Offspring

by Stan Mason

  ‘I’m afraid it’s very short notice. Can you be here at four o’clock this afternoon?’

  ‘I’ll be there. At four o’clock. Do I need to bring anything with me?’ The line went dead without warning and I turned to the inspector coldly. ‘I have to leave,’ I told him, ‘but you can contact me at the newspaper office if you need me.’ I gave him one of my business cards and shuddered at the state of the apartment as I glanced round before leaving. The administrator of expenses at the newspaper would never believe me if I submitted another claim for the damage. I had no idea what the loss-adjuster of the insurance company would say when he saw the debacle. The police inspector was very unhappy at my departure as he had intended to question me further. However, after confirmation of my immunity by the spokesman at the House of Commons there was little he could do about it. I was very surprised Maitland had made any comment at all. The Prime Minister expressed a view I was on my own if there was ever any trouble. It was the first time in my life the government had ever been on my side, except just before the General Election when they tried to get me to vote for them.

  I took a taxi to the newspaper office and went immediately to see Ted Flanders, knowing exactly how he would react when he saw me. He was sitting in a smoke-filled office with a cigar burning brightly between his lips, poring over an edition of the newspaper. As I entered, he glanced up and sat back in his chair, staring at me as though I had forgotten to spray on my deodorant.

  ‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ he demanded in his usual off-beat manner. ‘You must think you’re still on holiday! Did you forget we employ you... pay your wages! You go beetling off on some spree without telling a single soul and then crawl back in here expecting sympathy. Just who do you think you are? More to the point, when are you going to get down to some decent work? Do you know who gets the ulcers round here? I do... because I’m responsible for everything that happens! I’m the one who has to bear the cross! And what do you do? Go out on some bender without so much as ‘by your leave’.’ He looked at me in mock fury. ‘What have you got this time... or are you asking for more research to be done to get you off the hook?’

  I waved my hand forwards and backwards across the gloom. ‘You need a smoke extractor in here, Ted,’ I muttered. ‘Otherwise you’ll suffocate to death!’ I began to laugh loudly. ‘But don’t worry, if that happens most of the staff will chip in to buy you a wreath. I’m sure of it!’

  ‘Funny!’ he snapped sarcastically. ‘Very funny!’

  ‘Has Research come up with anything yet?’ I asked, anticipating another onslaught with much richer language this time.

  ‘They’re still working on it!’ he rattled, counter to my expectations.

  ‘I’ve been very successful,’ I boasted calmly. ‘Very successful. You’ll be pleased to know my trip cost absolutely nothing... except for two airline tickets, but more people have died. The last one in my apartment. It’s getting real rough out there.’ He failed to show any interest in my remarks but it was clear he wanted me to continue. ‘I bought the files of Nazi war criminals relating to three countries. France, Czechoslovakia and Greece.’

  His ears pricked up quickly. ‘You what? I thought you said it cost you nothing except for the airline tickets!’

  ‘That’s right. It didn’t cost the newspaper a cent.’ His body relaxed with a sigh of relief. I placed the white envelope on his desk with some degree of pride. ‘These sets of microfilm tell us all we want to know about the war criminals in those countries and I want hard copies made of them. Three sets should be sufficient.’

  ‘What do you intend to do with them?’

  ‘One set will remain here. I’ll take two to the House of Commons. I think we ought to keep the originals in a safe place, don’t you? More important is a meeting I’m going to this afternoon. I hope to meet Der Bankvorsteher... the man who’s in charge of all the Nazi funds in the world. Naturally, I have to go alone but I want to carry a clever mechanical device which can’t be detected to take a photograph of him.’

  For the first time in my life Ted Flanders showed an interest in my welfare. ‘Jimmy, boy!’ he began, with a worried expression on his face, causing all his wrinkles to show. ‘I know the game is rough and I’m really worried about you. Take care... don’t take any foolish chances!’

