by Alex Cugia
“Thanks for that advice. I’ll try not to blow the interview." He thought back to his recent briefing with Bettina and the list of questions she'd prepared. "What are you working on now yourself?”
“I’ve not had a life for weeks. Camille is going nuts. I hardly see her these days. Berlin has been the only weekend I managed to take off work this month, two months even.” He dug into his plate of salmon fusilli. “I’ve been saddled with this crazy project. Luckily Herren’s off on Monday morning next and is going to be out for most of the week so maybe I’ll get a chance to breathe.”
As Stephan was talking a tall, silver haired man, conservatively dressed in a finely tailored suit walked up behind Stephan, parting and quieting with his presence the noisy hubbub as he approached. He laid a hand on Stephan’s shoulder and as Stephan glanced up and then scrambled to his feet asked “Does your contract specify time to breathe Mr Fischer? Perhaps I should have Personnel look into that, eh?”
“Mr Herren! Is there something you need? I can be back in the office straight away if you require me.”
“I just need a brief word in a moment Mr Fischer.” Thomas began to stand and Herren turned to him courteously. “Are you a new recruit?”
“This is my very old friend Thomas Wundart, Mr Herren. He’s interviewing with us today. Perhaps later he will ... ”
“Wundart? Wundart. Hmm, an unusual name. Are you from Frankfurt?”
“His father was Albrecht Wundart.” Stephan added.
“Really? Ah, yes. I knew him well, though not socially. We’ve sat together in many meetings in the past and I was very sorry to learn of his premature death. I’m pleased to have met his son. Please give my regards to your mother. Now, will you excuse us for a moment, Mr Wundart?”
He motioned to Thomas to sit down and took Stephan away a short distance for a brief discussion then turned, waved cordially to Thomas and strode away.
“So that’s Herren!” Thomas said when Stephan returned and they resumed their meal. “He’s got a real air of authority, hasn’t he?”
“Too right. He’s very shrewd, very smart and he gets results. Sometimes he just faces people down to get his own way. Sometimes he does it in such a roundabout manner that I can’t keep up with him. I think, what’s he playing at? why is he doing that? and then the next thing I know it all falls into place, exactly as he wanted.”
“Well, I’m glad I met him. Brief though it was.”
“He’ll remember you. Make no mistake about that. Partly it’s on account of your father, of course, but if you do come here the next time you see him he’ll remember exactly who you are and where you met. Play that right and it’ll stand you in good stead.”
“I hope so. Maybe I’ll throw something into my interview later – ‘Interesting you should mention that aspect. I was discussing it with Mr Herren only today, at lunch.’” He laughed and took a sip of Riesling. “But you were about to tell me why you were so busy. Some crazy project, you said. What was that?”
Stephan looked at him for a moment, and hesitated. It was over a fortnight since he’d met the Finance Minister and it would be a relief to tell someone about it, maybe, if he was honest, even boast a little bit about how well he was getting on in his career. After all, Thomas had no links with competing banks or with the press and if he couldn’t trust his oldest friend just who could he trust?
“You absolutely must say nothing to anyone. Nothing in the interviews or anywhere else.”
Thomas nodded.
“It’s a huge loan to the Soviet Union.” Stephan smiled as he saw Thomas’s eyes widen. “I was really surprised too, but in a way it makes sense. Gorbachev’s reforms are producing great results politically but the country isn’t doing that well economically so they need to raise money abroad. The West German government is prepared to help and Deutsche Bank has been brought in to manage the deal. I was at a meeting with the Finance Minister recently when it was discussed and agreed.”
Thomas whistled and sat back.
“Whoah! That’s cool. How large?”
“It’s huge, really huge. I’m working on the first tranche and that’s likely to be around fifteen billion DM. We're underwriting that but for the later tranches, maybe coming to twice as much again, we’ll syndicate parts out to other German banks.”
“Fifteen billion! God, that is huge, isn’t it? And what, 45 in total you say. How can you take that kind of risk on a country like the USSR? What if it all goes wrong?”
Stephan looked around nervously and leaned closer to Thomas.
“Shhh! But you’re right. I raised that point myself. No bank, including ours, will give them money unless some other rated entity guarantees the loan.”
“So who’s doing that? The World Bank?”
“Not the World Bank, though that could make sense.” Stephan thought how much he missed being able to confide in someone who was at least his intellectual equal. He glanced around again and lowered his voice. “It’s actually the West German government. I’ve only been involved in discussions on the technical aspects so I’m not clear about the background details, and that’s extremely confidential anyway. All the documentation is in the hands of the Ministry of Finance and the Bundesbank and I don’t get to see it. Not even the Russians are at the meetings. You’re the first person I’ve mentioned this to. And you absolutely must, must, must, keep it completely secret.”
“But why would the German government be doing this? Isn’t that kind of odd?”
