“I’ll do my own promoting, thanks.”
“My position, dear Jack-” Then he stopped. They both heard the front door open.
Old Hofer was scurrying across the hall and two other servants were scrambling into position.
“Send for the Baron,” said a voice. Kator was there.
Helmut lost some of his baronial air, but he rose with a studied grace and walked toward the hall without another word.
“And send for my sister,” said the voice from the hall.
Kator had crossed the hall with that hard click of his shoes. He turned to no one and slowed down just long enough to give old Hofer a chance to swing the library doors wide. Kator went through and the doors clicked shut. When Hofer came back to the hall, von Lohe stood by, watching the servants gather up the luggage. He was fitting a Turkish cigarette into a silver holder.
“Herr Kator wishes to see the Herr Baron.”
Von Lohe placed the holder in his mouth and fished for his lighter.
“That is, immediately, Herr Baron.” Hofer bowed and disappeared into a side hall. The Baron went into the library without having lit his cigarette.
The library was a room like a hall. The floor was covered with two giant rugs and one wall held a fireplace roofed like a house. There were more Atlases. They held the fireplace open. The ceiling and walls were of walnut except where the bookshelves had been replaced by locked cabinets. The cabinets were steel. They looked odd and cold in the ornate room, and the bleak light from the French windows gave them the air of a row of cells. There was a disciplined garden on the other side of the windows, a painstaking affair of different greens and thin little walks. Kator’s desk faced the other way. His chair was empty. Von Lohe walked to the high-backed seat that faced the empty fireplace and said, “Good morning, Johannes.”
Kator’s arm waved him to step closer. “Where is Renette?”
“I don’t know, Johannes. Hofer says-”
“I know what Hofer says. Sit down. When she comes back, send her to me immediately.”
“But I don’t know when she-”
“She’s your wife, isn’t she?” Kator sounded impatient.
“She’s your sister, isn’t she?” said von Lohe, and the spite in his voice was pure.
Kator got out of his chair and walked to the window. His back was turned when he said, “Aren’t you happily married, my dear Helmut?” It sounded so casual that the Baron started to fidget. “Are you not being maintained in a style that you could otherwise no longer afford?”
Von Lohe’s voice was spiteful. “And my title, I suppose, my exclusive contacts have been of no value to you? I remind you, Johannes, that without my social position to cloak your activities-“
“Speaking of bargains,” Kator said, going to his desk, “have you finally managed that matter with Zimmer?”
“It so happens, Johannes, I’m seeing young Zimmer this afternoon, at the club. I think-“
“Don’t think, don’t make excuses, just produce! This matter has been dragging for months!”
“But Johannes, there is just so much I can do. The Zimmer family has been extremely cautious ever since the war. My good name alone cannot-“
“Remind young Zimmer,” Kator said, “that I still possess the copies of patent trades that his father’s company has engineered, and that the Americans have no knowledge of any of this. So far. Tell him so far! If I cannot place my men in Zimmer’s American subsidiaries, I will begin to make things known.”
“But they have been friends of my family for-”
“I am not concerned with your family, only with the effect of your name. Now then, I called you for other reasons. Without going into details, let me impress upon you that my trip to the States has produced complications-possibly minor, possibly dangerous. Look into the garden.” Helmut went to the window and looked. “Do you see anything?”
There was nothing except the garden.
“I have stationed six men there. Several more are in front. They are here to intercept any possible danger.”
“Danger?” Helmut licked his red lips and sat down.
“Yes. And until further notice you will not leave the house except in the company of one of my men.”
“Johannes, please. What are we afraid of? You are making it worse with this secrecy.”
Kator pulled out one of his olive-colored cigars and stroked it. “I had dealings with a man, a foreigner. The fact is, I do not know where he is at the moment. Until he is found, I must remain extremely alert. He and I have a debt of-“
“A debt!”
“What is it, Helmut?”
Helmut had started to blink with a nervous speed and he sat upright, as if suspended by the head. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.
“Helmut! Make sense.”
“Is it-is it five hundred dollars? Do you owe-”
“What?”
“Just this,” said Jesso, and he kicked the door shut with his foot. Hofer was with him, but couldn’t keep up with him. Jesso shot his hands into his pockets and stopped.
“Forget the phone, Baron,” he said, and watched Kator pull back his hand.
Kator sat still like a cat. That’s when von Lohe recovered. He jumped up and started to yell.
“But I swear, Mr. Jesso, I never came near that phone. Johannes, tell Mr. Jesso-“
“Shut up,” said Kator. “He didn’t mean you.”
Everything was still for a moment.
“I meant Superspy, here. You, Kator, you understand, don’t you, Kator?”
“Of course, Jesso.”
“I bet you do. So send everybody out.”
Kator did. He nodded at the butler and at the Baron.
He nodded at both in the same way and then they left. The two men looked at each other. Then they walked to the fireplace and sat down on facing sofas.
“You crapped out yesterday, Kator.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You crapped out. Your two medics weren’t so good.”
“I know. We found them.”
“Were they alive?”
“Partly, Jesso.”
“You know why, Kator?”
Kator waited.
“Because I didn’t half try.”
“I had assumed it was sentimentality.”
“Now hear this, Kator. You’re going to crap out once more, and that time I’m going to be trying all the way.”
“You are threatening me?”
“I’m telling you. And I’m telling you more. That message from Snell I gave you is bunk. I’ve got the right one, you don’t. How much are you selling your merchandise for?”
Kator started to smirk, dropped it.
“Hundred grand? Two hundred?”
“That information would hardly be useful to you.”
“Don’t worry about that part, Kator. Just worry about how you’re ever going to know if I gave you the right info. Just worry about losing your price, worry about selling worthless stuff, worry about what’ll happen to your business, to you, if you should pull a boner somebody else has to pay for. Those guys you’re selling to, are they gonna say, ‘Forget it, Kator, dear chum, we all make mistakes'?”
Kator didn’t bother to answer.
“They’re gonna send out a torpedo for you. A German if you’re in Germany, a Turk if you’re in Turkey, and Satan himself if you should be in hell when they find out.”
“I assume you have a proposition,” said Kator, and the formal words came out stiffly.
“No, Kator. You’re almost crapping out again. I’m giving you a chance to come in out of the rain. You show me your buyers, I show them the right dope. It’ll cost you half. Half of whatever you get. That’s the only way the deal is ever going to go straight. You know why, Kator? If I sell them the wrong goods, I’ll be as bad off as you, and that’s never going to happen to me, Kator.”
Kator’s success had come from the man himself; his fast mind, his unmuddled decisiveness, and his ability to dismiss his personal feelings. This made him remarkable, and he showed it now.
“Very well. I will begin my arrangements today. You may stay in this house in the meantime. Hofer will provide for your comfort.”