I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed. I had heard nothing, of course. I did all I could to stop myself shaking.
Mr Roffy stared at me through the cigar smoke. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I rather hoped you were the boy from Western Union. My agents tell me German inflation’s creating a panic throughout the Continent. That’s why things are moving so slowly.’
‘This scheme stands or falls on your contribution, colonel. Maybe you’ve funds in New York you could liquidate.’
‘Not enough.’ I could think of no further excuses. Soon, unless Kolya responded, I would be forced to admit I was virtually penniless. Irrationally, perhaps, I believed there would then be a chance my life would be put in danger. At last I added: ‘The reply will come today. In the meantime will my note of hand be of any help?’
‘Better than nothing.’ His voice sounded both suspicious and frightened.
Excusing myself I went into the bathroom for some cocaine. When I emerged the trembling was scarcely better, but I prepared a sheet of paper guaranteeing funds up to $150,000 to the Memphis Aviation Company. ‘The cash will follow,’ I promised.
‘It’s today or never, colonel.’ He folded the document carefully and put it in his breast pocket. Rising slowly to his feet, he turned towards the door, ‘It depends on you. Tomorrow we three will either be at the helm of a great enterprise or we’ll be tarred and feathered, run out of town on a rail. Mr Gilpin and myself have made personal assurances to banks, senators, congressmen, State officials and current creditors. If your money fails to materialise, we’ll all be ruined. It will be bad enough for Mr Gilpin and myself. We are men of honour. The ridicule and the disgrace, would probably kill Gilpin. But it will be that much worse for you, colonel. Prison? You would certainly be extradited. Where would that be to?’ His hand twitched as he lifted his cigar to his face. ‘France?’
This prospect alarmed me most. I would be arrested the moment I stepped off at Le Havre. I hurried him out. Allowing myself a further liberal dosage of cocaine I bathed, dressed, drank the lukewarm coffee I had prepared. I had to risk another telegram to Kolya. What alternatives were there? Then suddenly it occurred to me. Our wild Italian friend had once offered to put me in touch with his successful cousins in America. In French I composed a wire and went downstairs to Western Union. I sent the wire to Annibale Santucci, care of the Ristorante Mendoza, Via Catalana, Rome. I explained I needed to borrow a large sum for a few days. Did he know anyone in America who could help me? He should reply to Colonel Peterson. In my panic I sent further wires to Esmé, telling her I loved her and had not forgotten her, to Mrs Cornelius, asking her to contact me as quickly as possible. I had done all I could. As I took the stairs back to my rooms, Mrs Trubbshaw, whom I had arranged to see, entered the main door and called up to me. She was the very distraction I needed. The rest of the afternoon was spent with her buttons and bows, her inventive, guilty lewdness, and my last supplies of that universal healer the locals called ‘candy’. Mrs Trubbshaw remarked at one stage how neither Mr Roffy nor Mr Gilpin looked as well as usual. She was afraid they had been burning the candle at both ends. They would find themselves dead of heart attacks if they were not careful. ‘Those two old rogues just won’t grow up,’ she said. By early evening, when Mrs Trubbshaw rushed home to prepare her husband’s supper, I had received no replies to my telegrams. If I was to face my partners again I must have an especially good reason for not having the money. I toyed with the notion of a share crash, incompetent brokers who had invested in some fly-by-night scheme. But that would require confirming evidence. Once again I dressed myself carefully in my best evening clothes, then sat down to wait for the inevitable knock on the door. If they did not arrive within the hour, I had decided, I would visit the nearest bordello, if only to replenish my cocaine.
At seven-thirty I put on my top coat. As I reached for my hat and gloves, I heard a knock. Opening the door to Mr Gilpin I was shocked by his appearance. His normally healthy face was pallid. It seemed to have sagged, no longer a soldier’s but a prisoner’s; even his moustache had drooped. He said nothing as he shuffled in. I told him at once that I had as yet received no news.
‘We figured as much, colonel.’ He sighed deeply. ‘We’re buying what time we can. I’m a fair judge of character. I know you wouldn’t welsh on us.’
