It was not until she was halfway through the doorway that Elleck realized that the fingers that had been inside his Y-Fronts were still busily there.
For a moment he froze; then he tried to remember quite how much of the champagne and the dry white and the clarets and the Sauternes he had drunk, and whether it should have made him this drunk; and then he shot a glance at the Greek on his right. Without turning his head towards him, Culundis grinned and gave him a broad wink.
The butler arrived with coffee and a bottle of dust-coated Hine. While the Viscomte’s attention was momentarily distracted by him, Elleck plunged his hand below the table and tried to pull Culundis’s hand away. It was like trying to grip an iron rod. Culundis turned to him, leaned over, and spoke softly. ‘Relax — doesn’t it feel good?’
‘Get it out,’ hissed Elleck.
‘You’re gorgeous — let’s get together later, eh?’
Elleck, on one of the few occasions in his life, was stumped for words. Lasserre waited while the butler set the coffee cups, poured the coffee, set the huge brandy punts that had been a wedding gift to one of Lasserre’s ancestors from Louis XIV, poured the Hine and discreetly departed. Culundis continued his groping, despite the fact that since Elleck had discovered the true identity of the groper, there was considerably less inside the Y-Fronts for the fingers to grope at.
‘Monty,’ said Lasserre, ‘for many years you have handled the commodity investments of my personal portfolio, and the portfolio of the Lasserre group of companies. On many occasions when we have met, we have joked about what we call “the big one,” no?’ Elleck nodded.
‘Now, I am not complaining at the way you have handled my money — not at all. You have consistently beaten the market average indicators by good margins, but still “the big one” has not come.’
The butler returned with a box of Bolivars. Culundis took one, so did Elleck, and then the Viscomte selected one; while his attention was again distracted, Elleck shot Culundis a vicious look. Culundis responded by blowing him a kiss. The butler departed. The men lit their cigars in turn with a wooden taper, which was passed around.
Lasserre continued: ‘I have decided not to wait any longer for “the big one.” I have decided to make “the big one” happen.’
Elleck shot Culundis an exasperated look; the expression on the Greek arms dealer’s face was that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
Elleck looked at Lasserre with as quizzical an expression as he could muster under the circumstances.
‘Just over two weeks ago,’ said Lasserre, ‘you were convinced that “the big one” had arrived: the raid on Osirak. But the advance time you gave me was short, so very short, and you made a limit on the amount of gold you would buy for me. I had no time to go to anyone else, either. Result? We made a small profit — a nice profit indeed — about one hundred thousand dollars. Not bad for one afternoon — but hardly what I would call the “big one” that I have waited ten years for. I alone can raise from my bank, on the security of my shares in Lasserre Group, in this chateau and estate, probably £50 million; putting that into gold futures at a ten per cent margin, I could buy two and a half million ounces of gold. If some act were to happen that could push the price of gold up say fifty, or maybe one hundred — or panic it even higher — then I could make a profit worth talking about. Even a rise of $50 an ounce, that would make me £125 million profit. That’s what I would call the “big one.” Wouldn’t you, Monty?’
Elleck nodded. He was finding it damned hard to concentrate.
‘Even my disgustingly rich friend, Jimmy Culundis, would have to admit to being impressed with a profit of that size, wouldn’t you, Jimmy?’
‘I’d call it big, Claude.’ He grinned. He plucked his hand from Elleck’s trousers and began to attack furiously an itch behind his left ear.
Elleck immediately dropped his hands under the table, and did up his flies as fast as he could before Culundis could have a chance to launch his second wave. ‘And how do you propose to make this “big one” happen, Claude?’
‘There are two things above all others that can make the price of gold rise,’ Lasserre said: ‘A shortage, or the threat of war. Correct, Monty?’
Elleck nodded. ‘Basically, yes. When there is the threat of war — or actual war — paper money can become completely worthless. That has happened many times, most recently in Vietnam. When the Chinese took over there, they nationalized the banks and stated that the banks would not redeem any bank-notes. The stuff became meaningless paper literally overnight. When there is political uncertainty, people become nervous of paper; if you are fleeing and you are in the middle of the wilderness desperate for food and shelter, in a country that is being overrun by an enemy, there aren’t many people who are going to be interested in your 100 franc notes. Offer them a piece of gold, and it becomes a different matter — they know that somewhere in the world — someone is always going to give them value for it — and gold is the most popular of any metal. Because of its high value, you can carry in your pocket more than enough to live comfortably on for a very long time indeed.’
Lasserre nodded; Culundis blew large smoke rings, stuck his nose inside his brandy punt, and took several large sniffs.
‘It would take a great deal of gold being bought to create a shortage, would it not?’
‘An average of 1,500 tons of gold is mined each year, of which an average of 1,200 tons is used for jewellery, electronics, dentistry, decorative purposes, official coins and medals, medallions and commemorative fake coins. The balance — 300 tons — ends up in banks, in the International Monetary Fund and in the hands of private speculators. Those 300 tons have a market value of approximately $4,800 million.’
‘I have just calculated,’ interrupted Lasserre, ‘that on margin, I could buy $1,000 million worth of gold — that is one quarter of the world’s annual supply. My friend, Jimmy, also has approximately £50 million he could lay his hands on — which is $100 million — as ten per cent margin that could also buy $1,000 million of gold — are you saying that between us we could buy nearly half the new speculative gold coming into the market this year?’
Elleck shook his head. ‘No. You are not the only people who trade on margin in gold — many people do — so you have to multiply the value of the gold by ten — to $48,000 million. To this you must add all the rest of the year’s production — because that is also traded on the open market before it is sold — worth $192,000 million — multiplied by ten, because of margin trading — to make ten billion, nine hundred and twenty thousand million dollars; to this you must add the surplus gold since time began — probably 30,000 tons — worth on margin forty billion, eight hundred thousand million dollars, much of which is traded every year; your lousy little $2,000 million wouldn’t even fill the petty cash tin in those terms. No offence, you understand?’
Lasserre and Culundis both nodded. They understood; being rich was all a matter of relativity. They might be big fishes in a small pond, but out in the ocean, the whales wouldn’t even contemplate putting them in the peanut bowl. ‘Monty,’ said Culundis, ‘if the amount is so insignificant, why, when you knew about Osirak in advance, did you limit the amount the Viscomte could invest to only $1 million?’
Elleck squirmed slightly in his seat. ‘There were two reasons, actually — both of them connected. You see, I had to be very careful of this inside knowledge. I didn’t want to let on to anyone that I had the knowledge that I possessed, so I did the buying myself, very quietly, through a few chums; so I had to limit it to a small amount in order to avoid looking suspicious. Of course, time played a big part — I only had the tip-off a week before; if I had known earlier, I could have bought a great deal more, spreading it further — but I have to be very careful. I don’t normally do any dealing directly myself — but I didn’t want my brokers getting involved and maybe getting suspicious. I, er, at the end — when I knew things were quietening down — I did give some pretty clear sell instructions — but I think I managed to convey the impression that that was just the judgement of an old and wise man, rather than the result of my knowledge.’