“Then do it now,” Emy suggested with a smile. Kek pressed his lips to her cheek.
“That’s enough,” Lisa warned, and put her arm around Emy in a show of affection. The four moved to the door. “We have your address in Eindhoven, and once we get settled, we’ll be in touch.” The men shook hands and the women kissed; and then the Van der Mols were on their way. Lisa closed the door behind them and leaned back against it with a huge sigh.
“Thank the Lord!” she said fervently.
“What?” Kek frowned at her tone.
“Thank the Lord they’re finally gone!”
Kek was truly shocked. “I’m amazed at you! I liked them very much, and I thought you did, too!”
“Oh, I did,” Lisa assured him, moving from the door. “But that pipe!”
“Pipe?” Kek was mystified. “Peter’s briar?”
“No, darling. Your meerschaum. Now that the Van der Mols are gone you can stop smoking it, can’t you?”
“My dear Lisa, you become more unintelligible by the minute!”
“Do I, darling? And that tobacco tin that you traded with Peter on board ship just before we docked, and then traded back with him just a few minutes ago? Without—I’m happy to say—the slightest suspicion on his part? Would curiosity as to why you would want to do such a thing still be counted as unintelligible?”
Kek walked over and poured himself a stiff brandy. For a moment he considered offering one to Lisa and then decided against it. He drank it quickly and turned around to study his wife. She was watching him with a faint smile on her lips.
“My dear Lisa,” he said slowly, “at times you absolutely frighten me, do you know?”
“Oh, I hope not, darling,” she said sincerely. “It’s simply that I’ve always hated being kept out of secrets, even as a little girl.” Her look of curiosity returned. “Tell me, darling, what did your Swiss friend in The Hague ask you to bring in through customs that would fit in the bottom of a tobacco tin? Diamonds?”
“Yes, sweet.” Kek took the tin from his pocket, dumped the tobacco into the wastebasket, and shook out a small washed-chamois pouch. Lisa shook her head a bit disapprovingly.
“Don’t you think it was a bit dangerous, taking a chance of these being found and laid at your door, when it could jeopardize a scheme as big as the Big One?” Her tone of voice capitalized the words. “Just to do a favor for a friend?”
“Not quite a favor,” Kek said, and smiled. It was pleasant to discover one tiny facet of the operation which Lisa had not penetrated. “These will give me entrée to the people I need to borrow the initial funds from. Don’t you remember?”
Lisa smiled, proud of her husband once again.
“I should have known you wouldn’t take any chances with our million dollars, darling,” she said, and reached under one of the end tables for a telephone book.
Kek frowned at her. “And who do you plan on telephoning? You don’t know a soul in New York.”
“Why, rental agencies, darling,” Lisa said, surprised. “For a furnished apartment, of course. We want to get started as quickly as possible, don’t we? And besides,” she added, “do you know that behind the bedroom door in a little frame they have a sort of placard with the prices for this suite, and, darling, they are completely outrageous!”
7
Within two weeks Lisa was able to forgo the high rentals of the Pennsylvania Hotel, and the two were comfortably settled in a quite decent furnished apartment on East Sixtieth Street, just off Lexington Avenue. There were enough French restaurants with genuine French waiters in the area to nicely suit Lisa’s need to hear and speak her native language with someone other than her husband, for they had decided while Lisa was mastering her new tongue to limit their home conversation to English, or at least as much as they could. And, once settled, Kek Huuygens’ first acquisition for their new home was a comfortable-sized safe that the narrow door to their apartment could easily accommodate.
Although the idea of the safe had been Lisa’s, when the time came to actually buy it, she became quite worried that the neighbors might wonder at even a medium-sized safe being delivered to so small an apartment. Her fears proved groundless. As she was quickly to learn—and relearn almost daily—New Yorkers never allow themselves to indulge in the luxury of curiosity regarding the affairs of others, since others might, in retaliation, become curious in regard to theirs. The two neighbors who shared the elevator with the safe and the coveralled men who were delivering it looked the other way rather pointedly, their faces expressionless. Kek, who was accompanying his purchase, smiled at their obvious pretense that the large steel box simply didn’t exist at all, or at least, not for them. Should it be broken into sometime in the future, their faces clearly stated, don’t come to us, because we know nothing about any safes.
