by Peter Rabe
“Just a minute. There’s no check for five hundred thousand. There’s one for Kator and one for me and they are both for two hundred and fifty.”
It wasn’t news to Delf, but even if it had been he wouldn’t have acted differently.
“I mentioned that figure as an illustration only. Actually, we proceed in an accustomed manner. There will be some stock transfers, there will be diverse payments for services rendered to a number of companies with which Herr von Kator is affiliated, and your little personal arrangement will be settled between you two.”
“Like hell it will!”
This time even Delf looked human.
“You are new to this,” he said after a while. “My advice-”
“I don’t need it. I’m new to this, but not green.”
“Your idiom is not clear to me.”
“I want cash. Clear enough?”
For a while Delf’s spirals got blacker and tighter. The pencil made a thin sound. When Delf suddenly coiled the spirals the other way, everybody noticed it.
Even Jesso felt relieved when Delf gave a deep sigh and looked at Kator. Then Delf spoke to Kator as if they were alone in the room.
“Have you tried everything, von Kator?”
“It’s no use. He’s in.”
“We used to be very clever with this sort of thing, you remember?”
“I remember. The quick methods are self-defeating in this case. His information seems complicated.”
Jesso got it then. He listened as if they were discussing somebody else’s operation. An operation without ether, maybe.
“And the long methods defeat our time schedule,” said Delf.
“I know Mr. Jesso quite well by now. I suggest you pay me as in the past and make different arrangements for him.”
“What have you tried, von Kator?”
Jesso remembered what he had tried. He had tried frightening him to death, shooting him to death, tempting him to death. The only thing he hadn’t tried was giving in. Even now. And Delf was worse. Delf could sit there and make tired doodles while going over in his mind to break a man’s arm so it took half an hour, how to kill him while keeping him alive.
Jesso’s fingers were painfully clenched and a thick sweat was growing over his skin. Everywhere. Except on his face. He rarely sweated on his face. That was good. His hands were in his pockets, so they couldn’t see that. His face was dry, and nothing showed there. Only his jaw had started to set with a grip like murder and any moment it would show, it would show with a crazy jumping and trembling as if he had some nervous disease.
“Your judgment must do in this case, von Kator. Mr. Jesso?”
He hadn’t heard any of it, but now the tone was different and the room was just a room, with Kator looking correct and Delf making a simple doodle.
“Mr…”
“I hear you.”
“While cash is out of the question, Mr. Jesso, I can agree to make deposits in your name in any bank.”
“O.K.,” he said. “O.K., do that. Do it now.”
“What banks, Mr. Jesso?”
“I got an account at Chase. Put it there.”
“Only one bank?”
He was right. One bank was no good. The bulge would show too much. Jesso sat up. He was just getting to be himself again and it made him sit up.
“How do I know you’re depositing? How do I know this finishes it off and-“
“Mr. Jesso. I don’t see Herr von Kator behaving in this stupid, suspicious manner, and I also fail to see why you-“
“That’s because you and Kator are buddies, but Kator and me aren’t such good friends any more. I’m going by that, Delf, because with you I don’t know what to go on. Now, figure me out how to make a deposit and I know about it.”
“What banks, Mr. Jesso?”
“What banks, what banks! I give a damn what banks? The one in Hannover, right after the square where you leave the villa for town.”
“He means the Handelsbank,” said Kator. He had a smile on his face.
Jesso didn’t see it because he was getting impatient. “All right, the Handelsbank near that square. Fifty thousand.”
This time Kator laughed out loud.
“And what are you hee-hawing about?”
“It’s von Kator’s bank,” said Delf.
“So maybe they haven’t got room for another depositor?”
Kator wasn’t laughing any more; just sort of a grin was on his face.
“He owns it,” said Delf.
Jesso was going to yell again when Kator made a wave with his hand.
“It’s a legitimate bank, Jesso, and you are quite safe there. Just the thought struck me as amusing. I pay two per cent.”
“One buck to the Handelsbank,” said Jesso.
“You’re being ridiculous. I told you the bank is legitimate, and when I am legitimate, Jesso, I am completely so.”
Jesso believed that.
“Fifty thousand into Kator’s jug, and let me see how you do it, Delf.”
“I’ll call the bank by phone and-”
“I’ll call the bank by phone.”
“Certainly. And request the confirmation by wire. That is, if the phone isn’t enough for you.”
“It isn’t.”
After ten minutes Jesso was fifty thousand richer. “What other banks, Mr. Jesso?”
“Give me a Berlin directory.”
Delf coughed lightly and shook his head. “Fifty thousand is the total amount I will deposit for you in this country I explained to you that our transaction must appear as unimportant as possible. I would suggest you pick American banks. I can make payment there through local sources that cannot be identified with me at all.”
“I’m here, Delf, not in the States.”
“I have compromised with you; now you compromise with me.”
Jesso thought about it for a moment, then let it go.
Gluck wasn’t going to find him any more easily in the States than in Europe, and this deal was coming to a head. It wasn’t worth the delay.
“Chase National, fifty thousand.”
“Will you speak to them for confirmation or do you require a cable?”
