‘Thank you,’ said Mr Brouzet. ‘Now, Monsieur Nivelle, perhaps you could enlighten us about what is happening on the ground here in Paris?’
‘It was one of Monsieur le Ministre’s young men,’ said Nivelle in the coarse accent of the suburbs. ‘He was almost blind by the way, but he alerted us that many of the great finance houses here in Paris were selling French bonds — not in enormous quantities, but making substantial withdrawals nonetheless. We found the same thing happening on the ground in the poorer parts of Paris, people selling off their bonds. One week ago, it all stopped, as if some wizard had blown a whistle.’
‘Forgive me for a moment, gentlemen,’ said Colonel Brouzet, disappearing into a side room. He came back with an ornate ivory chess set, made in China centuries before. ‘It’s from the Louvre,’ he said apologetically. ‘They lent it to me along with the Fragonard. Perhaps these ancient warriors will help us.’
He placed the ivory chessmen carefully on a low table. ‘Let us see,’ Brouzet said, taking out one white castle and one black knight and placing them on the left centre side of the board. Here we have England and France, united by your King Edward’s entente cordiale. Here, we have the German knight, right in the middle of the board. On the far side of the battlefield we have the black castle, the Tsar and his armies. Who benefits from the sale of these bonds? Sir Miles, perhaps you could bring some of your wisdom to the table here?’
The Ambassador hesitated before he spoke. Outside a party of raucous Americans were demanding of an unfortunate waiter why they could not have their breakfast at seven fifteen in the morning. That was what they did in Des Moines, Iowa where they came from, they proudly told the garçon.
‘It all depends, doesn’t it,’ Myddleton said finally, ‘as to why these people are selling their bonds; on whether they are selling them for their own use, or to some foreign agents who are lurking in the poorer parts of the city — forgive me, Monsieur Nivelle — and scooping up these bonds. Do we know what proportion of the total have been sold, by the way?’
‘Just over six per cent of the total,’ said M. le Ministre. ‘That’s a substantial percentage, by the way.’
‘There is no evidence of a Monsieur Scoop operating anywhere in Paris,’ said M. Nivelle firmly.
‘It’s worth remembering,’ said the Ambassador, ‘that there are only two finance houses in Europe that could mount such an operation as this. You would need offices right across the Continent and very large numbers of employees. You see, I don’t think any of the governments would have the personnel to carry out such a conspiracy. They would turn to their bankers. After all, it was Rothschilds who financed Wellington’s later years during the Peninsular War, and on to Waterloo itself. They are one of the houses. They control the bond market across the whole of Europe. The other family are the Ephrussis. They control the supply of grain across Europe from their base at Odessa in the Crimea, the breadbasket of central Europe, and like their rivals they have offices in London and Paris and in other capitals.’
‘Merde!’ said M. le Ministre. ‘Merde alors! What a thought! A cup final between the Rothschilds and the Ephrussis, fought out in the backstreets of the cities and in the Bourses and the Stock Exchanges of Europe, with a grand final between the Rothschilds and the Ephrussis played out on the finest tennis courts in Paris. What a prospect!’
Colonel Brouzet raised his hand. ‘We play a little game, I think. We look at the hopes and fears of both sides. Then we think of who might want to buy these bonds. Sir Miles, I ask you to bat for England, as you say about the cricket in your country. What are her hopes? Fears come later.’
‘The English politicians are preoccupied with matters at home, with strikes, with the problems of the House of Lords and the Irish question that never seems to go away. Her hopes are for a period of domestic peace and no change abroad. She worries that the great days of Empire may be over, that she could become one with Nineveh and Tyre.’
‘And France, Monsieur le Ministre?’
‘France hopes for la revanche, for revenge against Germany. Some of our monuments in the capital have been draped in black since we lost at Sedan in 1870. Nobody, man or woman, horse or dog has ridden through the great arch of the Arc de Triomphe since that date. La Gloire, l’Audace on the battlefield, the restoration of France to her rightful place as the cultural capital of Europe and the world: those are the hopes of France, Monsieur Brouzet.’
‘Germany, Mr Dubois?’
‘I didn’t come here to speak for the Germans, Monsieur Brouzet, but I can speak to the question. We are in touch with our comrades in Berlin and dustmen everywhere. Germany means the Kaiser, a bundle of neuroses and vanities. He wants to be master of the universe. He wants peace with all the world. He is obsessed with the country of his mother and his grandmother Queen Victoria. He is the most unstable ruler in Europe.’
‘I would dispute that, Mr Nivelle. I speak for Russia.’ M. Brouzet was inspecting his ivory chessmen very carefully. ‘I offer Tsar Nicholas the Second in place of the Kaiser. The Tsar is, even now, preparing to celebrate the tercentenary of the Romanovs next year. It will be a year of processions and parades and loyalty reaffirmed. Three hundred years of supreme power. He is probably waiting for some simple peasant being lined up to greet his Father, The Father of all the Russias, Nicholas the Second. Throw in Rasputin and the German bitch and the Tsar wins by several lengths. Above all, he wants no truck with Dumas and democracy. He wants to be an autocrat once again, to reclaim the past to secure his future.’
Colonel Brouzet paused for a moment and moved the white knight forward into an attack position. The black horseman went into the defence.
‘Time is short, messieurs, eternity is long, Sir Miles. We have to grasp the nettle. Each of you has one sentence to explain why your country would want to buy up these bonds. England, Sir Miles?’
‘England would buy the bonds to preserve the status quo and to prevent the Germans getting them.’
‘Thank you. France?’
‘France too would buy them for fear of the Germans having them.’
‘Russia, that’s me, is so preoccupied with the celebrations next year that it takes no notice of what might be happening in Paris.’
‘Germany would buy them to throw a spoke in the wheels of the Triple Alliance and because some Germans want war now before the Russians become too powerful with their new industrial might.’
‘Thank you all,’ said Colonel Brouzet, moving a couple of Chinese pawns on his board. ‘We may not have the answer, but at least we are better informed.’
Later that day, M. Brouzet sent the news of the vanishing bonds to his friend, the English investigator Lord Francis Powerscourt. There was only the most tenuous connection with the Ballets Russes — had one of their number brought word that the selling was to begin, perhaps? — but you could never tell.
18
Performing steps while on the tips of the toes, with feet fully extended and wearing pointe shoes, a structurally reinforced type of shoe designed specifically for this purpose. Most often performed by women.
They had most of the story now, Powerscourt and Lady Lucy. They knew that the jewels had been stolen in St Petersburg but they didn’t know who had taken them or from whom they had been taken. They knew that Anastasia had been charged with the selling of them, but not by whom. They knew now about George Smythe, currently sitting happily in a Powerscourt chair and drinking some Powerscourt coffee. Anastasia’s reluctance to name names did not extend to George’s, possibly because he was English. At any rate, she had thrown him, metaphorically, to the wolves at the first available opportunity. Anastasia had been so upset after telling most of the rest of what she knew that she had been sent back to her hotel in a taxi-cab.