The Scarletti Inheritance

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by Ludlum, Robert


  Unless there was a conspiracy.

  But of what kind? For what purpose?

  If Elizabeth Scarlatti herself were a part of it—she had to be considered in light of the magnitude of the capital—why?

  Had he misread her completely?

  It was possible.

  It was also possible that he had been right over a year ago. The Scarlatti son had not done what he had done for thrills or because he’d met unsavory friends. Not if Stockholm was pertinent.

  Glover paced the floor in front of Reynolds’s desk. ‘It’s there. Scarlett’s visa shows he entered Sweden on May tenth. The Pond memorandum is dated the fifteenth..’

  ‘I see. I can read.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Do? I can’t do a damn thing. There’s really nothing here at all. Simply a statement calling our attention to some rumors and the date of an American citizen’s entry into Sweden. What else do you see?’

  ‘Assuming there’s a basis for the rumors, the connection’s obvious and you know it as well as I do! Five will get you ten that if Pond’s last communication is right, Scarlett’s in Stockholm now.’

  ‘Assuming he’s got something to sell.’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘If I remember, somebody’s got to say something’s stolen before somebody else can yell thief! If we make accusations, all the Scarlattis have to say is they don’t know what we’re talking about and we’re strung up on a high legal tree. And they don’t even have to do that. They can simply refuse to dignify us with an answer—that’s the way the old lady would put it—and the boys on the Hill will take care of the rest—‘

  This agency—for those who know about it—is an abomination. The purpose we serve is generally at odds with a few other purposes in this town. We’re one of the checks and balances—take your choice. A lot of people in Washington would like to see us out.’

  ‘Then we’d better let the AG’s office have the information and let them draw their own conclusions. I guess that’s the only thing left.’

  Benjamin Reynolds pushed his foot against the floor and his chair swung gently around to face the window. ‘We should do that. We will if you insist on it.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ asked Glover, addressing his words to the back of his superior’s head.

  Reynolds shoved his chair around again and looked at his subordinate. ‘I think we can do the job better ourselves. Justice, Treasury, even the Bureau. They’re accountable to a dozen committees. We’re not.’

  ‘We’re extending the lines of our authority.’

  ‘I don’t think so. As long as I sit in this chair that’s pretty much my decision, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, it is. Why do you want us to take it on?’

  ‘Because there’s something diseased in all this. I saw it in the old woman’s eyes.’

  That’s hardly clear logic.’

  ‘It’s enough. I saw it.’

  ‘Ben? If anything turns up we think is beyond us, you’ll go to the attorney general?’

  ‘My word.’

  ‘You’re on. What do we do now?’

  Benjamin Reynolds rose from his chair. ‘Is Canfield still in Arizona?’

  ‘Phoenix.’

  ‘Get him here.’

  Canfield. A complicated man for a complicated assignment. Reynolds did not like him, did not completely trust him. But he would make progress faster than any of the others.

  And in the event he decided to sell out, Ben Reynolds would know it. He would spot it somehow. Canfield wasn’t that experienced.

  If that happened Reynolds would bear down on the field accountant and get to the truth of the Scarlatti business. Canfield was expendable.

  Yes, Matthew Canfield was a good choice. If he pursued the Scarlattis on Group Twenty’s terms, they could ask no more. If, on the other hand, he found different terms—terms too lucrative to refuse—he would be called in and broken.

  Destroyed. But they would know the truth.

  Ben Reynolds sat down and wondered at his own cynicism. There was no question about it. The fastest way to solve the mystery behind the Scarlattis was for Matthew Canfield to be a pawn. A pawn who trapped himself.

  The Scarletti Inheritance

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was difficult for Elizabeth to sleep. She repeatedly sat up in bed to write down whatever came into her head. She wrote down facts, conjectures, remote possibilities, even impossibilities. She drew little squares, inserted names, places, dates, and tried to match them with connecting lines. At about three in the morning, she had reduced the series of events to the following:

  April, 1925, Ulster and Janet married after only three-week engagement. Why?… Ulster and Janet sailed Cunard Line to Southampton. Reservations made by Ulster in February. How did he know?