“I’ve tried asking Herren but he was always vague although he did mention similar examples. The US has been funding Israel for years, for instance, and it’s poured money into areas to buy influence or control countries to their own benefit all over the place - Nicaragua, El Salvador, funding the coup against Allende in Chile, Egypt, other places in the Middle East, working with the Brits to get rid of Mossadegh in Iran way back in the '50s, and plenty more. Maybe no one's quite as bad as the US but they're all at it, the Brits, the French, us, the USSR, most countries. The thing is, though, that West Germany and the USSR are really on opposite sides of the political spectrum even though we’re not as paranoid as the US – you’ll remember that Reagan called the USSR ‘the Empire of Evil’ a few years ago. That’s the bit I don’t really understand. Why is the government prepared to guarantee this? What's the payoff?”
“Well, Reagan always was a bit loopy about these things but even allowing for that West Germany and the USSR really are on opposite sides, as you say, economically anyway, and it does seem very odd.”
“My guess is there’s some deal going on. West Germany’s getting something in return. There’s been little bits here and there I’ve picked up, overheard, whatever. For instance, some months ago, Herren came into my office, something he rarely does, and asked me whether I knew anything about the Louisiana Purchase.”
“That was when the United States bought a large chunk of French colonial territory in eighteen something?”
“Yes, exactly. We discussed it for around ten minutes, agreeing on how intelligent Jefferson had been to buy from the French when Napoleon was at war and needed the money. What was it Rothschild used to say 'Buy on the sound of cannon, sell on the sound of trumpets.' After the Napoleonic wars the French would never have sold anyway, most likely. But think of it. Imagine a quarter of present US territory, even a bit more, right down the middle from the Canadian border to the Mexican Gulf, being French. Instead of the US we’d have had three countries there, maybe, a couple of Anglophone ones sandwiching a Francophone one.”
“Who cares about the Dakotas, Oklahoma, Montana, all that dismal lot? Nothing but grain growing prairies worked by inbreds. Oh, and a few mountains. The really important question is what about New Orleans? That music, those sounds, that jazz, the atmosphere, Mardi Gras, the food, the women, best place in the whole damn US of A!”
Stephan laughed. “Might have become even better!”
Thomas nodded, perhaps thinking of a Creole Paris. “Well, my
guess is that the Americans would have bought it, so to speak, some time later anyway, just like they did with Texas and California – bring in plenty of soldiers with plenty of fire power and make the Mexicans an offer they just couldn’t refuse!”
“Possibly, but remember that the French were US allies in the Revolution. But anyway, the point is that after this conversation, Herren asked me if there were any lessons to be learned from that event. I answered that certainly one lesson was that it paid to propose a deal when the other side is at its weakest. He agreed with me, smiled and walked back into his office. At the time I was a bit puzzled about what all of this meant, but now it’s starting to make sense.”
“Wait a minute. You’re not telling me you think West Germany has struck a deal to … ”
“Shhh. Not so loud.” Stephan admonished him, coming closer and looking around behind him.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I think. I know it sounds absurd, but that’s politics. It hasn’t changed in the last hundred years as much as we sometimes think it has. It’s only that the smoke screen has got thicker. Why do you think the East German government is tolerating all the demonstrations that are going on now against it? Only a year ago, they would have sent the tanks against the people without thinking twice. Now they’re being stopped by the Russians. And it’s only a question of time before the whole house of cards falls. Without the Russians, the DDR makes no sense whatsoever.”
“You’re right about that. But how can you be so sure of what's planned?”
“There’s something else. Something I overheard last week, waiting to see Herren. His secretary had let me through but I stopped in front of his private door because I heard him pick up the phone and realised he was talking with the Chancellor. I only heard one side, obviously, and so only snippets, but it was quite extraordinary. They were talking about the East and Herren asked Kohl whether the issue of the military bases had been solved and whether a larger amount of money would have changed matters. He said that sixty or even seventy billion could be raised if necessary. Then he made a comment that things needed to happen in East Germany first and so Kohl should wait before telling the Western European allies. That was all I heard, though. His secretary came to tell me that he was taking an important call and that I should return later.”
Thomas, his meal forgotten, had been sitting with his fork in the air, arrested on the way to his mouth. He ate the mouthful absently, leaned closer, whistled again softly, and put his fork down.
“So this huge loan has something to do with East Germany?”
“I’m certain of it. The impression I got was that Bonn will back the loan if they get Gorbachev’s support on a pan-German solution of some kind. It probably doesn’t mean reunification, but maybe a gradual liberalisation and a common economic market, something like that. German governments have been after that sort of thing since the fifties, a way to work towards the former unity. The problem has always been the USSR.”
Thomas took a gulp of his Riesling. “Incredible! So, the Berlin Purchase, eh?”
“Look, Thomas, please, please don’t breathe a word about this. If anything leaks to the press, you’ll find my balls at the boulette shop.”
Chapter 14
Tuesday October 3 1989
“SO, tell us what happened in Frankfurt yesterday. Everything. Leave nothing out, no matter how trivial you think it is. I’ll decide what’s important.”
Dieter’s voice was soft but clear in the large, empty room furnished only with a few scattered chairs and the solid table at which he was sitting. There were no windows, Thomas saw, no pictures or other decorations, and the walls looked irregular and slightly wavy, as if they were padded or insulated with some soft, grey plastic. Bettina sat in a corner, fidgeting with a pencil. Every so often she looked at Thomas as if willing him to understand something she was trying to convey.
