Julia
Page 12
*
Hugh lifted his head up from his paper-strewn desk when he heard the knock on the door. “Yes?”
Mrs. Willow appeared, her head just inside the door, the bravest position she could muster. She said, her voice barely audible, “Mr. Kurt Walther is here to see you, Mr. Stuart. He said you expected him.”
Hugh nodded. “Yes, I’m waiting for him. Bring him up here. And that will be all. He won’t be staying long. Just leave the door open and show him where to go.”
In a few moments, Kurt Walther walked in the door and strode confidently up to Hugh’s desk. His dark brown hair was combed straight back from his face, and the large wrinkles on either side of his mouth made him appear in a permanent scowl. He held up his black leather briefcase, took out a check, and handed it to Hugh.
Hugh looked at the check, turned his head up to Kurt and nodded, then put the check on his desk. Kurt stood still.
Hugh said, without looking up, “That’s all,” as he put his finger on a piece of paper on his desk.
Kurt Walther pivoted and left the room.
Hugh picked up the phone and dialed. He waited. Then, “Yes, this is Hugh Stuart. Would you please inform Hans Seifert that I will be there in half an hour? He is expecting me.”
“Of course, Mr. Stuart,” said the heavily-accented voice. “We know you are coming. Thank you for your information.”
Hugh frowned. “All right. Good-by.” He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply, and then called Gibbons to bring the car around. He put the check in his inside coat pocket and walked down and out to the street. “Nassau and Wall, Timothy.”
When they arrived, Hugh got out of the car and told Timothy to wait in the underground parking until a messenger came for him. With that, Hugh walked in the ornate building, with complex wrought-iron railings on the balcony in front of every window. He went up the marble steps to the second floor offices of Zurich International Bank, where he announced his appointment to the young receptionist with short curly blond hair, who showed him into a large conference room and pulled out a black leather chair for him. The long rosewood table drew the eye to the far wall with its huge color photograph of the Matterhorn. The other walls displayed photographs of skiers, picturesque towns, and trains chugging up the Alps.
“Would you like coffee, Sir?” she said, her voice cool and courteous. ”Actually we have some rather excellent Black Forest cake today. May I offer you a piece?”
Hugh put his briefcase on the table and shook his head.
The woman adopted Hugh’s perfunctory attitude. “Very well, Sir. Herr Seifert will be with you in just one moment.” She walked with brisk steps out of the room.
Hugh removed his check from the briefcase and put it on the table and aligned it square before him. He heard the door open behind him, and turned to see a tall man wearing a black double-breasted suit, with white shirt and black tie. The man peered out from black glasses, his blond hair a perfect crew cut.
The man smiled and put out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Stuart, I’m Hans Seifert.”
Behind Hans Seifert came two other men, each carrying large folders of papers.
“May I introduce Hermann Eisner and Rudolph Felber?”
The two men bowed formally to Hugh, and then all three sat opposite him.
“We understand you are prepared to purchase gold on the open market. That is what we learned from Mr. Bollinger. For five million dollars.” He waited for Hugh’s answer.
“Exactly. I have, as you see the check in front of me.” Hugh moved the check an inch.
Seifert looked first at his colleagues before replying. “Let me first say, Mr. Stuart, that we at Zurich International Bank are very pleased that you have sought our bank to help you with this transaction. We believe we will be able to meet your requirements.”
Hugh was puzzled by all this formal vocabulary. But, then, he understood these were Swiss bankers. “My requirements, as you put it, are to purchase gold. I can give you my check today. So, gentlemen, I believe the question is only as to how we can proceed.”
Seifert nodded. “The first question we must resolve is then how you wished to take ownership of the gold.”
Hugh frowned. “Ownership? I don’t understand.”
“You have two choices. You may purchase gold bullion, that is, actual bricks of gold, which will remain in the vault as your property.”
“But I-“
Hans raised his index finger and continued. “The other option that is available to you is to make a bulk purchase of gold. You receive a certificate of ownership of gold in the value of five million dollars. But you do not have title to any specific gold bullion.”
Hugh thought for a moment. “I see the difference between bullion and certificates, of course. But what the difference means to me, I don’t see.”
“So, the difference is this, Mr. Stuart. If you purchase gold bullion, you pay the money and you receive the number of bricks of gold according to the price. If the price of gold goes up, the value of your gold goes up with it. And vice versa. I assume you are purchasing the gold on your own behalf?”
