Numbered Account

"Goldluxe," Mevlevi cried in jest. "A name from another century. Another epoch. Let him learn all he wants about Goldluxe. I don't think the authorities will show much interest in a laundering operation shut down eighteen years ago. Do you?"

"Of course, you're right, Ali. But, personally, I wouldn't be comfortable knowing that such a bright young man with so much to make up for was looking closely at my past. Who knows what else he's found?"

Mevlevi pointed an inquisitive finger at Kaiser. "Why are you telling me this now?"

"I found out myself only last night."

"Do you expect me to be afraid of these revelations? Should I cower in front of you with my purse held wide open? I have Neumann in the palm of my hand. Like I have you. Neumann's prints are all over the gun that killed Albert Makdisi. If he mentions one word about me to the police, he'll be arrested and placed in protective custody while I line up some reliable witnesses who can put him at the scene of the crime. Neumann is mine. Just like you. Do you really believe he has the courage to cross me? He's seen the consequences of betrayal close up. You tell me Nicholas Neumann is looking into my past. I say fine. Let him look." Suddenly Mevlevi laughed. "Or maybe you're just trying to scare me, Wolfgang."

A tuxedo-clad maitre d' appeared with a white-jacketed waiter at his side. The captain supervised the serving of a grilled Chilean sea bass in a black bean sauce. All conversation ceased until the plates were set down and both waiters out of earshot.

"My duty has always been to look after your best interests," continued Kaiser. "To be honest, I thought bringing you this information would be worth at least forty million francs. That amount should buy us one full percentage point."

" 'One full point?' " Mevlevi repeated. "You're giving me Neumann for one full point? Tell me what else he might know. If you'd like me to evaluate your proposition, I need to hear it all."

"Ask him yourself. It's not what Nicholas knows, but what his father knew. And wrote down. Some mention of the FBI, I believe. The boy has his father's diary."

"Why are you so smug?"

Kaiser lied smoothly. "I've seen the pages. I'm in the clear."

"If Neumann uncovers Goldluxe, you will be hurt worse than I."

"If I am going to lose the bank to Klaus Konig, I don't give a damn. Twenty years ago you robbed me of any other life I might have had. If the bank is going down, let me go down with it."

"You never wanted any other kind of life. If you prefer to use my actions to soothe your guilty conscience, go ahead. In your heart you know you are no different from me." Mevlevi pushed his plate toward the center of the table. "I am sorry, Wolfgang. Banking is your business. If you can't protect yourself from those more competitive, perhaps even more competent than yourself, I can't be to blame."

Kaiser could feel his face flushing as his desperation increased. "Dammit, Ali. I know you have the money. You've got to give me it. You owe me."

Mevlevi slammed his hand on the table. "I owe you nothing!"

Kaiser's eyes bulged and his neck grew crimson. He felt as if the floor had been ripped out from under him. How could this be happening?

Mevlevi sat back in his chair, once again the picture of cool restraint. "Still, in appreciation of your telling me the news about young Neumann, I will try and make arrangements. I'll phone Gino Makdisi tomorrow. He may be able to come to your assistance."

"Gino Makdisi? The man is a hoodlum."

"His money is as green as yours. Pecunia non oelat. Practically your country's anthem, isn't it? Money hath no odor. He'll be pleased to accept your generous terms."

"Those terms are for you only. We could never do business with a member of the Makdisi family."

Mevlevi gave an exasperated sigh, then dabbed at his mouth. "All right, then, I'll reconsider the loan. But frankly, I don't see where I'm going to get the cash. I'll make some calls. I can have an answer for you tomorrow at two P.M."

"I have an important meeting with one of our oldest shareholders. I won't be back in the office before three." Kaiser knew not to expect a reprieve, but couldn't help himself from jumping at the offer. Hope was difficult to kill.

Mevlevi smiled graciously. "I promise to have an answer for you by that time."

***

Ali Mevlevi packed a half-sotted Wolfgang Kaiser into his automobile, then returned to the restaurant's lounge and ordered a Williams aperitif. For a few seconds he actually pitied the poor fool. One percent, Kaiser had practically slobbered, hoping to sell young Neumann like he was chattel slavery. Neumann was worth the price of a single bullet, no more, and that's how much he'd spend on him.

Give me my one percent.