  May to December, 1925. Approximately eight hundred thousand sent by Waterman Trust to sixteen different banks in England, France, Germany, Austria, Holland, Italy, Spain, and Algeria.

  January to March, 1926. Securities valued at approximately 270 million taken from Waterman. Forced sale equivalent between 150 and 200 million. All bills and charges in Ulster’s and Janet’s name from European accounts settled in full by February, 1926. Month of March, Ulster’s behavior considerably altered, withdrawn.

  April, 1926. Andrew born. Andrew christened. Ulster disappears.

  July, 1926. Confirmation received from fourteen European banks that all moneys withdrawn previously. Generally within four weeks of deposit. Two banks, London and The Hague, report sums of twenty-six thousand and nineteen thousand, respectively, remain on deposit.

  This was the chronological order of events relative to Ulster’s disappearance. The design was there. Premeditation of the whole sequence was apparent: the reservations made in February; the short engagement; the honeymoon tour; the constant deposits and prompt withdrawals; the removal of the securities and the final act of Ulster’s disappearance itself. From February, 1925, to April, 1926. A plan conceived for fourteen months and executed with enormous precision, even to the point of assuring pregnancy, if Janet was to be believed. Was Ulster capable of such ingenuity? Elizabeth did not know.

  She really knew very little about him and the endless reports served only to cloud his image. For the person this research analyzed was seemingly capable of nothing save self-indulgence.

  She knew there was only one place to start the search. Europe. The banks. Not all, she rationalized, but several. For regardless of the complexities of growth and the excesses of diversification, the fundamental practice of banking had remained constant since the time of the pharaohs. You put money in and you took money out. And whether for necessity or for pleasure the money withdrawn went someplace else. It was that other place, or those other places, that Elizabeth wanted to find. For it was this money, the money that Waterman Trust sent to the sixteen European banks, which would be used until such time as the securities might be sold.

  At ten minutes to nine the butler opened the front door for Waterman Trust Company’s newest second vice-president, Jefferson Cartwright. He showed Cartwright into the library where Elizabeth sat behind the desk with the inevitable cup of coffee in her hand.

  Jefferson Cartwright sat on the small chair in front of the desk aware that it flatteringly accentuated his size. He put his briefcase by his side.

  ‘Did you bring the letters?’

  ‘I have them right here, Madame Scarlatti,’ answered the banker, lifting the briefcase to his lap and opening it. ‘May I take this opportunity to thank you for your kind intercession on my behalf at the office. It certainly was most generous of you.’

  ‘Thank you. I understand you’ve been made second vice-president.’

  That’s correct ma’am, and I do believe the good word from you made it possible. I thank you again.’ He handed Elizabeth the papers.

  She took them and started scanning the top pages. They seemed to be in order. In fact, they were excellent.
/>   Cartwright spoke quietly. ‘The letters authorize you to receive all information regardin’ any transactions made by your son, Ulster Stewart Scarlett, at the various banks. Deposits, withdrawals, transferals. They request access to all safety deposit boxes where they may exist. A coverin’ letter has been sent to each bank with a photostat of your signature. I’ve signed these in my capacity as representin’ Waterman’s collective power of attorney for Mr Scarlett. By doin’ it, of course, I’ve taken a considerable risk.’

  ‘I congratulate you.’

  ‘It’s simply incredible,’ the banker said quietly. ‘Securities worth over two hundred and seventy million dollars. Missin’, unaccounted for. Just floatin’ around somewhere. Who knows where? Even the largest bankin’ syndicates have trouble raisin’ such capital. Oh, it’s a crisis, ma’am! Especially in a highly speculative market. I honestly don’t know what to do.’