Nor did the mechanics who wheeled it into place seem surprised at their assignment. They tilted it back into a large closet in the spare bedroom that had been converted to a combination den-cum-office, lowered it to the floor with a thud that must have jarred the downstairs neighbors, took the tip Kek gave them, and went their way. Kek checked the combination several times to make sure his memory of it would not fail him at any crucial moment, and then sat down at the desk and reached for the telephone.
The number he called was also one from memory, but from several weeks back. Still, he was sure he had not remembered it incorrectly; it had been far too important. It belonged to the people to whom the diamonds were to be delivered and who were, in turn, to do him a favor. The phone was answered at last, an immediate appointment made, and he hung up with a faint smile. The washed-chamois bag was taken from his pocket and checked, after which he quietly let himself out of the apartment.
He returned in a relatively short while, whistling softly to himself. He withdrew a thin envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket, deposited it within the safe, swung the heavy door shut, and twisted the knob to lock it. He then went into the living room to pour himself a brandy, quite satisfied with his day’s work.
Lisa was sitting on the sofa, her bare legs tucked neatly beneath her, her ever-present box of bonbons on the floor at her side, chewing away fiercely, an expression of extreme concentration on her pretty face. Kek carried his drink to the sofa and sat down next to her. He sipped, placed his glass on the end table, found and lit a cigarette, and smiled at her.
“Why the angry scowl?”
Her light blue eyes came up, as if surprised to see him sitting there.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said, why the scowl? You’ll give yourself wrinkles.”
“I wasn’t scowling. I was thinking.” Lisa scowled again, to prove it. “Tell me, darling, how would you say ‘La Compagnie d’Acier des États Unis’ in English?”
Kek looked at her, a smile beginning to form on his lips. Knowing his Lisa, he had a fairly good idea of her reason for asking.
“In English it would be ‘the United States Steel Company’,” he said. “Why?”
“Because I’ve been sitting here thinking, and I think that would make a lovely name for one of our fictitious companies, don’t you?”
“An extremely lovely name,” Kek agreed with a grin, his suspicions confirmed. “Unfortunately, sweet, someone else thought of it sooner. There already is a United States Steel Company.” He finished his brandy and tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. “I don’t like to dampen the natural élan of any truly enthusiastic neophyte in the criminal business, especially in his—or her—formative years, but don’t you think I’d better handle the details, dear?”
Lisa pouted. “But you said we could work together on this!”
“We will, sweet, don’t worry. But you must admit it would look a bit strange if I walked into the Banque National de Paris to open an account, claiming to be the secretary-treasurer of Schneider-Creusot; or into the Hamburg Bank saying I was the sole one with permission to handle funds for Krupp, eh? And you certainly must admit those are lovely nam
es for industrial companies.”
“You needn’t be sarcastic.”
“I’m sorry, sweet. Although actually, you know, it’s quite remarkable the way your mind works.”
He smiled at her fondly, reached into his pocket, and brought out a leather pocket-secretary case. He pulled five different calling cards from five separate pockets in the leather folder, and reached them across to Lisa. Lisa took them a bit gingerly. She studied them and shook her head, frowning.
“And just who are all these men?”
“Me, my dear.” Kek grinned. He came to his feet and walked around the sofa, coming to stand behind her, bending down, touching her cheek with his affectionately. “This one, for example: Jan Vrebal, secretary-treasurer of the Washington Harvester Company. And this one: John Tenza of the United States Agricultural Equipment Company. Here we have J. J. Debroski, treasurer of the Northern States Equipment Company …” He walked back to his end of the sofa and sat down, leaning back, studying her face. “Why the upset expression? You know the plan.”
