Jenny thought of something else. “I’m sorry to mention this, but when is Nick’s funeral? We have to go back to Marbella tomorrow and I suppose you have to get back to Florida. I’m wondering how we’re going to get everything sorted out before we leave.”
“It’s on Tuesday morning. I have to be in Miami by Monday latest, to help with the final details. I can’t miss my father’s funeral at any cost.”
Leticia sighed, “But how can we try to make some progress before we all leave?”
Jenny had worked out the only option. “We’re going back to Ramseyer, Haldemann’s. Now we’ve got both keys we’ll see what’s really in that box. There may be some explanation there from Charlie.” She picked up the folder with the statements. “Let’s go.”
Schneider came from his office and Jenny explained the situation to him. They would contact him when things were clear. Since they had to leave the next day, he may have to act upon instructions from Spain or some other place.
“Then you can use our Global Internet Banking system,” he announced importantly. Mr. Bishop and Mr. Martinez used it all the time. It’s absolutely secure and you can access it from anywhere at all. I’ll explain to you how to operate it, it will take just a few minutes.”
In his office, Schneider went through the procedure with them. He explained the Internet indemnity documents and other bank precautions. They signed the authorisation documnts then used the keyboard on his desk to introduce their new PIN numbers into the system.
“I’ll get the new parameters set up this afternoon and courrier the countersigned documents and everything else over to you at the hotel before you leave. Now, is there anything more I can do for you?”
At this, Jenny had another thought. “Could you let me have a copy of the Angolan Clan bank statements for last year?”
The banker returned with the statements in a plastic folder and Jenny placed the others with them.
He accompanied them to the main doors. “I’m sorry that you’ve had such a fruitless visit, on top of the bad time you’ve been through. I look forward to hearing from you when you have located your other partners. I’m sure there is a perfectly simple explanation for their absence.”
After shaking hands and thanking him, they went out to find a cab to take them to Pâquis. The sound of a loudly blown nose drifted through the closing door behind them.
In her office on the sixth floor, Mademoiselle Rousseau took out her mobile phone. “Bonjour, mon amour. I have lots of news for you.”
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Friday, 25th April, 2008
Geneva, Switzerland
When they got out of the taxi, Adam took in the surrounding red light area with surprise. “I guess Charlie must have had a good reason for choosing this place, I just hope it wasn’t what it looks like.”
Leticia punched him on the arm. “Don’t be disgusting. Charlie didn’t do things like that. He didn’t need to.”
Gilles Simenon welcomed them at the door of Ramseyer, Haldemann and Company. “Mr. Jolidon asked me to advise him when you returned, I’ll just call him.”
The directeur minced over to them and shook hands. “Good afternoon, ladies, I assume that you have found your missing key, since you are back again.” He looked Adam up and down, as if expecting an introduction. The South African said nothing.
Jenny was cautious. “We are ready to open the safety deposit now, Mr. Jolidon.”
“There is just one formality before that, if you don’t mind. We must try to maintain our register of safety box owners up to date. It’s difficult, because keys get handed down without our knowledge. Since there have been some changes in your case, I have the forms here.”
“We thought there is no need to record our names. Isn’t this an anonymous safety box?”
“It is anonymous to everyone except our company, Mme. da Costa. But we need to advise the banking authorities that we have been diligent in our customer management. There are lots of regulations now. It’s awfully tedious.” He placed the forms on the reception desk and handed Leticia a pen. Each of them filled out their name and address and signed the forms.
Jolidon said, “Mr. Peterson, is it? I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gave Adam an approving smile. “Now if you’ll just sign the register, we’ll go down to the vault.”
They all signed as requested then went through the security lift and steel doors into the enormous circular room. Adam looked around, impressed with the security in the building.
“If you’ll kindly produce your keys, we’ll open up box no. 72.”
Jolidon inserted the key that Gilles handed him from the cupboard, and Leticia and Adam entered theirs in the other two locks. They turned the three keys.
“Now Mr. Simenon and I will turn away while you enter the access number. I just want to ensure that you have no further difficulties.”
Jenny wasn’t keen on doing this while Jolidon was in the room, but positioning herself between Leticia and the two men, she entered into the keypad on the door, one, five, eleven, four five. Ellen had been a Scorpio, born on the fifteenth of November. Leticia looked at her with relief. Another clever clue from Charlie.
“Et voila!” Jolidon turned and gestured like a magician as the door released. He made no attempt to leave.
Jenny said, “Thank you, Gentlemen, we’d like to be alone now.” The directeur looked rather put out, then he took Gilles by the arm and they exited the room.
When he got back to his office, Jolidon made a call on his mobile phone. All he said was, “The women are back. They’ve found the other key.”
“I don’t know what that was all about. We’ve never had to give any information to the banks where we have our other safety deposits.” Jenny was becoming suspicious about the directeur. She reflected that she was becoming suspicious of almost everyone she met recently.
Adam peered around the massive vault at ceiling level. The circular band of safe doors seemed to be unbroken and there was nothing on the ceiling except spot lights arranged in a pattern, spelling out R. H. C.
“What are you looking for?”