  ‘It’s possible that by keeping your own counsel you’ll spend many years drawing a remarkable salary for very little effort. Conversely, it’s also possible—’

  ‘I think I know what the other possibility is,’ interrupted Jefferson Cartwright. ‘As I see it, you’re lookin’ for information connected with the disappearance of your child. You may find it, if it exists. You may not. In either case, there’re twelve months remainin’ before the first of the bonds will be missed. Twelve months. Some of us might not be on God’s good earth then. Others of us could be facin’ ruin.’

  ‘Are you forecasting my demise?’

  ‘I certainly hope not. But my own position is most delicate. I’ve violated the policies of my firm and the basic ethics of the bankin’ business. As your son’s financial adviser, the aspect of collusion will be raised—’

  ‘And you’d feel more comfortable with a settlement, is that it?’ Elizabeth put down the letters, angry with this ungrateful Southerner. ‘I bribe you and you proceed to blackmail me on the strength of my bribe. It’s clever strategy. How much?’

  ‘I’m sorry I make such a poor impression. I don’t want a settlement. That’d be demeanin’’

  ‘Then what do you want?’ Elizabeth was becoming exasperated.

  ‘I’ve prepared a statement. In triplicate. One copy for you, one for the Scarwyck Foundation, and one, of course, for my lawyer. I’d appreciate your perusin’ it for your approval.’

  Cartwright withdrew the papers from his briefcase and placed them before Elizabeth. She picked up the top copy and saw that it was a letter of agreement, addressed to the Scarwyck Foundation.

  This is to confirm an agreement between Mr Jefferson Cartwright and myself, Mrs Elizabeth Wyckham Scarlatti, in my position as chairman of the board of the Scarwyck Foundation, 525 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York.

  Whereas, Mr Cartwright has given generously of his time and professional services in my behalf and in behalf of the Scarwyck Foundation, it is agreed that he be made advisory consultant to the foundation with an annual salary of fifty thousand dollars ($50,000), said position to be held throughout his natural life. Said position to be made effective as of the above date.

  Whereas, Mr Jefferson Cartwright often has acted in my behalf and in behalf of the Scarwyck Foundation against his better judgment and in opposition to his own wishes, and,

  Whereas Mr Cartwright performed all services in the manner his client, myself, firmly believed was for the betterment of the Scarwyck Foundation, he did so without anticipating said responsibility and often without full knowledge of the transactions,

  Therefore, it is agreed that should there be at any future dates any fines, penalties, or judgments against Mr Cartwright evolving from such actions, they will be paid in full from my personal accounts.

  It should be added that no such actions are anticipated, but as the interests of the Scarwyck Foundation are international in scope, the demands excessive, and decisions often subject to my own opinion, the inclusion of such a statement is deemed proper.

  It should be noted that Mr Cartwright’s exceptional services in my behalf have been rendered in confidence during the past months, but that from this date I have no objection to his position with the Scarwyck Foundation being made public knowledge.

  There were two lines on the right for the signatures and a third line on the left for the signature of a witness. Elizabeth realized it was a professional document. It said nothing, but covered everything.

  ‘You don’t seriously expect me to sign this?’

  ‘I honestly do. You see, if you don’t, my overbearin’ sense of responsibility would make me go right to the authorities. No doubt direct to the office of the district attorney with information I believe relevant to Mr. Scarlett’s disappearance… Can you imagine the international stir that would cause? The mere fact that the celebrated Madame Scarlatti was goin’ to question the banks where her son did business—’

  ‘I’ll deny everything.’

  ‘Unfortunately, you couldn’t deny the missing securities. They don’t have to be redeemed for a year, but they are missin’.’

  Elizabeth stared at the Southerner, knowing she was beaten. She sat down and silently reached for a pen. She signed the papers as he in turn took each page and did the same.

  The Scarletti Inheritance

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elizabeth’s trunks were placed aboard the British liner Calpurnia. She had told her family that the events of the past few months had taken their toll of her patience and health and she planned an extended stay in Europe—by herself. She was sailing the next morning. Chancellor Drew agreed that a trip might be beneficial, but he strongly urged his mother to take along a companion. After all, Elizabeth was no longer young, and in her advanced years someone should accompany her. He suggested Janet.