“But I didn’t know you’d started yet. You didn’t tell me.” Lisa’s tone clearly accused Kek of having somehow cheated. She suddenly added, almost defiantly, “And anyhow, how do you know these names you’ve invented aren’t also real companies?”
“Because I went to the public library and looked them up, sweet. In a beautifully bound, thick set of books that lists all the companies doing business in the United States, as well as their size and financial position. Wonderful! It’s called the Thomas Register”—he grinned—“and no honest swindler should be without one.”
The pout remained. “But you should have told me!”
Kek’s smile faded abruptly.
“My darling Lisa,” he said soberly, “I’m very sorry you’re involved in this matter at all. I’m very sorry that you have a streak of curiosity second to none, and very sorry you have a fat uncle in The Hague Gallery. I’m very sorry you learned somehow that I am not an art appraiser by profession, although anytime your uncle wants to place a small wager, I shall be overjoyed to accommodate him. I’m very sorry you had lunch with Vries Waldeck, and even sorrier that the silly fool couldn’t keep his mouth shut!”
“What you are really trying to say, darling,” Lisa said shrewdly, “is that you’re very sorry I’m not as stupid as you thought I was when you married me.”
“Exactly!” Kek said in complete agreement, and made no attempt to rob the statement of offense by smiling. His face was quite calm, his gray eyes chilling. “But I’m not so sure you’re as brilliant as you think, my sweet, because if you are going to work with me on this scheme, then you are going to do what you are told to do when you are told, and exactly how you are told to do it. Those are the rules for anyone who works with me, and you are going to follow them, or you are not going to work with me. Is that quite clear?”
For a moment it seemed from the growing storm clouds in Lisa’s blue eyes that there might be rebellion in the ranks, and Kek was fully prepared to deal with it. But then Lisa found, a bit to her own surprise, that she didn’t feel like arguing, that she enjoyed being spoken to in that tone and in that manner by Kek Huuygens. She knew herself well enough, however, to also recognize that this feeling might well be a fleeting one, but at the moment she didn’t mind being dominated at all.
“Yes, Master,” she said with a gamin grin, and assayed a bow from her seated position.
“Good,” Kek said seriously, and with an air of finality. He crushed out his cigarette and came to his feet, walking to the bar, pouring himself another brandy.
“Am I allowed to ask questions?” Lisa was studying the calling cards again.
“Of course.”
“Then why all the variations on the name John? Jan, John, J. J.—” She turned to another one. “Jack. And this last one, Johan. Not very much imagination, darling.”
“My dear Lisa, it’s plain to see you were never cut out to be a plotter. It is my intention to become extremely friendly with the bankers with whom I deal. It is also my intention to avoid seeing them in any way, socially, for lunch, or things like that. Still, I shall insist on being called by my first name—an odd quirk of mine.”
“So?”
“So if, for any unusual reason, I meet one when I am doing business with another, I expect to be called John, or a reasonable facsimile. A small thing, I admit, but the sort of small thing that has saved me from headaches—unnecessary headaches—in the past.” He drank his brandy and smiled. “The stationery—I’ll pick that up tomorrow and we can get to work. We’ll see how good your typing is.”
“You already ordered the stationery?”
Lisa must be more rattled than she appears, Kek thought, or else she’s reverting to type.
“Obviously,” he said, “if it will be ready tomorrow. I ordered it when I ordered the cards, but the cards were a matter of a day, and the stationery took longer. From five separate printing firms, if that requires stating …”
“But the money …”
“The money is in the safe right now. Half a million dollars.”
Lisa looked at him aghast. The mention of that large a sum of money suddenly made her realize it was not a game they were playing, but that her husband, Kek Huuygens, was everything Vries Waldeck had said he was, and was engaged in one of the most beautiful schemes she had ever heard of. Despite her complete knowledge of the plan, she suddenly realized she had been treating it, to a large extent, as if it were the plot of a stage play in which she would have a role, although not the lead. The mention of the money, and the stationery, and the calling cards brought the matter down to hard reality.
