There was a long silence in the car. He hadn’t used the word love, Jane realized. She said, ‘I don’t doubt myself!’
He pulled her forward to kiss her and then he said, ‘Who’s talking about you?’
‘What?’ she said, the nervousness bunched in her stomach.
‘The very beautiful, very clever, very sexy lady I was talking about is named Agnes Cludd and is the attendant of a restroom in a little bar I know off the Champs Elysées.’
‘Bastard!’ she said, snatching out to kiss him again.
‘No more goofy scenes?’
‘No more goofy scenes,’ she promised.
Pike restarted the car and edged back out into the traffic system.
‘Tell you something,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘You’ve got a better ass than Agnes Cludd.’
Pike had expected an older banker: naturally not as old as his father, because that would have reflected upon Jane, but certainly not the hard-bodied, athletic-looking man who came hand outstretched across the room and shook his own almost too firmly. Burnham had tousled black hair, an open face and wore a sports club tie of some sort.
‘At last,’ said Burnham. ‘I was expecting you weeks ago.’
‘It hasn’t been an easy job to settle into,’ lied Pike. The feeling towards the other man was curiosity, Pike decided; definitely not the jealousy he had so easily denied to Jane on the way back from Cambridge. What was there to be jealous about, after all? Could she still be having an affair with the man? It was possible, he supposed: except that she always appeared to be at the apartment when he called. And her weekends were always free. Hardly convincing indicators. And did it matter? There was no commitment from either side. He hadn’t bothered with other women in Paris because he’d wanted to get the job under control first: in fact there was a sexual convenience to the arrangement with Jane, going beyond the access to the Bank of England thinking that she gave him. But there was no restriction upon what she did when he was away.
‘No,’ agreed Burnham. ‘It isn’t easy, is it?’
Pike settled into the chair Burnham indicated, aware of the photograph of the man’s family framed upon the desk.
‘The involvement seems to be global, with the entry of American banks,’ said Pike.
‘Being an international organization you’ve more accurate facilities than us in making an overall assessment,’ said Burnham.
Unoffended by the blatant lure, Pike said, ‘There’s no absolutely accurate way of assessment. Our estimate is in the region of $300,000,000,000.’
‘In new loans, additional to those already allocated?’
‘Yes,’ said Pike. When, he wondered, was the other man going to contribute something?
‘I think it’s too high,’ said Burnham.
Knowing of Burnham’s feeling from Jane, Pike said, ‘Is that a personal opinion or that of the Bank?’
‘It began as a personal one. But it’s gaining support.’
Jane hadn’t told him that, thought Pike. He said, ‘There’s a remarkable stability.’
‘Thank God,’ said Burnham.
‘How much concern is there here?’ pressed Pike.
‘I head a special unit,’ said Burnham, unaware of the American’s knowledge. ‘They’re not often formed.’
‘Are your commercial banks aware of it?’
Burnham hesitated. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Confidence is always a fragile thing: the impression might be conveyed that we’re more worried than we are.’
‘Its very existence is a danger, if word were to get out.’
‘We’re being extremely careful to ensure that it doesn’t,’ said Burnham.
‘What do you intend doing, beyond monitoring?’ Although he’d been expecting it, the caution concerned Pike. He realized he had become infected with the unanimous enthusiasm of every other European bank and international financier with whom he’d had contact in the last few months, an enthusiasm he remembered warning against when the financial movements first began.
This time the hesitation from Burnham was longer at his awareness that Pike had taken over the dominant role. At last he said, ‘The Bank of England has a clearly defined and established responsibility. Nearly all our major clearing banks are approaching what is considered the limit of their reserve ratio.’
‘You mean a public warning?’
‘No,’ corrected Burnham at once. ‘An extremely discreet one.’
‘Let’s be practical,’ argued Pike. ‘No matter how discreet you attempt to make it and no matter how confidentially it’s treated by the individual banks, word would inevitably leak out. And there would go the confidence you’ve already spoken about, like water down a drain.’
‘I know,’ said Burnham heavily.
This was the first cloud in an otherwise clear sky, thought Pike. And a big one. London was still the leader: a story that began as a ripple here in Threadneedle Street would be a tidal wave by the time it hit the banks of New York, Melbourne and Tokyo. Things got washed away by tidal waves. Like reputations. It was something he was going to have to keep under tight control through Jane. How much, he wondered, was Burnham imposing his own hesitant attitude upon the special unit and the bank directors beyond that? Another thing to find out from Jane. He was damned lucky to have formed the relationship.
‘Knowing the knock-on effect it would have, it’ll be a big decision to make,’ said Pike. ‘Maybe even catastrophic’
‘I know that too,’ said Burnham.
They’d ended the exchange with the score about even, decided Pike. He wondered how Burnham compared in bed.
Janet’s affair with the painter began on the tour, when neither had anyone else. She was excited by it because she’d never made love to a bisexual and she was always excited by something new. When they returned to New York Santez introduced her to his male lovers. The homosexual scene was another new experience and Janet was thrilled by that too. Santez had one particular man, a former seaman named James who was a painter now. Janet hung his pictures in the gallery and that exhibition was a success, like the earlier exhibition of Santez’s work. It was in James’s apartment that Janet first took heroin, another experiment. She was nervous with the hyperdermic and James helped her. Afterwards they all three went to bed. She watched them make love and then they made love to her, both of them. It became very regular and Janet enjoyed it every time, better than she’d enjoyed other drugs or other sex before.