“CCTV cameras, I wouldn’t like to think that anyone else is privy to our business.”
Leticia looked around. “I can’t see anything. In any case, I think it’s not possible to have such cameras in a private vault.”
“When we ship the diamonds to my customers we won’t need this place any more, so we’ll just let it go. Speaking of diamonds, shall we open the box?” Adam extracted the box from the safe and placed it on the table. It was larger than the previous boxes, and heavier. “After you.” He invited Leticia to open it.
“Even if I know what’s inside, I’m still very nervous.” She opened the lid.
Inside the box there was a battered old leather briefcase, like a lawyer’s document case.
“Charlie’s case!” Jenny’s eyes pricked with tears. “Thirty years, and still going strong.”
She put the briefcase to one side. Underneath it in the box there were six cardboard files, labelled with dates from the past. The first file was labelled Angolan Clan Account. 1975-1980. It was full of financial documents from the earliest days of the partnership. In the front were fastened the bank statements and transaction slips. Behind them were typewritten listings of the transactions, each entry carefully ticked off with a red pencil, closed off on the twenty-fifth of April 1980. The statements changed appearance over the years and the listings changed to Excel print-outs in the nineties. The last statement in the file was dated 30th September, 2007. Charlie must have put it in when he came in last October, she realised.
Putting down the last file, Jenny picked up the briefcase, undid the strap fastenings and unlocked the clasps with the small key from the safety deposit box at Klein, Fellay. When she pressed the lock, it opened. “Amazing,” she said to the others, “Charlie didn’t lock it with the code. Good thing, since I don’t know it.” For once he’d made things simple for them.
She too
k out the contents of the case and placed them on the table. There were ten chamois leather pouches, each tied with a string like an old fashioned lady’s purse. They were the original pouches that Henriques had filled with the rough stones.
Adam unfastened them and emptied the contents into ten piles on the leather surface. The two women gasped at the lustrous brilliance before them. One pile was comprised of stones of about two carats, large and brilliant cut, the facets showing the reflection of every available ray of light. The other piles were of smaller stones, but just as radiant. It was as if a bright fire had suddenly been lit on the table.
Jenny took some of the diamonds and poured them from hand to hand, just as Laurent had done, three decades before. The gems flooded with light, like a stream of brilliantly lit clear water trickling through her hands. So this is what Olivier, Manuela and Henriques died for. Beautiful, but deadly. Is anything worth that sacrifice?
“Dios mío. Qué magnífico! My God. How magnificent!” Leticia couldn’t believe her eyes, she had never before seen anything so exquisite. She took one of the large stones and held it on her finger, like a ring. “Maybe Adam will let us have one each, as a reminder of the Angolan Clan.” She smiled mischievously at the South African.
Adam said nothing. He was looking at the piles of stones with a trance-like expression.
There was still something in the briefcase, a soft felt bag. Jenny carefully removed it and took from it the last three items.
The first was a small silver frame. Inside the frame was a one thousand dollar note. It was obviously extremely old, with a picture of a moustached man from the forties, wearing a wing collar. One of Henriques’s notes, part of the half million dollars, she realised.
“Look at this.” She showed it to the others. “I wonder how much it’s worth today.”
“Probably as much as the original half million,” Adam said seriously.
There was another frame, a simple wooden one, containing a faded article cut from a newspaper, with a photograph. In the centre of the photograph was a very young-looking Charlie Bishop, long sideburns and moustache, shaking hands with a tall, stern-faced, prematurely balding man wearing an army uniform. Dozens of medals adorned his chest. On the other side of the officer was a smartly dressed, dark-haired, latin-looking fellow. He was laughing at the camera as if he’d just heard a good joke. At the other side of Charlie, three more army officers stood, their smiles not quite hiding the smug expression on their faces.
The caption underneath the photo read:
Primeiro-Ministro Gonçalves visita APA.
Outra história de sucesso de Governo.
Someone had written the date of the article in the corner of the paper, 27th May, 1975. “What does it say, Leticia?” Jenny handed her the frame.
Leticia looked at the article. Tears came to her eyes at the sight of the handsome young Englishman in the photo. Oh, Charlie, why did you have to leave me?
She pulled herself together. “It says, ‘Prime Minister Goncalves visits APA. Another Government success story.’ I remember this from Charlie’s history, it’s the Nationalisation Committee, on the TV.”
“I don’t think Nick told me about that. I’ll ask you for the full story when we’ve got more time.” Adam looked at the article and handed the frame back to Jenny
“So that’s Olivier.” She looked thoughtfully at the photo. “What a nice-looking man.” Memories of the dreadful end to the Angolan adventure flooded into her mind.
“Finally we can see what one of Charlie’s partners looks like. It’s funny, the only one we have seen and he died thirty years ago, but we haven’t seen any who are still alive.” Leticia shivered at the thought.
She picked up the last item from the briefcase. It was a small ring box. She undid the old fashioned clasp and opened it. The solitaire diamond in the ring glistened in the light from the ceiling spots. As she showed it to the others, it seemed to wink at them.
“It must be Ellen’s ring, the one that Nick gave her.” I wonder what became of Maggie Attwell, and her son, Alan, Jenny mused.