“We have half a million dollars in cash in this apartment?” She said it in a half-whisper.
Kek smiled at her gently, completely understanding her reaction.
“No, my sweet,” he said quietly. “We have five checks in the safe, each in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars, each made out to a different one of our lovely companies, and each will be deposited in a different bank tomorrow. They are all quite legal and are signed by—” He hesitated momentarily. “Well, shall we say, friends? Rather tough friends, but friends. Or possibly acquaintances would be even better.” His smile faded. “Which is one more very good reason to move quickly on this whole idea. The interest on that little loan happens to run to four percent—”
Lisa was surprised. Money and interest was one subject she knew well.
“So cheap?”
“—per month,” Kek finished dryly. “And if it weren’t for my good Swiss friend who allowed me to bring in some stones for him—for these friends—it would have been that much per week. In any event, if I want to keep the interest from exceeding the nominal sum of one hundred thousand dollars, as I promised Waldeck, then I have exactly five months in which to do the job.”
“So tomorrow you’ll visit the banks?”
“After giving you dictation, sweet.” He frowned. “And then, of course, we’re going to have to get to work on those catalogs. Those are the things that are going to take time. But for one million dollars, it’s worth the time.” He winked at her and poured himself another brandy.
Lisa came to her feet a bit shakily and walked over to the bar.
“I think I’ll have some of that, too,” she said.
Kek Huuygens was quite pleasantly surprised at the ease with which Lisa took his dictation down in shorthand, but when she could actually read it back with no trouble at all, and when she typed the first letter with breath-rattling speed and complete accuracy, he was truly amazed.
“My darling Kek,” Lisa said, pleased to have a bit of her own back again, “you don’t suppose that young girls raised in Maastricht are reared to end up on the stage playing silly ingenues, do you? When they are children they are taught to milk cows and feed pigs, and in school they are taught to cook and sew and type and keep house—”
“You can also cook?” Kek asked, amazed.
“Of course, darling, but I pr
efer restaurants. Do you mind?”
“Not if this scheme works out,” Kek assured her. “If it doesn’t, I’m afraid you may just have to prove that boastful statement,” and he turned to the letter.
He had to admit that the printer had more than justified the time he had taken by the perfection of his art. The paper he had chosen was a rag bond of the type only the most successful of companies could have afforded, and the simplicity of the font style clearly demonstrated no need for exaggerated boasting. The thing exuded confidence.
Translated into English, it read:
THE PITTSBURGH FARM EQUIPMENT CO.
Alliquippa, Pa.
Refer answer to:
File 798-WIC
All communications to:
P.O. Box 2365X Grand Central
New York City, N.Y.
Tel. LO-1-6224
December 6, 1948
Waldeck Imports Cie.
Rue Viala 64, Heembeek
Bruxelles, Belgique
Att’n: M’sieu Vries Waldeck
Dear M’sieu Waldeck:
A survey conducted for the Sales Department of our company by a leading research institute located in Berne, Switzerland, has indicated your company as one of the leading import firms in Belgium, and we should therefore like to introduce ourselves to you. Although a relatively new producer in the field of agricultural equipment, we are proud of our rapid growth and of the fine acceptance our products have enjoyed with users of agricultural machinery throughout the world.
Our survey also stressed the great need for equipment of the type we manufacture, particularly in countries such as Belgium whose industry was so shattered during the war. We therefore take the liberty of suggesting that should your firm not be involved at present in the importation of equipment of this nature, it might be well for you to investigate this profitable field.
Should you be interested in further details, we would be pleased to send you our catalogs and answer any questions. Should you or any of your representatives be visiting the United States, we should be most delighted to arrange a visit for you or them at our manufacturing facilities in Alliquippa.
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