  ‘Why, Ted!’ I returned with a smile on my face. ‘Don’t say you’re showing traits of a human-being in your old age! Perhaps I should tell you there’s a Russian criminal on the loose who’ll be after my blood shortly. He doesn’t mince words or actions. He might even take it to mind to liquidate you as well. After all, I’m only the reporter... you’re the editor!’

  He paled at the comment and decided to move on to other matters quickly. ‘We can set you up with a special camera. It looks like a typical tie-pin and it’s very easy to operate. In addition, I think you ought to take a mini tape-recorder with you. It’s not the conversation I’m interested in but a voice-print which might be useful at a later stage. What do you think?’

  ‘If you say so. Just hope and pray they don’t search me, that’s all, otherwise I’m a dead duck. What’s the newspaper going to do with its copy of the microfilm?’

  ‘I’ll have to take it to the big banana for his decision,’ related the editor. ‘It could be dynamite!’ He almost bit his tongue for allowing his enthusiasm to erupt to the surface. ‘I’d better wait until you get back. There might be something more. Who knows? This thing gets bigger every day!’

  I nodded dolefully. ‘I must have a session with the Financial editor. If I’m going to meet a man controlling billions of U.S. dollars, I ought to know something about finance. I’m supposed to be the senior executive of a private bank, you know.’

  He puffed deeply on his cigar, polluting the atmosphere even further, and I decided it was time to leave the office to let him choke himself to death in peace. It would serve him right! Strangely enough, if anything happened to him I would miss that miserable character more than I care to think. I walked down the stairs to the Financial Department... a place rarely visited by a spendthrift like myself. I didn’t have a clue about financial matters because I always spent every penny I earned, which meant there was nothing left to invest. Nonetheless, I knew Glen Palmer and recognised him to be a man at the top of his profession. He achieved miracles with a very small staff.

  ‘What do you know about forfaiting?’ he asked casually to test my financial acumen.

  ‘Not a thing,’ I responded candidly. ‘Never even heard of the word. What the heck is forfaiting?’

  He smiled and proceeded to cover the area of finance. ‘Would I be wasting my time asking you about discounted cash-flow, off-balance sheet finance, zero-based budgeting, or ratio analysis?’

  ‘All Chinese to me!’ I replied, with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach that I was doomed to failure.

  ‘Well how about the Eurocurrency market, the commodity market, project financing, equity investment, LIFFE, or negotiable instruments?’

  ‘Glen, my old buddy,’ I laughed in reaction, to compensate for my appalling lack of knowledge. I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about! Look, I’ve got thirty minutes to get up to scratch. What can you teach me in that time?’

  It was going to be a real challenge for both of us, but I had the greatest confidence in the man as his teaching ability matched his prowess in the field of finance. He knew exactly how to treat my situation, starting off by handing me a pen and a sheet of paper. His course of action was to force me to learn numerous terms by means of mnemonics and jot them down on paper. Half an hour later, the perspiration ran from my temples down both sides of my face. I began to despair in case I lost my sanity. All kinds of letters fluttered around my brain. It was only the beginning, however, because he increased the pressure for a further thirty minutes, and I felt like sleeping for a week. I groaned inwardly as the shackl
es of responsibility of this assignment became extremely onerous! They were becoming too tight for a simple soul like myself! However, editors tended to be short on sensitivity in relation to newspaper reporters. I just had to grin and bear it! In due course, I went to lunch in the main canteen with my mind buzzing like an electric saw. I was so engrossed in Glen Palmer’s advice I hardly knew what I was eating. There were so many things to do... to know. Firstly, I had to get a tie-pin camera, and then a miniature tape-recorder. The use of such equipment was not without its problems. The administrator of expenses didn’t trust anyone... especially when it concerned useful electronic goods which could be easily borrowed and never returned. Ultimately, I had to go through the procedure of signing a number of forms to guarantee the safe return of the equipment before being allowed to borrow it. The tie-pin camera was very neat and easy to fit. The tape-recorder had to be strapped tightly to my right arm with a tiny pearl-coloured microphone fitted on to the button of my shirt. In the space of a few minutes, I was ready for action. It was no help to advise me I had to use caution. If I was discovered with this equipment, my life wouldn’t be worth a fig! Equally, if I made a serious error during the discussion on finance, Kirk would be alerted immediately.

