The Ringmaster

by Morris West

  While the first tentative conversations were beginning, I tried to work out the pattern of Carl Leibig’s strategy. The banker was the first essential element. Money talked all languages, and had no smell at all. What was significant was the choice of the Swiss and the Japanese to launch the syndicate, instead of the British or the Americans. In the sacred world of money the position on the ‘tombstone’, the advertisement of the underwriting group, was like the orb and sceptre, an unmistakable symbol of primacy. Certain great houses used to make it a rule that they would not participate unless they headed the tombstone list. The choice of a Finnish engineer also made sense in a certain historic context – the old Hanseatic League, and the post-war working relationship between the Finns and the Russians. The Finns knew how the Soviet system worked. They knew all its defects, they had learned how to work them to their own advantage.

  The wild card in the pack was Professor Marta Boysen, late of the World Health Organisation. I could understand the value of her specialist information. I could not see why, at so early a stage, she had been co-opted into this group of hard-nosed financial manipulators, intent on colonising the old Marxist empire with Western capitalists. At that moment, she was standing opposite me making animated talk with Sir Pavel Laszlo, known in both hemispheres as a connoisseur of pretty women. I judged her to be about the same age as Carl Leibig, mid-to late-thirties perhaps, but beautifully kept and groomed with expensive discretion. No dowdy bluestocking this one. She had a thoroughbred’s body, a classic bone structure in the face, a complexion as clear as fine porcelain, deep blue eyes and corn-gold hair caught back in a ponytail, held with a black butterfly bow. She wore no wedding band, but her rings and her bracelet and the sunburst brooch on her lapel were all fine Italianate work. And if you want to know how a bookish fellow like me, past his prime and too long a widower, could see so much so quickly, the credit goes to my scholarly father, who taught me very early to recognise good lines in a woman and a craftsman’s skill in art.

  Unfortunately, I was buttonholed by the Finn, who had been briefed to test me in his native language. I had to remind myself that this was the penalty of all polyglots. People regarded them as a kind of circus act, like a singing dog or a counting horse. In the mid-nineteenth century every scholar and pedant and tourist snob in Europe felt obliged to seek out the ageing Cardinal Mezzofanti to test him in Coptic or Urdu or some obscure Uralian dialect. According to his biographer, the old man was always willing to oblige, as an act of Christian charity to the ungodly. I was not so agreeable; I was being paid handsomely to be polite and to indulge my lecheries, if any, in private.

  Promptly at one o’clock, luncheon was announced. If you are expecting me to describe some kind of banquet, an opulent gesture from the Nordic knight to his band of adventurers, forget it! This was strictly a working meal, Tokyo style. The table was laid on three sides only, so that all the guests had a full view of the large computer display screen against the wall. The food was a standard Japanese boxed lunch brought in from a nearby restaurant, laid on a tray in front of each guest. No liquor was served, only tea or mineral water. We were not there to be seduced into a deal, but set to work by our young leader. Only Laszlo had the gall to comment on the Spartan arrangements.

  ‘You give me great confidence Carl. You’re never going to send us broke with entertainment bills!’

  Leibig had the good grace to blush. ‘If the food is not to your liking, we can always send out for something else. Personally I find I cannot work efficiently after a big midday meal.’

  ‘Oh, it wasn’t a complaint.’ Laszlo was as bland as honey. ‘Just a comment. Of course we’ll have to do things more stylishly in Bangkok where we’re actually soliciting business.’

  ‘You may be sure that we will, Sir Pavel.’

  Leibig dismissed the subject and waved us to our places. I was seated with Marta Boysen on my right and Forster the Swiss banker on my left. He put the question which I had hesitated to ask.

  ‘So, Professor Boysen, what precisely is your role in the Leibig enterprise?’