  Elizabeth suggested that Chancellor Drew save his suggestions for the Scarwyck Foundation, but the issue of Janet had to be faced.

  She asked the girl to come to her house late in the afternoon two days before the Calpurnia sailed.

  ‘The things you tell me are hard to believe, Janet. Not so much about my son, but about you. Did you love him?’

  ‘Yes. I think so. Or perhaps I was overwhelmed by him. In the beginning there were so many people, so many places. Everything went so fast. And then I realized—slowly—that he didn’t like me. He couldn’t stand being in the same room with me. I was an irritating necessity. God! Don’t ask me why!’

  Elizabeth remembered her son’s words. ‘It’s time I was married… She’ll make me a good wife.’ Why had he said those words? Why had it been so important to him?

  ‘Was he faithful?’

  The girl threw back her head and laughed. ‘Do you know what it’s like to share your husband with—well, you’re never quite sure?’

  ‘The new psychology tells us that men often behave this way to compensate, Janet. To convince themselves that they’re—adequate.’

  ‘Wrong again, Madame Scarlatti!’ Janet emphasized Elizabeth’s name with slight contempt. ‘Your son was adequate. In the extreme. I suppose I shouldn’t say this, but we made love a great deal. The time, the place, it never mattered to Ulster. Or whether I wanted to or not. That was the last consideration. I mean I was the last consideration.’

  ‘Why did you put up with him? That’s what I find difficult to understand.’

  Janet Scarlett reached into her purse. She withdrew a pack of cigarettes and nervously lit one. ‘I’ve told you this much. Why not the rest—I was afraid.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’ve never thought it out. Why don’t we call it—appearances.’

  ‘If you don’t mind my saying so, that strikes me as foolish.’

  ‘You forget, I was the wife of the Ulster Stewart Scarlett. I’d caught him… It’s not so easy to admit that I wasn’t able to hold him any longer than a few months.’

  ‘I see your point—We both knew that a divorce on the grounds of assumed desertion would be best for you, but you’d be criticized unmercifully. It would appear to be
in the poorest taste.’

  ‘I know that. I’ve decided to wait until a year is up before I get the divorce. A year is a reasonable time. It would be understandable.’

  ‘I’m not sure that would be in your interest.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘You’d completely separate yourself and partially separate your child from the Scarlatti family. I’ll be frank with you. I don’t trust Chancellor under these circumstances.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Once you made the first move, he’d use every legal weapon available to have you declared unfit.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘He’d control both the child and the inheritance. Fortunately…’

  ‘You’re mad!’

  Elizabeth continued as if Janet had not interrupted. ‘Fortunately, Chancellor’s sense of propriety—which borders on the ridiculous—would prevent him from initiating action that might cause embarrassment. But if you provoked—No, Janet, a divorce isn’t the answer.’

  ‘Do you know what you’re saying?’

  ‘I assure you I do—If I could guarantee that I’d be alive a year from now I’d give you my blessing! I can’t do that. And without me to stop him, Chancellor would be a conniving wild animal!’

  ‘There is nothing, nothing Chancellor can do to me! Or my child!’

  ‘Please, my dear. I’m no moralist. But your behavior hasn’t been above reproach.’

  ‘I don’t have to listen to this!’ Janet rose from the sofa and opened her pocketbook, replacing the pack of cigarettes and taking out her gloves.

  ‘I’m not making judgments. You’re an intelligent girl. Whatever you do, I’m sure there are reasons… If it’s any comfort, I think you’ve spent a year in hell.’

  ‘Yes. A year in hell.’ Janet Scarlett began putting on her gloves.

  Elizabeth spoke rapidly as she crossed to her desk by the window. ‘But let’s be candid. If Ulster were here, or in evidence anywhere, an uncontested divorce could be arranged quietly, without difficulty. After all, neither is without blemish. But, as the law says, one of the parties is removed, perhaps deceased, but not legally declared dead. And there’s a child, an only child. That child is Ulster’s heir. This, Janet, is the problem.’

 

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