James did the buying, because he knew the dealers. The gallery was crowded on the Saturday, because both Santez and James were displaying some new work. There were photographers there, too, which made it worse.
She realized later that it was James she heard shout, although she didn’t hear what he said. Then there was a scream from some woman. James’s arms were already handcuffed behind his back when she reached them and a second FBI man was on the point of arresting Santez.
‘This is entrapment, motherfucker,’ shouted James.
‘Kiss my ass, fag,’ said the Bureau man.
‘What’s happening?’ demanded Janet.
‘You Janet Ambersom?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re being busted, lady: that’s what’s happening.’
Chapter 22
It was their final appearance in front of the economic subcommittee before it presented its report to the full Politburo and Lydia and Malik prepared themselves carefully for it, conscious of its importance. Separately they reviewed the scheme from the moment of its inception, ensuring nothing had been overlooked, then they held their own conference, their professionalism subjugating their personal relationship. They entered the Kremlin session confidently, nodding with accustomed familiarity to the assembled men. Yakov Lenev was chairman, as usual. Viktor Korobov and Ivan Pushkov flanked him on either side. Lydia and Malik had for the first time been allocated places at the main table so that they formed part of the committee.
‘Is everything complete?’ asked Lene
v.
‘We think so,’ said Malik.
‘We’ve attained sufficient indebtedness?’ asked Korobov.
‘The total is $650,000,000,000,’ said Lydia. ‘Of that, $230,000,000,000 is against the Soviet Union, the remainder throughout the satellites.’
‘Western money?’ qualified Pushkov.
Malik nodded. ‘The spread is fairly even, but Europe is the predominant lender.’
‘America sought involvement?’ said Lenev.
Malik smiled briefly towards Lydia, recalling the earlier doubt of the committee that the American banks would come forward. ‘Their total is $1,500,000,000,’ he said. ‘They have to be less than anyone else at the moment, of course.’
‘What’s the satellite dependence upon us?’ asked Pushkov.
‘$300,000,000,000,’ said Malik. ‘Predominantly short-term. And then there’s the Third World: that’s important, as we have already explained.’
‘The call-in will not arouse suspicion?’
‘None,’ assured Malik. ‘That’s been important throughout, but is particularly so at this stage. It’ll only be from our own bloc, of course: we don’t want to lose influence in the uncommitted nations.’
‘When does the gold sale commence?’ said Pushkov.
‘Immediately,’ said Malik. ‘There’s no danger from calling in the loans, but the sale will provide an explanation if one is sought by any of the analysts.’
‘How much?’
‘We’ve arranged complete cover through nominees,’ said Lydia. ‘They’ll only be able to make the vaguest estimate. It will appear that a sudden shortage of foreign currency made the sale necessary, specifically for the purpose of meeting the debts.’
‘But that we’re still being absolutely responsible, by making the sale,’ added Malik. ‘That’s got to be the keynote throughout.’
‘So far we’ve only talked about financial debts,’ said Lenev. ‘What about export guarantees?’
‘As widespread as the loans themselves,’ said Lydia. ‘To ourselves and the other six within the bloc, Western governments are extended to guarantee pledges of $260,000,000,000. That’s always been how it was to start.’
Lenev looked to the men on either side of him and then back at Malik and Lydia. ‘This is an exciting moment,’ he said. ‘An historic one.’
‘We hope it will be shown to be,’ said Malik modestly: he remembered saying that to Lydia, months ago. He paused and said, ‘We need authority to proceed to the final stage.’
Again Lenev looked to both committee men with him and then said, ‘We’ll make a full presentation to the Politburo tomorrow. But I can assure you there will be no difficulty. From this moment you can take it that approval has been given.’
Jane asked him not to wait for her at the bank so Pike used the time to return to her flat to contact Paris, for any weekend messages. He also made a careful résumé of his meeting with Burnham and was checking it when Jane came home. It was difficult for Pike to hold back until he’d made her a drink. As he gave it to her he said, ‘I hadn’t appreciated the attitude I’d find.’ He tried to avoid it sounding accusatory but wasn’t sure he succeeded.
‘What attitude?’
‘Your people are scared.’
‘I told you that.’
She had, conceded Pike. ‘I hadn’t appreciated how much. Or that the attitude had spread beyond Burnham and his immediate unit.’
‘I’m not sure it has,’ said Jane. ‘Last week’s analysis pointed up the estimated commitment of the commercial banks, but I’m not aware of any response from the Court. Burnham’s a member, so maybe he knows in advance.’
It had been a mistake to be complacent about the advantage he had with Jane at the Bank of England, decided Pike. He said, ‘Burnham said warnings might be sent out.’