  ‘In the most precise terms, my dear Doctor,’ her smile was sunny and guileless, ‘my role is a negative one: to ensure that funds and effort are not wasted on avoidable mistakes. Example: you will remember that some time ago powdered milk and condensed milk were sent to depressed areas in India as part of a relief operation. One of your biggest Swiss companies was involved. What was intended as a gift of life became a lethal weapon. Peasant women mixed the tinned milk with polluted water and fed it to their babies who promptly died of enteric infections. That’s an extreme case. Here, however, we are talking of a commercial enterprise to supply the dietary needs of three hundred million people across a huge continent. Always it is the women who buy and prepare the food; it is to their requirements that we must first address ourselves. Our engineer friend from Finland has devised a system – a very efficient system, by the way – for the robotic butchering of cattle and sheep and the packing of meat into household portions. Immediate questions arise. How will the housewife recognise the unfamiliar portions? How will they fit her family circumstances and her budget? How will she cook them? How will she preserve them in a country where there are few domestic deep freeze units, and small practice in their economic use? How long will it take, how much will it cost, to change domestic conditions, eating habits, culinary skills, in so many ethnic enclaves? That was the thrust of my work at the Food and Agriculture Organisation. That’s why Carl Leibig invited me to join you.’

  Doctor Rudi Forster took a little time to digest the idea. Then he delivered his verdict.

  ‘It seems, then, we may all be taking too simple a view of a very fragmented question.’

  From the other end of the table Carl Leibig intervened curtly. ‘We are dealing first with major pilot projects in areas of high-density population. In other words, with large and reasonably homogeneous consumer needs. It is our own fault if we let the project fragment itself. Nobody in any country has yet devised a safety net for every single citizen or even every minority group.’

  Forster was not so easily mollified. ‘Even so, Carl, every distortion of the pattern increases the financial risk.’

  ‘This is risk banking, Rudi. That’s why you get over-riders on your fees and commissions. But,’ he spread his hands in a gesture of resignation, ‘if you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.’

  ‘And talking of risks,’ Laszlo gave everyone his best Hungarian smile, ‘remember the basis of the deal will be the issue of sovereign bonds by the Soviets. That’s a long way more secure than much of the Wall Street junk paper that’s been circulating lately.’

  ‘That’s a presumption we can’t make yet.’ Forster was on the attack now. ‘All the Soviet Republics are moving fast towards independence or, at least, towards a very loose Federation. So who’s going to be issuing the bonds? The union itself or individual republics? And what’s going to be the differential between the credit ratings of the Russ, the Kazaks, the Uzbeks, the Mongols?’

  ‘There is a very simple answer to that question,’ said Leibig. ‘But I should like to hear our mediator respond to it.’

  ‘In what language Carl? You’re conducting the examination.’

  That raised a laugh around the table; but Leibig was a fast learner. He apologised instantly.

  ‘Forgive me. I did not mean to sound peremptory. Since we are all speaking German perhaps you would be good enough to respond in that language.’

  ‘Very well. The position paper which I have read indicates that your financing will be backed by what you call three acceptable elements: sovereign bonds, equity participation in each individual enterprise, barter arrangements involving certain key commodities – timber, minerals, natural gas, chemicals and so on. My guess is that the Soviet offer will be sound enough, but that you will have to face certain shortfalls and extensions of time while they organise themselves. Until they present their counter-offer in Bangkok there’s not much more you ca
n do. It’s a waiting game.’

  ‘Thank you, Gil. My own answer to Doctor Forster would have been exactly the same.’

  ‘Then why waste time needling the man.’ Laszlo was suddenly testy. ‘We’re all adults here. Let’s get down to business.’

  ‘By all means. I invite your attention to the display screen. The diagrams you will see are an attempt to simplify the outline plan and to test it in open discussions with our mediator present.’

  ‘One question before we start, Carl. Has Tanaka seen the diagrams?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Any reason?’

  ‘We may decide after our discussions that they need refining. Objections?’

  ‘None, only a caution. My job is to find the common ground between all parties, to serve as best I can their common interest. I’m your counsellor, not your servant. If you’re wise you’ll give me all the relevant facts. If there’s something you don’t want to disclose, then say so. But never, never try to mislead me. If that happens, I’m out. I hope that’s clear to everyone.’