  I drove to Epping Forest and approached the house with trepidation. Each visit here was a trial in itself and the odds were starting to stack up against me. I couldn’t continue indefinitely without ever putting a foot wrong. Today was an occasion when I could easily find myself sinking into the quicksand. There was an expert at the helm in the guise of Der Bankvorsteher. It would be impossible to fool him. In my impecunious state of life, I couldn’t even visualise what fifty billion United States dollars looked like, let alone talk about how such a fortune could be administered. So I hesitated on the threshold of the lion’s den, with my heart sounding like a steam-hammer in my ears, before making my presence known with the giant door-knocker which bore a grotesque face that seemed to mock me. My mind whirled with financial details. I could only hope I would get the mnemonics in the right order and remember what each letter or syllable represented. Kirk opened the door himself, still wearing his black uniform, and he greeted me before ushering me into the library.

  ‘I’d like you to me Der Bankvorsteher,’ he said, introducing me to a dapper middle-aged man who sat in one of the armchairs, with a hand resting on a large black leather case by his side.

  He stood up to shake hands with me, allowing a gentle smile to touch the edges of his lips, although his eyes never left mine. ‘So,’ he ventured with a cultured American drawl as he returned to his seat, ‘you’re the man I’ve heard so much about. How do you feel about assisting me in the function of my important duty?’ I was about to respond but he continued irrespectively. ‘At last I meet a banker of some repute who truly belongs to the cause. I heard a lot about you. That deal in Switzerland with three hundred million in gold. The timber forest transaction in Canada... especially with that little trick of taxation rollover. The control of monies deposited by the Jews in the early part of the war. It’s doubtful whether any of them are still alive... but you have the money. Your reputation goes before you!’

  I froze and smiled weakly. I had no idea what the newspaper had actually issued on the grapevine about me in financial circles. Clearly, they did me proud! In my haste to learn as much as possible from Glen Palmer, I had forgotten to check what I was supposed to have done in the sphere of banking through the dummy company owned by the newspaper. ‘Some of it was elementary,’ I boasted falsely, pretending to be modest. I could only hope he wasn’t trying to trip me up with some false claim to test my honesty. If that was the case, I had already fallen into the pit. ‘By the way, what do I call you?’

  ‘For our present purpose, Herr Erdbeer,’ intervened Kirk sharply, ‘it would be better to retain anonymity for a while. If you wish to be informal, why not use the name Hans. Der Bankvorsteher is a good fellow. He won’t really mind!’

  ‘If you say so,’ I agreed, trying not to show my disappointment. I had no option but to rely on the two devices I had brought with me, otherwise the identity of the man would remain a mystery. I touched my arm gently to start the miniature tape-recorder, but my courage failed me with regard to the tie-pin camera. I had an uncomfortable feeling that any action from the front would appear too obvious. The last thing I wanted to do was to commit professional suicide. It was prudent to wait a little longer until everyone’s attention was diverted.

  ‘We’re here to ascertain your suitability to assist Hans,’ continued Kirk officiously. He turned to the banker. ‘But I’m in the way here. I’m sure you both prefer to continue your discussion in private. I’ll leave you to your own devices.’ He clicked his heels smartly and left the room.

  After he had gone, Hans and I stared at each other without speaking to the point of embarrassment, until I decided to break the silence. ‘I’m surprised you handle the whole fund on your own... without help from anyone else.’

  ‘Why should you think that?’ he replied. The brief smile no longer touched his lips. ‘Ah, most probably you’ve been conditioned in terms of management profit. That doesn’t apply with me. Administration is simple in general terms. The funds are deposited in various money markets, bonds, stocks and shares, and other methods throughout the world. I don’t have to be on the ball the whole time. We don’t have shareholders breathing down our necks for extra profit or dividends. There’s no Chairman leaning on me if one area makes a small loss at any point in time. The most important thing is not to draw attention to our activities, so we never manipulate markets or participate openly in take-over bids or mergers. Our main intention is to ensure our funds grow at a reasonable rate, but it must always be possible to liquidate them at a moment’s notice as the overall plan requires.’