Jane frowned at his persistence. ‘Darling,’ she said patiently, ‘banks can only lend a percentage of their stated assets. If we see that they’re nudging the limit or likely to exceed it, a warning is practically automatic’
She was right to be patronizing, admitted Pike. ‘That could cause uncertainty: panic even. Burnham’s worried about confidence. Every banker is.’
‘No one’s reached the limit yet,’ Jane pointed out reasonably. ‘Paul was bound to be pessimistic: don’t forget he’s opposed the accepted assessment all along. He’s arguing his case.’
Right again, thought Pike. ‘Seemed strange, getting a contrary view,’ he said.
Her frown deepened. ‘Don’t say Paul’s changed your mind!’
‘Of course not,’ said Pike. ‘How could he have done!’
Jane looked away, into her glass. ‘What did you think of him?’
Pike paused. Had he been jealous at the meeting with Burnham? He pushed the thought aside, irritably. ‘Clever,’ he said. ‘Intelligent, too: clever people often aren’t. On top of everything. Very confident …’ There was another hesitation. ‘Also very attractive, I guess.’ He wondered again how he compared in bed.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘What did you think of him?’ demanded Pike. Surely that was a jealous question?
She looked at him curiously. ‘Something like that.’
Neither spoke for several moments and then she said, ‘It’s over. Finished. You know that, don’t you?’
‘We’ve never talked about it,’ he reminded her. ‘But I guess so, yes.’
‘It is,’she insisted.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to share you.’
She smiled, pleased with his attitude. ‘Going back tomorrow?’
‘Yes,’ said Pike. ‘I called Paris before you came in; my father’s making a visit.’
Chapter 23
It was the first time since Pike’s European secondment that his father had visited Paris and Pike felt a burn of embarrassment at the nervous preparation that preceded the older man’s arrival. But the apprehension was less than usual, he realized, surprised; certainly less than when they’d been together at the Chase Manhattan and even during their encounters afterwards, when he’d moved to the Federal Reserve. Pike was curious at his attitude, conscious of it during the official greetings and the immediate meetings which followed, in all of which he was included. Before Pike had always felt imprisoned, but now the jail gates had opened – he hadn’t known when or how – and he felt free. Which was a contradiction, because he was as closely linked with his father at the IMF as he had been at the Chase, apart from a physical distance of 3500 miles.
The meetings were formalities, staged performances for which he did not have to concentrate fully to follow the lines and he thought instead of the changed demeanour. Was he as closely linked? Superficially, perhaps. But there was a difference from everything that had happened before. Inherently there was the influence of the name, but Pike knew he’d proved himself to everyone in Paris and Geneva, independently of any sycophancy the officials might have felt necessary to show. And not just here, in Europe. There was New York, before that. Proved himself and stayed ahead of the game, in every assessment. It had been an aberration to become affected by Burnham’s pessimism: the English attitude shouldn’t be ignored but neither should it be made more than it was.
After the formal morning meetings there was the formal lunch, followed by formal afternoon sessions and a formal cocktail party before the formal official dinner, so it was nearly midnight before they returned together to the apartment by the Seine, with its view of the floodlit Notre Dame. Pike thought his father looked tired, which was hardly surprising considering the activities of the day directly following the flight from America but still something which registered with him. His father had always seemed indestructible, someone spared the frailties of others: another altered impression, Pike realized.
‘Your mother almost came,’ said the older man. ‘She was keen to see you. I put her off when I saw the tightness of the schedule.’
‘Maybe I’ll make a trip home soon,’ said Pike. ‘Still a lot to be done here f
irst.’
The IMF director unbuttoned his waistcoat and eased off his shoes, sighing back into the chair with the best view of the French capital through the uncurtained windows. ‘Appreciate what you’ve done for me, Tom. It’s been a first-class job.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it.’
‘Surprised by the reduction in the Federal rate?’
‘Not really,’ said Pike. ‘It had to happen.’
‘Except that the damned fool Bell didn’t realize the need. I made it happen.’
‘You!’
His father nodded, pleased with his son’s surprise. ‘Running scared to make a decision after Volger and the others backed him into a corner, so he came to me.’ He smiled. ‘And guess what?’
‘What?’
‘Made it clear in the Cabinet meeting that I approved the lowering: that I thought it was a good idea.’
Pike frowned. ‘Aren’t the boundary lines getting a little crossed here?’
‘Damned sure they are, but Bell’s committing the indiscretions, not me. And he’s too stupid to see the hole he’s digging for himself. He promised me it was a private meeting but let the Cabinet know about it so that if it went wrong he wouldn’t be carrying the can. So I’m going to get the credit and Bell is going to be the Treasury Secretary who tried to hedge his bet. I can’t go wrong.’
‘What about Ambersom?’
His father looked at him surprised and then said, ‘Of course, you wouldn’t know: I’m sorry.’
‘Know what?’
‘Janet has been arrested: allowing the gallery to be used for heroin-trafficking.’
‘What!’
‘Involved with some homosexual painters, apparently. It hasn’t come to trial yet but the scandal is big enough. Won’t affect Ambersom at the World Bank, of course. But he’s out of the running as far as coming into the government is concerned. I’ve got a clear field.’
Kremlin Conspiracy Page 19