Crude Deception

by Gordon Zuckerman

  Ignoring the curious crowd, their protective guard, a cloud of escaping steam, and the noise and commotion of the departing train on the other side of the platform, Claudine and Jacques were lost in each other’s arms. Wrapped together, engaged in a long passionate kiss, and enjoying the physical sense of being together, they were oblivious to what was going on around them.

  Finally, as the intensity of their mood began to fade, they turned and, in the protection of their plainclothes police escort, proceeded to walk along the platform toward the depot and the waiting Roth family limousine.

  The long black car with opaque windows immediately pulled away from the curb, proceeded two blocks, turned right into a covered parking lot, and emerged from the other side as part of a three-car caravan of identical limousines.

  An hour later, the three cars passed through the gates of the Roths’ country estate. The two guards closed the heavy wrought-iron gates and reassumed their positions in front of the facing gatehouses. Twenty minutes later, a nondescript car carrying the couple’s luggage passed through the gate.

  That evening, as they waited for Claudine and Madame Roth, Jacques and his father were standing in front of the big fireplace, in the soft light of a mellow fire. They were enjoying a glass of champagne. The conversation was light and casual, until Pierre Roth brought up the subject of his son’s safety.

  “One of the drivers thought he spotted a car following you,” he said. “He called in to report it. When you passed through that last little village earlier today, the local police were waiting to intercept the car he described. It would appear you and Claudine were their targets of interest. It may be that Samson has European teams assigned to capture you.”

  At that moment, the ladies walked through the large double doors leading into the study. “No more of that serious talk, Pierre,” scolded his wife. “Claudine and I have decided you stuffy old men are going to pay attention and talk to us this evening, right, Claudine?” Elaine flashed her most conspiratorial wink at her daughter-in-law.

  Once the butler had refilled their glasses a second time, Pierre proposed a toast. “Until the recent ABA meeting in New York, the last time I saw you two was the summer of 1940,” he said. “Even then your mother and I could see how attracted you were to each other. The next thing we know, five years later, we receive a letter from Sun Valley telling us you are married, and now, here you are. Please accept our belated congratulations! And I assume you won’t mind filling us in on some of the blanks!”

  Jacques’s parents were eager to become better acquainted with their daughter-in-law. Despite the busy schedule of business events planned for each day, they faithfully observed daily rituals: an early morning walk, breakfast on the veranda, the evening cocktail hour, dinner, and an after-dinner cognac in front of the gentle flames in the big fireplace in the library. Each evening when Claudine and Elaine entered the library, they would find Pierre and Jacques engaged in deep conversation. Each time, Madame Roth would say, “What could be they be discussing that’s more interesting than talking to us?”

  One night just before they fell asleep, Elaine asked her husband, “What has happened to the free-spirited soccer player who left our home in 1935? I hardly recognize this exciting, serious, and committed leader we call our son! Could Claudine’s influence account for so much change?”

  Toward the end of the week, Claudine and Jacques were having a private conversation with Pierre. He was talking. “There is no doubt in my mind that developing a reliable supply of affordable oil has to be one of France’s and Europe’s highest priorities. A significant amount of American aid is being used to purchase oil from the Oil Club companies at very high prices, well above published market rates. These artificially high prices are absorbing money that could be put to much better use in rebuilding Europe’s industrial capacity.

  “Don’t misunderstand what I am saying,” Pierre continued. “It’s not that we don’t appreciate the aid and the supply of oil; our problem is one of growing resentment. We don’t understand why the American government is allowing this kind of gouging to take place. The British and American oil companies are the only game in town, and it’s becoming obvious that they move together, with full support of their governments and certain large Wall Street firms.

  “There are some of us who are questioning whether we wish to become involved. Proper interfacing between the American and European industrial and financial communities could become a very serious problem!

  “That said, if you are expecting strong financial support from the European investment community, you must face the reality that their decision will not only be based on their perception of the quality of your plan, but also on how committed you are to becoming involved.”

  “Poppi—may I call you Poppi?” Claudine asked. “It’s important that Jacques and my efforts be viewed as the work of independent people committed to an agenda that serves the public interest, not the political and economic self-interests of either the American or European governments. Why else would Jacques have turned down a cabinet appointment from the President?“

  “What!” cried Pierre. “Jacques, you never mentioned anything about a cabinet position! What a great honor! You must have had a very good reason for turning down that offer.”

  “If Claudine and I have any hope of helping to stitch economic cooperation between the United States and Europe together,” said Jacques, “it’s important that we be perceived as independent problem solvers, committed to the task at hand, not intent on furthering the agendas of one government at the expense of the other.”

  After pausing to think, Pierre continued. “If you step back and look at what you are really attempting, you might think about how it appears from the European point of view. Almost everyone you will meet will see your proposal as the first big effort that requires a consortium of European investors to participate with the United States. If things go well, the consummation of your oil fund could create an important precedent for things to come. Failure could delay all intercontinental cooperative programs for a long time. That is a risk many of us in Europe will hesitate to take.

