal. The American newspapers required fresh sensations more than most. Doubtless some terrible fire or a collapsing building would serve to drive the airship crash from any place of importance in the public’s imagination. Meanwhile I would explain how my funds were being sluggishly liquidated, on account of French government policy, and then they would no longer be needed. This rational view of the matter was coloured a little with anxiety. Next day, when no cable arrived from Kolya, I sent another: money matter of urgent moment, please respond. This one I did not show to Mr Roffy when he called by on his way to lunch with Mr Gilpin (‘Back from Washington with a carpetbag full of bills’) who was staying at the Gayoso Hotel. It occurred to me I had heard nothing from Kolya because I no longer had his current address. Ironically, he might even be on his way to the United States, bringing Esmé with him.
It was frustrating to me that I could not let Kolya know more, but I neither wished to involve him in my troubles nor did I intend to reveal my whereabouts to the French police. Perhaps I had already gone too far. Kolya might believe he protected me by not responding. On the following Wednesday I had still heard nothing. I placated Mr Roffy by telling him my French bank was actually the branch of a Swiss one. The Swiss bank was claiming that there was no branch of the First National in Memphis. I next resorted to sending a cable (as ‘Peterson’) to my old bank, the Credit Lyonnais in Boulevard St-Germain, giving the address of the Memphis Bank and telling them it was important they cable the ‘agreed sum’ at once. A copy of this satisfied Mr Roffy, although he still continued to display a certain grim nervousness. Mr Gilpin I encountered only once near Court Square, a small park in the centre of the city. The meeting was accidental and he looked at me strangely. It was as if he believed I had already betrayed his trust. I told him with mock-cheerfulness that everything was in order. He said ‘pleased to hear it’ and hurried on. He seemed to be taking the setback with less fortitude than his friend.