‘I’ve been sending wires all day. To France, Italy, England.’
He nodded vaguely. ‘You understand the consequences will be drastic?’
‘Our scheme’s rock solid. Surely in reality we only face a delay. We’ll weather the embarrassment.’
‘It’s not so simple, sir. Mr Roffy has made firm guarantees. Our $300,000 can’t cover them. Your share will make the difference between life and death. Roffy’s on the brink, sir. He’s contemplating suicide. I hope you’re not in any way suspicious of our credentials . . .’
‘I have no lack of trust in you, Mr Gilpin. It’s the problem in Europe. Almost every government blocks the flow of funds as a matter of course.’
‘But $150,000 can’t be a great deal of money to you, sir?’ He passed his hand through what a day or two before had been a white leonine mane. Today it was a dead cat.
‘The funds are solidly tied up, chiefly in securities. My agents are doing all they can. I hope to borrow from my bank against what they know exists. But no word so far.’
Lost in his own thoughts, Mr Gilpin let his bleary eyes wander about my room. When he next looked at me his expression was tragic. ‘It’s Roffy’s family, you see. He’s a man of honour. If he finds he cannot keep his word . . .’ He sighed deeply and returned this attention to my writing desk.
I believe he was growing suspicious of me, yet was still unwilling to air his opinion. My moral position was appalling. Through my fabrications it now seemed I might drive another human creature to take his own life. ‘It will not come to that, Mr Gilpin,’ I said.
‘I have secured a short extension.’ He looked at me as if I had already personally assassinated his old friend. He did not offer his hand as he left. I went out shortly afterwards and walked up Madison Street. The trolley cars bellowed and steamed in the cold air; light from various cafés and stores failed somehow to penetrate the darkness. Turning a corner I found myself outside a very respectable speakeasy where I had been carrying on a casual affair with a young Chattanooga girl who worked there. I knocked and entered. With what was almost the last of my cash I bought several large packets of ‘candy’. I was determined to do everything I could to avoid anxiety and yet save Roffy from ruin. I spent the night with my lady friend, returning to my apartment the next morning. To my delight a telegram was waiting for me. Santucci had replied. He had not bothered to condense his message. It was as voluble as if he were speaking to me in person. I had been lucky to find him in Rome. He was normally in Milan these days. All our friends were doing well and had become ‘very serious about polities’. Everyone sent their best wishes to myself and Esmé. He gave me two addresses, one in Chicago, the other in San Francisco. Both people were called Potecci or ‘Potter’. He was not sure which city was nearest Memphis. Where, in fact, was Memphis? Was I the prisoner of a lost Egyptian tribe?
This uneconomical reply, so full of friendly good will, so typical of Santucci’s exuberance and generosity, cheered me considerably, even though I had hoped for something a little more useful. Nothing had come from Kolya, Esmé or Mrs Cornelius. I found my folded map of the United States. With a piece of cotton I was trying to work out which of the two cities was, in fact, closest to Memphis, when the janitor arrived at my door. He gave me a note. To my great joy it was from Jimmy Rembrandt! He had just arrived in town and was lunching at Plunkett’s Cafe on Monroe Street If I was free would I please join him. He urgently wished to discuss a personal matter. My first thought was that he had news of Kolya. Then it occurred to me he merely wished to return the $500 he had borrowed. Jimmy might even help me find the money to save myself and my partners. Accordingly, my hopes coloured by desperation, I changed and hurried to the restaurant. It was an old-fashioned establishment, of oak booths, marble-topped tables and rococo brasswork. Jimmy had already started eating as I called to him down the aisle and he looked up irritably. His expression did not change when he recognised me but froze into lines of grim anger. Almost reluctantly, he stood up behind the table, wiping his lips on his napkin, avoiding my eye, as if I had caught him eating human flesh. I could make nothing of this. As he sat down I saw he had plainly been travelling all night, for his suit was crumpled. With almost mechanical deliberation he rearranged the lines on his face and smiled. He asked the waiter to delay the main course until I could order. I said he seemed very tired. He made an effort to be his usual courteous self. This gesture served to make me rather more nervous.