  ‘What about the art treasures? Have all the sales been completed?

  ‘Practically. There are still a few more paintings to go. Sales had to be accomplished slowly over the years in order not to flood the market or bring attention to ourselves. Art has been a very profitable area. The longer we waited, the greater the return.’ ‘I presume you retain substantial holdings in gold in case of the collapse of currencies and stock markets.’ I was digging deep down into the depths of the instruction given to me by Glen Palmer.

  ‘Of course. That’s why no person can breath down the neck of Der Bankvorsteher. The gold price is relatively low at present but, in the event of the collapse of stock markets worldwide, it would rocket. Our plan would not be compromised by the collapse, in fact we would be that much richer.’

  ‘Do you mean you wouldn’t have to wait until Die Stunde arrived.’ I realised too late I was playing a trump card too early in the game.

  His eyelids flickered for a moment as though he didn’t expect me to have known about Die Stunde. He recovered quickly to reply to my question calmly. However, in that moment, I knew something was terribly wrong. Why shouldn’t I know about Die Stunde, Many people were aware of it. Miss Grayson, for example... and my dear departed contact, Calvin, but then he was an exceptional person dealing in information on a major scale... and me! How did Miss Grayson find out about it? Was the computer disk in her drawer given to her by someone with an elevated rank in the movement, or had she written it herself? No... what was I thinking of! She wore a Star of David. A Jewish person wouldn’t join the ranks of the Nazis, would they? Not after the trauma of Belsen, Dachau, Auschwitz and numerous other concentration camps! She couldn’t possibly have switched sides! Then the scales fell from my eyes and I realised what a fool I’d been. I had been treating everyone in this assignment like normal human-beings. The concept was counter to the name of the game... especially with the assassinations and attempted killings! Most of them were agents, double agents, spies and international crooks, more cunning than foxes; more devious than Machiavelli! Anyone could buy a Star of David from a jewellery shop. It didn’t prove one was Jewish! Miss Grayson k
new that one day some astute person would invade her privacy somewhere along the line to determine her identity. She had to be prepared for it and made certain of her cover by having a photograph taken of her with a Star of David round her neck to throw pursuers off the scent. It was cleverly done to hide the photograph in a locket. In my opinion, Miss Grayson was probably a descendant of a Nazi officer. I was more concerned she had managed to stand by the side of the Prime Minister without being detected. It was amazing that a mere hesitation by Der Bankvorsteher relating to Die Stunde had placed another piece of the jig-saw puzzle into position.

  ‘Die Stunde is the benchmark,’ he drawled, staring directly into my eyes. ‘No one can bring the benchmark forward!’

  I laughed easily, feeling completely the opposite inside. ‘Forgive my foolishness. One becomes over-anxious sometimes to move the plan forward.’

  He nodded casually with the lines in his face creasing deeply. ‘I like a man with character... someone willing to admit to foolishness. Let’s face it, we all show human weaknesses and failure at one time or another. You must tell me about the deal you made with that German chemical giant... the one involving six different currencies.’

  The wheels of my mind began to grind into motion and my poker brain recognised the request had been baited like a gin-trap. If I answered affirmatively, I would be unmasked as an imposter immediately. ‘I fear you’re confusing me with another banker,’ I told him point-blank. If I got it right, my riposte would be solid. If I got it wrong, I would subside quickly but courageously.

  He stared at me for a few moment while I hung in space, and the smile returned to his face. Fortunately, I had gambled correctly. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘I must be confusing you with someone else.’

  ‘May I ask you some questions about the funds in particular?’ I asked, ignoring his feeble excuse which was obviously false. ‘Would you tell me more about the distribution of the funds?’