“Both.”
It took half an hour while Jesso listened to the operator on the second phone on the desk. Then Delf started to talk and the man across the ocean answered.
“Is this Mr. Troy? Mr. Troy, this is Delf. Yes, thank you, quite well. You have an account in the name of Jack Jesso. Please deposit fifty thousand dollars to Mr. Jesso’s name and charge it to the Antwerp Gem Importers account… Yes, if you please… Indeed, indeed, she is as well as ever… I will, Mr. Troy, and the same to Mrs. Troy.”
That was that, and Jesso was one hundred thousand richer.
“Manufacturer’s Trust, New York.”
“Very well. However, the further deposits will be more complicated. The Antwerp account is the only one in the States with which my name is associated.”
“Manufacturer’s Trust, twenty thousand.”
Then came three others, ten thousand each, all of them in New York, and Jesso was worth one hundred and fifty thousand. He figured on putting the rest into places on the Coast, but that didn’t make sense. The less time he spent in the States collecting his loot, the better. His plans for the future had nothing to do with that side of the globe. But he had run out of banks, so he put fifty thousand in the Bank of America, Los Angeles, then American Express, New York, twenty thousand, and since he couldn’t think of anything else, another Los Angeles Bank, thirty thousand.
Jesso was worth a quarter of a million. Not counting the hundred thousand that he had stashed at Express in Hannover. Then Delf said, “And now for your part, Mr. Jesso” They looked at each other. “Which of these sets of figures shows production of the trigger?”
It didn’t occur to Jesso to stall. The deal was on, half of it finished, and he was next. Delf must have known that about Jesso. He had paid first. Or he had known that Jesso wouldn�
�t talk unless he was paid first. In any case, Jesso was next.
“Joe Snell kept saying, ‘Honeywell high.’ The high column of figures shows production of the trigger.”
Delf nodded, stopped making the spirals, and went over the columns. He checked it, folded the paper, and slid it into his pocket. That was all. Then he spiraled again.
But Kator wasn’t so calm. The slow rage grew on his face like an attack of the hives, and when his mouth came open as if it hurt, Jesso thought that the man would scream. Only a croak came out, a breathy, articulate croak.
“'Honeywell high'! That’s all-'Honeywell high'! A complicated bit of remembering, a complex piece of instruction that saved you all this time from-from-” His eyes shone as if he were seeing some swift, sharp torture that would have dragged anything out of him and now it was lost. He sat by when Jesso started to laugh, long and loud, and he sat by while Jesso got it out of his system because he was through with waiting and free to laugh. If Kator hadn’t been convinced before, he knew it now This time Jesso had told the truth. That’s the way that laugh had gone.
From now on it was an easy kind of waiting for Jesso. They sat around to wait for the cables to come, the last formality that would put the touch on the deal. They came one after the other, until four in the morning, and each time Jesso folded one and stuck it away, it was one more step into one great big future.
Chapter Nineteen
He didn’t really come back down to earth till they got outside. A blank sun was over the street, and the early morning looked anesthetic. It made Jesso feel dirty. He ached in the back and his shirt felt old. He could feel the socks in his shoes and it made him nervous.
“Where’s that damn car of your’s, Kator?”
They stood at the curb where the sprinkled asphalt started to steam in the sun. They sprinkled the streets. They glazed them early in the morning so that the poor bastard who had come out on the street real early in the morning could feel his eyeballs get sore in the sun.
“Didn’t you hear me?”
Kator had heard. He turned slowly, and when Jesso saw the look on that face he really came to. Kator was just getting ready. Kator wasn’t through by a long shot The hate on Kator’s face was distilled.
So Kator didn’t have to say a word for Jesso to see it all.
“You’re ready to fight?”
Then the car rolled up.
“I shall see you, Jack Jesso.” Kator opened the door.
For the moment it threw him. He had to blink and remember that Kator did things in a different way.
“You see this street, Jesso? It is empty,” Kator said. “Good-by, Jesso, and run as fast as you can.”
But when he got into his car Jesso pushed after him, sat down, slammed the door.
“Sporting chance, huh?” Jesso tried laughing. He gave it up quickly and talked. “I’m sticking close like a Siamese twin. I’m gonna sit on your back or in your pocket and watch you move. And if you move down a dark alley to get me so I can catch a slug, I’ll be so close, Kator, you’ll catch it in the same place I do, only first.”
“Get out of my car.”
Jesso leaned back, crossed his legs. “I left my toothbrush at your house.”
Kator wasn’t ready to laugh, and above all not on Jesso’s terms.
They drove to Tempelhof and they flew to Hannover and each wished the other was dead. They tried it quiet at first, but the tension between them was too close to the surface. It bound them together like steel wires so that Kator’s tight collar became Jesso’s discomfort and Jesso’s throat became Kator’s pain. And the next move perhaps would be big enough, would be enough of a shock to break things wide open. Each was the other’s disease as they sat scratching at time, straining to find the place where the cut could be made.
“You can stop chewing that lip of yours, Kator. You’ll eat yourself up.”
“It annoys you, Jesso? I hope it stays with you each time you face a meal.”
