Numbered Account

Mevlevi asked, "Would this loan be used to buy shares?"

"Naturally," said Kaiser. "It will raise our holdings to sixty percent. Konig's bid will be effectively blocked."

Mevlevi crinkled his brow, as if he had been misinformed. "But should the Adler Bank's offer unravel, the price of your shares would plummet. I may stand to earn the ten percent you are offering on the two hundred million, but the value of my shares will decrease. We both stand to lose a good deal of money."

"Only temporarily. We've taken steps to drastically improve our operating ratios and lift the year-end net profit. As soon as they're in place, the price of our shares will far surpass their current level."

"You hope," cautioned Mevlevi.

"Markets are unpredictable," said Kaiser, "but seldom illogical."

"Perhaps I should sell my shares while I'm ahead." The Pasha motioned toward his private file. "May I?"

Kaiser extended it halfway to his client, then drew it back. "If arrangements for the loan could be made this afternoon, I would be most grateful."

Nick held his breath. His eyes were riveted to the dossier, while an inner chorus demanded to know who had discovered the transfer confirmations beneath his desk.

"This afternoon?" said the Pasha. "Not possible. I have pressing business. Mr. Neumann will be required. I'm afraid I can't give you a response until Monday morning. Now, I'd like to take a moment and leaf through my papers. See what mail I've received."

Kaiser handed Mevlevi the dossier.

Nick rubbed his forehead. His eyes examined the carpet under his feet. All his senses were directed inward. He listened to his heart beating steadily. Surprisingly, his pulse was hardly elevated. His fate was sealed.

Mevlevi opened the dossier and picked up an envelope, one of Nick's phonies. He flipped it over and placed his thumb under the flap, digging a smooth nail along the seal.

Nick watched him intently. He could hear the envelope being opened. He could feel the paper tearing. Then he shut his eyes. He was not aware of Rita Sutter's presence until she was halfway into the Chairman's office.

Kaiser rose sharply to his feet. "What is it?" he asked.

Rita Sutter appeared shaken. Her skin was gray and her face cast with grim resolve. As she neared, she extended her hand as if seeking a wall to steady herself.

"What is it, woman? What in God's name is the matter with you?"

Rita Sutter took a step back, visibly hurt by his brusque indifference. "Cerruti," she whispered. "Marco Cerruti. He's killed himself. The police are outside."

Like two deer caught in an automobile's headlights, Kaiser and Mevlevi stared at each other for one interminable second, and the acknowledgment of conspirators passed between them.

Suddenly, the room was in motion. Mevlevi threw the half-opened letter into the dossier and closed the cover. "This will keep for another time."

Kaiser gestured toward the private elevator. "We can speak this evening."

Mevlevi walked with measured strides to the concealed elevator. "Perhaps. I may be busy with other matters. Neumann, come with me."

Nick hesitated. Something told him not to leave the bank. Cerruti was dead. Becker was dead. Hanging around the Pasha did not improve your life expectancy.

Rita Sutter hugged her chest as if to console herself. "I can't understand it. You told us Marco was getting so much better."

Kaiser paid the disconsolate woman no heed. "Nicholas," he ordered. "Go with Mr. Mevlevi and do as he says. Now!"

Nick stopped considering whether or not to go. The defender of the faith had no choice. He walked to the elevator and slid in alongside Mevlevi. The door closed and he caught a last glimpse of Wolfgang Kaiser. The Chairman had draped an arm around Rita Sutter and was speaking softly to her. Nick could only make out a few of his words.

"My dear friend, Marco," he was saying. "Why would he do such a thing? I wouldn't have thought him capable of it. Did he leave a note? A terrible tragedy."

And then the elevator door slammed shut.

CHAPTER 47

For the next quarter of an hour, Nick's life passed in a blur. He was presented with a succession of hazy images, as if watching a separate self through the fogged window of a fast-moving train. Nick descends in the cramped elevator with the Pasha; Nick climbs into the waiting limousine; Nick offers appropriate noises while Mevlevi issues the first in a string of hollow laments over Marco Cerruti's death. And when the Pasha instructs the chauffeur to take them to the Platzspitz, instead of voicing his concern, Nick remains silent. He is too busy replaying in his mind's eye the interplay between Wolfgang Kaiser and Ali Mevlevi at the moment Rita Sutter informed them of the unfortunate banker's death. He is convinced of their complicity.