“Yes, I am.”
“It is, certainly, not our position to question what you intend to do with the gold, but you understand that there are many documents which must be completed for an international transaction.”
“Of course,” Hugh said, with some impatience. “But you have not told me about the gold certificates.”
“Yes, yes, how careless of me. Okay, so the difference is this. The gold certificate is for a monetary amount. At the time of purchase, you are entitled to a certain amount of bold bullion. And the value of your gold always remains the same. It does not go up or down. If the value of gold goes up, then you are entitled to a lesser amount of bullion. And, once again, vice versa. This is useful for those who wish to hedge their risk. Gold bullion is for those who are willing to accept more risk in order to make a profit.”
“I understand,” Hugh said. “So I tell you I don’t want to buy certificates, I want to buy real gold bullion.”
“Thank you for that clarification, Mr. Stuart. That makes our procedure straightforward.” He gave a little laugh. “Excuse me, an international transaction in these times is never simple, but now we know the direction our efforts will take.”
“And that is-“
“Well, there are import-export documents to complete. I believe you have not done this before, is that correct?”
“No I have not. I am doing this for the first time.”
“Understood. We will not need your check today. We must complete our transfer and other international documents with Zurich first. When we have identified exactly where the bullion is located, that is, the vault where it lies, et cetera, then we will communicate with you as to the next steps.”
“How long with this take?”
“I shouldn’t think it would be more than a week.”
“And then, after that, how long before I receive the gold?”
Seifert looked once again at the two quiet men next to him. “Mr. Stuart, you cannot take possession of the gold here. It must remain in the vault in Switzerland.”
Stuart cocked his head.
Seifert stared at Hugh several moments, and then continued. “I am sorry to disappoint you. I see it is another sign that you do not have experience in these transactions. We cannot transport the gold here. It is absolutely out of the question. And I will tell you that you cannot find another Swiss banker to do it. Or any other banker, for that matter. Go to Rothschild even, or whichever, they will not do it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Mr. Stuart, have you heard of U-boats?”
“U-boats? You mean German submarines? Of course I have heard of them.”
“Then you understand the reason why we cannot ship gold across the Atlantic. We could not even get insurance for such a voyage. Not when U-boats have sunk nearly one hundred merchant ships. If that is your requirement, you will be severely
disappointed.”
“But the British have shipped tons of gold bullion to Canada for safekeeping.”
“Oh, Sir, those are unsubstantiated rumors, nothing more.” Seifert leaned across the table. “And even if they are true, the gold was guarded by large elements of the British and Canadian navies. I don’t think you have a battleship at your disposal, do you? And correct me if I am wrong, but I doubt you can persuade the United States Navy to do it for you.”
Hugh sighed and folded his hands on the table. “I do understand, believe me. I see my position. But, then, why do you believe my gold will be safe in Switzerland?”
Seifert laughed. “Mr. Stuart, the Swiss Federation has stood independent for a thousand years. Even Napoleon Bonaparte did not try to conquer our great confederations in the Swiss Alps. And now this little corporal and his beer hall Nazi party are not going to threaten Switzerland. When war breaks out, they will need us.”
“Germany will need you?”
“Of course. They will be at war with France, Poland, and England, who knows. And just as they did in World War I, they will need Switzerland to deal with the outside world, including their enemy.” Once again that sidelong glance at his partners. “We have gold now for the very reason that others, across Europe, especially in Poland and France are selling their gold to us. Still others are buying gold. It is all about Swiss gold now. And you know this too, Mr. Stuart. That’s why you want gold bullion, because you hope that the value of gold will go up substantially when war breaks out. Do you think you are the only person doing this? Did you think we have been ringing cowbells in the alpine pasture until you came along?”
Hugh recognized the defensiveness. “Mr. Seifert, please believe me, I do not wish to argue history with you. I merely hope you understand my concerns.”
“Oh, certainly, yes, we do. There is no question of that. But now you must make a decision. We will go ahead and make the necessary inquiries in Zurich so that we can have your documentation available to you. If you choose to withdraw from the transaction, it does not matter to us. Perhaps you will even feel better if you go to another bank, and see what answer you receive.”
Hugh stood and held out his hand. “No, I do not wish to go to another bank. Luther Bollinger has complete confidence in you, and so do I. I will await further word from you. But, make no mistake, I wish to proceed.” After shaking hands, Hugh left the building, sought out Gibbons, and went home.