Thomas had flown in that morning to West Berlin's airport, Tegel, from Frankfurt. As he’d entered the arrivals hall he’d noticed two men in dark glasses standing slightly to one side, watching the stream of passengers. He’d made for the exit, intending to get the airport bus to the centre and return to his apartment for a few hours before crossing to East Berlin for his meeting with Dieter late afternoon, but the men had fallen into step beside him, one on each side. The larger one had gripped his left biceps firmly and steered him to a car with darkened windows.
“Colonel Dieter would like to see you straight away, if that’s convenient.” he had said, stroking his moustache lightly on each side with his free hand as he spoke. Despite the apparent courtesy Thomas recognised it as the order it was. Ushered into the front seat he’d surreptitiously tried the handle as the driver was getting in finding, exactly as he’d expected, that he could open neither the door nor the window.
It had been a long drive and the nondescript, semi-abandoned building in East Berlin’s suburbs reminded Thomas ominously of his prison cell. Dieter had greeted him briefly then pointed to a chair and as he’d sat down the two men had taken up positions by the only door.
“Start from your arrival at the Deutsche Bank building.”
“As soon as I arrived, I met with Stephan. He showed me around the building, then we had lunch.”
“Did you visit his office?”
“No, we didn’t. That would have required extra security procedures, because it’s on the Board members’ floor. He only showed me around the other parts of the twin towers. At lunch, we discussed the people I’d be meeting for the interviews. He told me a little about what they did, and what they were likely to ask.”
As Thomas spoke, he kept looking at the faces around the room. The bigger man was again stroking his moustache and there appeared to be a slight upward curl to his lips. Dieter remained as impassive as ever. Bettina seemed to be growing more and more nervous.
“Did he say anything interesting about them?” Dieter asked nonchalantly.
“No, not really. They were all from corporate finance, and mainly worked on corporate Eurobonds for German and international clients. I can tell you later about the interviews themselves.”
Thomas had rehearsed carefully what he would say to Dieter when they met, although doing so had cost him a sleepless night. He’d worked out what to say to suggest that Stephan had been slightly indiscreet but without giving any hint of what’s he’d actually learned at lunch.
“How long was your lunch with Stephan? Did you meet anyone else in the restaurant or while you were touring the building?”
“I guess it was about forty minutes. And, no, it was just Stephan and me. He greeted some colleagues during our tour but didn’t introduce me. We reminisced a bit over lunch, school days, things like that, and then Stephan told me a little about the bank and what he was doing but said he couldn’t really go into much detail.”
“Tell us about Mr Herren. Did Stephan tell you at all what Herren was doing, or what his travel plans were, perhaps what business meetings he was attending?”
Dieter steepled his fingers, placed them on his mouth and looked steadily over them at Thomas. Thomas’s felt his heart starting to thump and he glanced away and took a couple of breaths to steady himself. Bettina caught his eye, fidgeted on her chair, screwed her eyes up suddenly and looked down at her feet. Thomas to a breath to try to calm himself.
“I tried to bring Herren up in conversation a couple of times, like we had agreed. All Stephan said was that Herren had been busy with the acquisition of a UK merchant bank, and that he kept travelling a lot. He did say he’d had a meeting recently with Chancellor Kohl but he said he didn’t know what it was about. He wouldn’t go into more details, however, and I didn’t want to make him suspicious by pressing him too much.”
“Where was Herren travelling?”
“He only mentioned that he was leaving again next Monday morning, but didn’t say where. He said he’d be away for a few days and that he, Stephan, was looking forward to a bit less pressure in the office.”
“And tha
t’s all he said.”
Thomas hesitated. “Basically, yes.”
“You’re quite sure of that, Mr Wundart? Nothing you want to add?”
“This is easier than I expected.” thought Thomas, pleased with his deception.
“Yes. There was one thing I forgot. Sorry. Stephan said that Herren had gone to Mainz suddenly last week. He said that he’d telephoned first thing in the morning to cancel a meeting and returned in the early evening, saying only that he’d gone to watch a golf match.”
As Dieter stared at him Thomas wondered if he’d gone too far with that rococo extra touch.
“Hmmm. A golf match! Really? A golf match? And I'd thought that he found golf boring, that Herren's game was tennis.” Dieter said, pronouncing the sentences slowly and carefully as if watching such an event showed Herren in a surprising but quite admirable light which he wanted to savour fully. “Well, well. It’s as I feared.” He paused for a long moment, continuing to look at Thomas. He shook his head almost imperceptibly and exhaled and Thomas was reminded suddenly of his headmaster expressing disappointment at some behaviour in which he’d been caught out. Bettina was now very still, tense, staring at the floor, refusing to meet his eye.
“Certain things just take time and learning can be a gradual process. I’m sure you’re a quick learner, though, Thomas, and our friends here may help to teach you just how useful a good memory can be. Perhaps when we return to continue this conversation you’ll have some more interesting things to tell us. Things that, on reflection, you may earlier have thought so trivial as to be scarcely worth mentioning.”
He got up from his chair and as he reached the door turned to the larger man. “Spare his face.” he said. "Come, Bettina."