  “The financial leaders here in Europe are concerned about effective leadership and representation within the U.S. government and in the financial community. Fortunately or unfortunately, you two are the only ones they know who have a proven track record, and you are the only people they feel they can trust. It’s important that you understand their concerns and be prepared to listen to their suggestions.

  “I might add, if you two are expecting me and the bank to provide our complete support, I, too, will need to know your thoughts on this crucial issue.”

  Jacques and Claudine both started to speak, but Pierre put up his hand. “Maybe you should hear me out before you reply,” he said. “You and Jacques may not realize it, but the work you two have already accomplished is widely recognized and respected in the European business community. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else who commands so much respect. You’d be surprised by how many people are familiar with your previous achievements, particularly your proactive roles in solving so many major problems with such a broad and diverse number of people.”

  Now it was Jacques’s turn to talk. “Father, Claudine and I have come back to Europe to pursue our legacies of leadership and banking responsibilities, but for us to be effective we can’t be viewed as servants to the European financial community, responsible for the implementation of its national economic and political agendas.

  “Our friend Sir David Marcus is a perfect example. He felt he needed to resign his position with English Oil and learn to operate from a neutral position before he had any chance of earning the trust and respect of Middle Eastern governments.”

  “Jacques,” said his father, “no one is suggesting that you need to work for any particular bank or government. Your heritage, your future ownership of the Roth and Demaureux banks, and your knowledge of the business communities on both sides of the Atlantic already make you a
legitimate choice. While we want you to be available, there are those of us who also believe that your effectiveness will, among other things, depend upon on how well you maintain your independence and objectivity. Put yourselves in our position. When you ask us to consider making such a large commitment, why shouldn’t we expect the same from you?”

  For the remainder of the newlyweds’ visit, Pierre continued to invite his friends to the chateau to speak with his son and daughter-in-law. Each meeting was held in the privacy of Pierre’s personal library.

  Jacques had never quite understood how the chemistry between men of respect really worked. Like birds flying in formation, each of his father’s guests—future leaders, bankers, industrialists, and government officials—seemed to be communicating on the same frequency and appeared to sincerely respect the thoughts and comments of everyone else in the room. It was in this carefully staged atmosphere that Claudine and Jacques found themselves meeting with Pierre and many of the brightest minds in Europe.

  As the participants left the meetings, they were careful not to show any emotion or reveal anything about their reactions to what they had just heard. It was clear they had a lot to think about before they made a commitment.

  Within forty-eight hours after each meeting, each of Pierre’s invited guests would call Pierre to thank him for being invited to meetings of such importance and express their pleasure in meeting his charming daughter-in-law and son. They would also invariably say, one way or another, “But that is not the real reason for my call. I want to discuss the content of the meeting.”

  After listening to Jacques and Claudine describe their plan, these men seemed quite sure that it would make an important contribution to the economic future of their countries. But they had concerns; they knew that challenging the major oil companies, mobilizing the American government and the world’s financial community would be an enormous undertaking. They wondered how realistic it was to believe a small group of admittedly talented, well-connected people can perform such a massive and complicated task.

  “What happens if they fail?” the callers asked, explicitly or diplomatically. “How can we protect ourselves? Equally important, what happens if they succeed? Who can we depend upon to provide the required leadership and find solutions to the myriad problems that are bound to appear?”

  These powerful men understood that, to provide the Sentinels with the requested support, they would have to contribute a significant amount of their financial resources. They would be involved in a major banking transaction; moreover, they would be making a strategic decision. To the man, in their several ways, the callers told Henri, “We’re going to need some time.” He knew that Jacques and Claudine would have to schedule that time to explain their ideas in depth, to with the support they needed.

  Chapter 26

  ESCAPE FROM PARIS

  After a pleasant and productive week at the chateau, Jacques and Claudine knew it was time for them to leave the sanctuary of the Roth home. Their plan was to fly back to Geneva for a short visit, which would allow Jacques some time to exchange ideas with Claudine’s father. All the necessary security precautions were still in effect. The same three-limousine caravan was waiting to transport them to the airport and the waiting Demaureux plane.

  The caravan was passing through one of the many small villages that dotted their path en route to Paris’s Orly airport when their path was blocked by what appeared to be a broken-down truck. Its cargo of live chickens was scattered all over the road. There was no room to pass.

  Seated in the rear car of the caravan, Jacques and Claudine watched with concern as the two leading cars slowed to a stop. Worried about the safety of the chickens, they failed to notice the large old bus that emerged from a side street and blocked their rear path of retreat.

  Realizing the danger of their predicament, the driver of the lead limousine wasted no time. He accelerated his heavy vehicle directly into the stalled truck, hitting it hard enough to push it aside and create a pathway for the other two limousines. The second limousine drove through the mass of chickens, scattering them in all directions.

