Stone's Fall

'No,' he said, 'I was hoping that in the course of your researches you might. I would find the answer fascinating. It might be love, I suppose,' he said with a sigh as though he found the idea disappointing.

'I cannot give an explanation for something I did not know about. As for her spell, she is indeed charming and warm, though that is tempered by her distress, which makes her fragile.'

He smiled. 'She is formidably intelligent, and if you think her fragile then you have very poor judgement. She married one of the wealthiest men in the world, and was his equal in all respects. Her fragility and charm are her strengths. Everything about her is a strength, or can be made so.'

I stared curiously at him.

'But what are you, Mr Braddock? Are you one of her weapons as well?'

'I believe I am an employee, there to write a life of her husband.'

'No more than that?'

'No.'

I got the sense he did not believe me, but he decided not to pursue it.

'You do not seem to like her very much,' I observed.

'Like her?' he said, his eyes widening in surprise. 'I adore her. All men adore her. Just as much as most women hate her. Have you seen her in the company of another woman? I have known her for – what? Years, it must be. And I know her no better, understand her no better, than the first day I met her. She is charming, radiant, lovely. But have you ever seen her using her magic, when she is hypnotising, enthralling? Then, believe me, she is frightening. It is a rare man who can resist her.'

'Including her husband?'

'John?' He paused, and looked at me. 'You haven't got very far if you can ask such a question. Of course he could resist her. That was his appeal. He loved her devotedly because he wanted to. And she loved him because she could not control him. As I say, they were equals. They fought like cat and dog, you know. His anger was cold, hers volcanic. "My dear," he would say through gritted teeth, "your behaviour is quite unacceptable." And she would throw a plate at him. It went on for hours. I think they actually enjoyed it. It was a central part of their marriage. Neither had power over the other, and both were used to controlling others. Can you imagine the attraction of the only person you have ever met who will not do as you wish?'

'No,' I said shortly. 'And at the moment it is not at the top of my list of questions.'

Xanthos sighed. 'A pity. The book will be the poorer for it. It contains the essence of John Stone's nature.'

'I think she wants something more factual.'

'That may be so,' he said. 'So – go ahead. Ask me your questions.'

I hadn't come very well prepared, which was foolish. Normally, when I interviewed people, I made out in advance a little list of questions to give some form to the interview. This time I had nothing; so I asked randomly, snatching questions from my mind as they floated chaotically into view.

'I am struck,' I began, although it had not struck me until then, 'by the people I've met so far. Bartoli, an Italian. You, who I am told are Greek. Lady Ravenscliff, who is Hungarian.'

'And more than that,' he replied. 'The head of finance, for example, is a man called Caspar Neuberger.'

'German?'

'Oh, he'd be quite annoyed to be called just German,' he said with a faint smile. "I am Chewish, dear man! Chewish!" Try calling him a Prussian – he was born in Prussia – and see what sort of reaction you get. John used to refer to Caspar's military character just to see how long he would be able to control himself.'

'I stand corrected. But you know what I mean.'

'The corporation of mongrels and half-breeds. Yes, I do see. We are not a blue-blooded company. It is our great quality, and the reason why we have left all our competitors in the dust. John Stone had two great, remarkable, qualities, which you would do well to bear in mind. One was his gift for organisation. The other was his judgement of character. He wanted people who would do a good job with the minimum of supervision. He didn't care who they were, or where they came from. As he had no family to speak of, the board isn't stuffed with useless relations. As far as operations are concerned, Bartoli is a genius at seeing the evolution of the whole. Williams, the managing director, is a brilliant administrator but the son, I believe, of a bankrupt coal merchant. Caspar is extraordinary at finance, and I – sooner or later someone will tell you, so it might as well be me – am of mysterious but entirely unseemly origins. But it all works. John used to complain sometimes, saying it had all been organised too well, and there was nothing left for him to do. That the company no longer needed him.'

'And what exactly do you do?'

'Me? Oh, I'm just the salesman. The negotiator. Nothing more than that. People want to buy, I get the best price. I am easily the most disposable of them all. But, what I do, I do well. My reputation is, alas, different. Do you want to know what it is?'

'By all means.'