“I think you should have this, Leticia, from my father. It’ll be thirty-five years old soon, same as you. Happy birthday.” Adam slipped it onto her engagement finger.
“That’s the wrong hand. Men, honestly!” Jenny transferred it to the other hand.
“It’s beautiful. Are you sure? It was from Charlie, don’t you want to wear it, Jenny?”
“It fits your finger perfectly. Too perfectly to change.” Jenny held up Leticia’s hand, admiring the lovely diamond. “Charlie would want you to have it and so do I.”
They turned back to the safety deposit box. Lying at the bottom was the last item, another brown envelope, A4 size. Leticia picked it up and, from experience, she shook it upside down and three sheets of paper fell out.
The first sheet was a signature form from Banque de Commerce de Genève. It referred to an account in the name of International Diamond Dealers SA. The names of Jenny and Leticia appeared with an empty signature box against each. It was undated and the sheet was signed by Charlie, as a director of the company.
The second sheet was a Resolution from a meeting of the Board of IDD, appointing Jenny and Leticia as directors of the company. It was also undated and signed by Charlie, as chairman.
The third sheet was in Charlie’s handwriting, dated February 23rd, 2008. Jenny read it out loud.
Dearest Leticia and Jenny,
You’ve reached the end of the trail. Congratulations.
I’m sad to say this is my last message. The bank is just 100 metres along from the IDD office, on the corner of the Rue du Mont Blanc. The manager’s name is Brigitte Aeschiman. I hope that everything has worked out as planned. I love you both and wish you and Emilio much happiness.
Love from Charlie.
“That’s the bank I sent the million dollars to.” Adam stopped speaking and looked at the two women. They were both silently rereading the note, tears running down their cheeks.
“What is it?” he asked.
“It’s Charlie’s last message,” Leticia said sadly. “He’s been leading us from place to place, as if he was still there. But now it’s over. He’s not there any more.” She put her arm around Jenny’s shoulder and they looked at the small pile of items on the table.
“Goodbye, Charlie. Thanks for everything.” Jenny had finally come to terms with his story and the truth behind his fortune. Leticia had been right. Charlie was a hero, not a villain. She picked up the photograph and banknote and placed them in the felt bag. They both felt as if an invisible guiding cord had snapped and now they had to find their own way forward.
Adam tried to lighten the atmosphere. “I’ll have to be extra nice to you in future. You’re in control of my money now.”
Jenny looked at her watch, it was three forty-five. “You’re right, Adam. Put the diamonds back and let’s go straight to the bank, they should still be open. We need to get our signatures recorded before we leave tomorrow. Now that Charlie and Nick are gone there is nobody who can sign for IDD. We’ve got to be ready to deliver the diamonds and operate the bank account. If we don’t do it now, it might mess up your transactions.”
He carefully poured the stones back into the pouches and replaced them in the briefcase, put everything in the box and closed the safe door. Leticia pressed the bell to call for Gilles.
Mr. Jolidon came back in. “Gilles has gone out for a while, can I help you?” He seemed rather uneasy, pushing his hair back several times.
Jenny was succinct. “We’d like to lock up now, we’ve finished our business, thank you.” Adam turned his key in the lock, Leticia did the same.
“Oh. You’re leaving already?” Jolidon looked flustered. He turned his key in the lock and replaced it in the cupboard. He followed them through the steel doors and they got into the lift. As they walked towards the outside doors, he said, “If I may make a suggestion.”
They turned, not wishing to waste any further t
ime. “Yes?”
“I was thinking. To avoid having any future difficulties in accessing the vault, perhaps I could have a copy of one or both of the keys made for you. It could be done quite quickly.”
Jenny replied. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea. As you told us yourself, each key is unique and I think it’s better to keep it that way, don’t you, Monsieur? Now we’re in rather a hurry, so anything further can wait until we return.”
At this, he opened the main doors for them. They walked out and crossed the street towards the Rue du Mont Blanc, heading for the bank.
“I don’t trust that man,” said Jenny. “How can he imagine that we’d let him copy our keys? The sooner we move everything from there, the better.”
“I absolutely agree,” said Adam. “Shifty-looking bloke with a bad breath. I wouldn’t trust him an inch.”
As they turned the corner, a black BMW drew up in front of the Ramseyer, Haldemann building. Two men jumped out and ran to the door, which was being held open by Jolidon.
“You’ve just missed them,” he said petulantly, flicking a hand in their direction.
“Merde. Fucking traffic!” The two men turned and ran to the corner just in time to see them walking away. They stopped, came back and went inside with the directeur.
Adam had turned to look behind him as they turned the corner. He saw the two men run towards them then stop when they walked onto the main street. He said nothing to the women.
Brigitte Aeschiman was a striking-looking brunette in her early forties, with a full figure, still carrying a little extra weight after the birth of her first child. Like almost everyone they had met in Geneva, she spoke perfect English, this time with a charming French accent, almost like a lisp. She showed them a photograph of her new daughter, Camille. She had only been back at the bank for a month, after five months of maternity leave. It had been a difficult pregnancy.
[African Diamonds 01.0] The Angolan Clan Page 48