  Without any hesitation, the driver of the third car accelerated through the narrow opening and continued at top speed to cover the remaining distance to Orly airport and the safety of the Roths’ private hangar. Alerted to the problem, the crew of the Demaureux plane had the engines warmed up and ready to go. Once the car braked to a stop, Jacques and Claudine quickly moved from the limousine to the plane, their baggage was loaded, and the door was closed. Almost immediately, the plane taxied out of the hangar and down the runway and took off without further incident.

  Settled comfortably in their seats, Claudine and Jacques finally had a chance to take a deep breath and silently reflect on the series of events that had just so rapidly occurred.

  Finally, Jacques said, “Claudine, correct me if you disagree, but I believe we were just ambushed by Samson operatives. Other than trying to either kill or capture us, what purpose could they have had?”

  “That is a question to which I hope I never know the answer,” said Claudine as she peered out the window. “Wait—what’s going on, Jacques? I thought we were flying to Geneva … but this plane is headed due south.”

  “Who said anything about Geneva?” said Jacques, smiling.

  Becoming annoyed, Claudine asked, “If this plane isn’t going to Geneva, would it be too much for you to explain where we are going? I was planning to visit my father! This isn’t funny!”

  “Relax. I talked to Henri—”

  “You talked to my father, without telling me? What’s going on?”

  “Two days ago,” said Jacques. “I was concerned about the predictable nature of our using the Demaureux bank plane to fly from Paris to Geneva, so I called Henri to discuss possible alternatives. After he reminded me that both your home in Geneva and your chalet in Chamonix would be difficult to protect, he suggested we meet at a more protected and less predictable location.

  “He called your old friend, Lady Cumberledge, who from what he led me to understand is also a friend of his. After he explained his concern, she invited the three of us to be her guests at La Garoupe, and to enjoy a nice leisurely vacation on the French Riviera. He believes that even if our location is detected we can be properly protected at La Garoupe. It’s been a while since you were there, and we thought you might enjoy seeing your old friends under more pleasant circumstances. Pardon me for not telling you, but Henri and I were hoping to surprise you.”

  Claudine’s expression had softened at the news. “And to think I was hoping this was a romantic interlude that would take us back to the land of the midnight swim! I’m going to miss getting naked, diving off that rock, and later making passionate love to you on the hearth in front of that old fireplace in the chalet. Really, Jacques,” Claudine teased, “you would pass up all that just to avoid a couple of murderous Samson operatives?”

  “What do you mean the bank plane didn’t land in Geneva!” Fred Clarke, the managing partner of Samson America, screamed into the telephone.

  Trying his best to answer in a calm manner, the Samson operative responded, “At least not initially. When the plane finally arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Roth were no longer on board.”

  “Did you question the pilots? Are the Demaureux pilots still at the hangar? Did they tell you where they stopped? Did you get a look at the logs?”

  Two hours later, a thoroughly angered Fred Clarke received a call from his European counterpart. “My people tell me that the Sûreté had their people waiting near the Demaureux hangar when our agents approached the pilots. Almost as quickly as one of our operatives began to question them, the officers appeared out of nowhere and arrested our two men.”

  Sensing his frustration, Clarke asked, “They were waiting for us? Obviously this means Mr. Demaureux, his daughter, and Jacques know of our presence and are taking precautions of their own. What do you think we should do?”

  “Ten of our operatives have either be
en killed or captured. Maybe it’s time we step back and take a fresh look at our assignment. It’s becoming apparent that we aren’t just being asked to go after the Sentinels; we are being forced to challenge the British, French, and American security agencies as well. I think the time has come for us to reevaluate our assignment!”

  As she and Jacques continued their journey, Claudine began to recall the days in 1944 when Denise and her mother, Lady Cumberledge, the owners and operators of La Garoupe Estate, provided her with much-needed sanctuary from the German agents who were pursuing her. Where better to hide a tree than in a forest? Who would have thought to look for Claudine at Lady Cumberledge’s estate on the French Riviera, which after the start of the war had been commandeered as a high-profile German officers’ retreat? Claudine was pleased that this visit would give her the chance to personally thank Lady Cumberledge, her daughter Denise, and all their staff, who at great risk to themselves helped the new French maid remain safely hidden in the midst of all those German officers.

  Henri and the two ladies were waiting at the gate when Jacques and Claudine arrived at La Garoupe. In typical European fashion everyone exchanged hugs and kisses on both cheeks. Without appearing obvious, Claudine watched the exchange between her father and Lady Cumberledge. It seemed Henri held her a little longer and tighter than a friend would find necessary. He kissed her slowly, softly, and gently on both cheeks.

  “Dear friends,” began Lady Cumberledge, “first, I insist that everyone call me Margarite. And second, let’s assume that whoever may be chasing you won’t be a problem, at least not tonight. Who knows when we will have another opportunity to relax and enjoy the many special places here in Nice?”

  Chapter 27

  LA GAROUPE