  There was a brief murmur of assent, then Leibig punched up the first image on the screen. It was a map of the world, compressed into an elongated oval like a football, with the Eurasian continent as the centrepiece and the eastern and western coasts of the Americas at either end, separated from Eurasia by the Atlantic and the Pacific oceans. Carl Leibig’s voice delivered the commentary.

  ‘Geography, my friends! The prime determinant of our destiny. Do we freeze on the tundra? Do we die of hunger and thirst in the desert? Do we grow fat in the fertile plains, the envy and ultimately the prey of the less fortunate? Modern communications modify the effect of geography. They do not change its essential influence. Focus now on the Eurasian landmass itself…

  The following frames showed the full stretch of Eurasia from the British Isles to the Bering Sea. The divisions of the landmass were shown not as borders, but as economic groupings: the European Community, Central Europe, the Baltic States, the various productive blocs within the Soviet Union itself, China, India, the oil basins of the Middle East; and Japan itself, linked to its trading partners in the South Pacific and South-East Asia in the modern version of the old Greater South-East Asia Co-prosperity Sphere. Leibig’s commentary continued.

  ‘In the West, Germany is the natural land bridge, the natural route of trade and culture between the European Community, Central Europe and Russia itself. Our newly united Germany is the focus around which the old elements of the Austro-Hungarian empire will coalesce for mutual trade and tourism. They will solve their tribal problems in their own way; but for commerce they will constitute a highly flexible unity with reunited Germany.’

  Suddenly it hit me. I had heard all this before. I had seen the maps, too, a long time ago, in a whole series of variations. I was still trying to pinpoint the reference when Professor Marta Boysen passed me a note scrawled on her napkin. ‘You and I must talk about this later…M. B.’ I crumpled the note and shoved it into my pocket, then reached out to touch her hand in acknowledgment. Her answering smile gave me an absurd boyish pleasure. Now the screen was illustrating the distribution of Soviet prime resources and the sorry state of their rundown industries. Carl Leibig was waxing eloquent.

  ‘The Russians have discovered, as the Romans and the British and the Spaniards and, indeed, we Germans discovered, that the cost of empire is ruinous. The cost of disengagement will also be high; but if it succeeds without violence, the rewards will be enormous. Trade with Eastern Europe will no longer be a barter of junk for junk but an exchange of needed goods for negotiable currency. The economies of Middle Europe will revive, as they have already done in Hungary, as they will do in Poland, the Baltic satellites and even in Bulgaria and the Balkans. Instead of being stagnant sumps, manned by listless turnkeys, these nations will become active conduits of production, trade and hard currency tourism from the émigré communities in the United States and elsewhere. We know it can be done. We know how to do it…We are working at the express invitation of Moscow at a time when Europe is in the ascendant and the American economy is in deep recession. I submit that we simply cannot fail.’

  It was a bravura effort and it should have earned him some polite applause; instead the group went to work on him with hatchets. Rudi Forster led the attack.

  ‘I think the diagrams should not be displayed and this kind of speech should not be delivered in public. Together they give a political colour to what should be a pragmatic business proposition.’

  ‘I’d put it even more strongly,’ Laszlo was clearly angered. ‘You made my flesh crawl, Carl, with all this claptrap about Western and Middle Europe and the old Austro-Hungarian Empire. Of course there are common threads of interest. There are also deep wells of shared hatred which you would do well to remember every day! You yourself didn’t create the hatred but, by God, you’d better be aware that it exists and festers. We’re setting out to do business, big business, we hope. We’ll have enough opposition in the normal course of affairs. Let’s not make any more by trying to rewrite history.’

  Leino, the Finn, was equally emphatic. Those charts and that sort of rhetoric will make you a lot of enemies in the United States and in England, not to mention France. Like it or not, we’re going to need their co-operation and very probably their investment. Besides, Germany is herself a member of the EC. You have to bend over backwards not to give offence. Another thing. Your Japanese partners are not going to thank you for reminding the Chinese and the Koreans and the Filipinos about the kind of co-prosperity they enjoyed under the Japanese army. I’m surprised to find you so naive, Carl. I’d certainly like to hear Mr Langton’s opinion.’