“You know, when I can’t think of a dirty word from now on, I’ll say Kator.”
“It is remarkable. I have never felt like this before, Jesso. The thought of you does not make me hate you. It is more like hate of myself, and that is the worst state of all.”
But it never broke, just got tighter. They probed each other for the clearest pain and each winced when his own strikes struck where he wanted it.
“Your toothbrush, you say. Might that be my sister?”
“They never made a thing that was related to you, Kator.”
“You think she is yours, then?”
“It wouldn’t mean anything to you.”
“You are right, Jesso. It is the other way around.”
“To her you’re just a whoremaster.”
“And she doesn’t mind it, Jesso.”
“That’s good. It’s good she doesn’t really know you, Kator.”
Both of them stopped at the same time. They left the plane and found Kator’s limousine waiting. Kator stopped talking about his sister and Jesso stopped talking about his woman. But he had to think about her. He thought about her as the only sane spot in the strong twist of his hate, the only spot where hate had no meaning, and so he really thought of Renette for the first time. He found it was hard to think of her. He remembered the tone of her voice, the feel of her skin, the way she stood, but all those things were parts only and the whole woman was hard to think about. As if he knew her so well that there was no point in thinking of it. If he were questioning her, any part of her, it would be different. But there was nothing to question, nothing to think, because she was all his and no doubts.
They crossed the square with the Herrenhauser Allee opposite and both of them had the same thought. It was a hope. It was as if the end had to come now, and the tight pull between them soon had to crack.
But when it happened it didn’t crack and there was no drama. Neither wanted to think about it, so it happened as if nothing happened at all. The car slid up and stopped by the door. Hofer was there. They saw Hofer stand there in his striped pants and frock coat, and they didn’t fit, because no clothes are made to fit an old man.
Hofer opened the car door and Kator got out. He said, “How are you, Hofer? It is good to be back.”
Then Jesso got out and said, “Good to see you, Hofer.”
Hofer followed them into the hall, where he took Kator’s coat. Jesso wasn’t wearing any.
“Your mail is in the study,” said Hofer, and Kator went there.
The dim hall was big and clean. Jesso thought of going upstairs, to the end of the corridor maybe, but then he stayed downstairs and went to the kitchen. They gave him a cup of coffee and he had it there leaning against the long pantry shelf. The maid was putting a tea service away.
“How’s Frau von Lohe?” Jesso asked.
“Quite well, sir. She is resting.”
Quite well, sir. Jesso gave up and lit a cigarette. Then he asked for another cup of coffee. He had it finished before he knew how, and he stamped his cigarette out on the saucer. He kept crushing the butt as if he were trying to burn through the porcelain.
What was he waiting for? He pushed himself away from the pantry shelf and made for the door. When he found himself still holding the cup, he almost threw it against the wall. He went back to the pantry, put down the cup, and got out.
She was resting. She was lying on the bed, wearing a house thing that went down to her feet, and when Jesso came in she didn’t turn at first because she was sleeping.
“Renette,” he said, and he stood looking down at her. Then he said her name again, low this time, but his voice was much more urgent because suddenly waiting was almost like pain.
She had a nice way of waking up. She opened her eyes slowly, saw him, and smiled, and then she lay there a while longer.
“Renette, do you hear me? It’s done. We’ve got to move fast.”
“You’re back,” she said. “You didn’t take long.”
“Renette, did you…”
“I’m happy for you,” she said. “It’s over now and you have what you wanted.”
“Almost. Listen, Renette. I’ve got to go to the States. They paid off through some banks in the States. So before something goes sour, we got to jump.”
She got up, fully awake now.
“You have to leave, Jesso?”
“I said the money is in the States.”
“You have no money at all? I can-”
“Listen, Renette. Most of it is over there, so here’s what we do.” He sat down on the bed and pulled her down next to him. “I’m going to ask your brother for a passport. The one I got now couldn’t get across the street without his help, and I want him to fix me a good one.”
“He will. He can-”
“He will like hell. Not unless you help me, Renette. You’ve got to pressure him some way so he gets me a passport quick, because the longer I wait from here on in, the more time he has to figure himself an angle.”
“Stay here,” she said. “We’ll go somewhere and you send for the money. You know, Jesso, we can-“
“Damn it, listen to me. We got to get to the States for this thing. There are angles you don’t know a thing about. Tax, immigration, and a dozen others. Your brother can play any one of them if he’s got the time.”
She got up and pushed her hands into the big pockets of her gown. It almost looked to Jesso as if she were suddenly twice as far away.
“Of course I’ll help you. Johannes will give you that passport.” She turned, leaned against the satin couch by the window. “How long will you be gone?”
“Perhaps-” Then he got up too. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
She just looked back at him. Jesso came closer.
“You’re going along, don’t you hear?”
“You don’t really have to go there, do you?”
He got very patient then. “Look, Renette. You’re arguing about something you don’t know a thing about. Pack something, get me that passport. I’ll get the tickets, and in a few days we’ll come back to-to whatever you had in mind. But don’t argue with me about this thing. It’s too big. You hear me?”