  There was no way in the world I could duck the issue. I tried to be very calm and polite. ‘I understand what you are saying, Carl. It may in fact be a very natural development; but if I were a Soviet negotiator I would read your intention as an attempt at economic encirclement by Germany and Japan – the old Berlin/Tokyo Axis in fact. Who prepared that presentation, Carl?’

  ‘I myself prepared the outline. The detailed work and the charts were prepared by our advertising agents in Hamburg. They are reputable, very skilful people.’

  ‘They made a hell of a mistake this time. Where did they dig up the charts and the maps?’

  ‘I presume they designed them in their own studios, to meet the specifications I had laid down.’

  ‘More accurately’ said Professor Marta Boysen quietly, ‘they redesigned them. They are based on the works of Major-General Professor Dr Karl Haushofer, formerly professor of geography and military science at the University of Munich. He was introduced by Rudolf Hess to Adolf Hitler for whom, according to reliable report, he wrote the famous chapter sixteen of Mein Kampf, the one which deals with lebensraum: living space for the German people.’

  Carl Leibig was suddenly pale as death. He seemed to be choking on the words. ‘I did not know that. Truly, I did not know it.’

  ‘You know now,’ said Sir Pavel Laszlo firmly. ‘The matter has been dealt with in club. No damage has been done outside. My motion is that you wipe all this stuff out of the computer and confine yourself to the brief we have all agreed – no rhetoric, no public statements unless they be cleared by Gil here. All in favour?’

  All hands were raised around the table. Then Laszlo, oldest and canniest of us all, got Leibig off the hook. ‘Don’t fret about it, Carl. We all make asses of ourselves. We’re lucky if it happens among friends. Now, I for one could use a stiff drink.’

  While the drinks were being poured, Carl Leibig cornered me and asked with a certain desperation.

  ‘Are you going to report this to Tanaka?’

  ‘He’ll ask me about the meeting. I’ll have to respond. Why don’t you call him first?’

  ‘What do I tell him?’

  ‘The truth. You made a presentation. It was not well received. It was decided to rest on the original text. When he questions me I’ll confirm that. I’m sure Laszlo will offer the sam
e report.’

  ‘You mean he’ll be communicating directly with Tanaka?’

  ‘Come on, Carl! What’s got into you? Tanaka and Laszlo are in contact every month of every year. They have big tourist investments together in Australia – hotels, golf courses, reef islands. But they are in the club, your club! They’re not going to sell you down the river. But for God’s sake take note of the advice you got here today.’

  ‘I will, believe me. Excuse me, I must talk to Forster and Laszlo.’

  The moment he left, Professor Marta Boysen was at my side. She wasted no time in small talk but asked ‘Will you take me to dinner tonight? We must talk.’

  ‘I’d be delighted. Where are you staying?’

  ‘At the Okura hotel.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up at seven.’

  ‘Thank you. I may have a surprise for you.’

  ‘A pleasant one, I hope.’

  I’m not sure. You have disappointed me, Mr Langton.’

  ‘How? Why?’

  ‘I’ll tell you at dinner. I must go now. Sir Pavel has offered me a lift back to the hotel.’

  As always, the old rogue had the last word. We were walking through the rock-garden and down the alley to the street when he drew me aside from the group and murmured a piece of advice in Hungarian.

  ‘That’s a bright woman, Gil. If I were staying here I’d whip her away from under your nose. But I’m leaving tonight, so she’s all yours – if you can catch her!’

  ‘Go to hell, you old goat!’

  ‘Another thing, more important. Did you believe Carl’s protestations of innocence?’

  ‘Not a word of them. He was frightened, yes, but only because he misjudged the mind of the meeting. If you want the truth, I don’t like the man. I think he’s arrogant and politically naive. That’s a dangerous combination. I’m thinking seriously of bowing out.’