A Dangerous Fortune (58 page)

“I can’t speak now!” Hugh said irritably.

“Very good, sir.” The butler turned away.

“No, wait a minute,” Hugh said. Mulberry knew
Hugh would be in the middle of the wedding breakfast. He was an intelligent and responsible man. He would not insist on speaking to Hugh unless something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Hugh felt a chill of fear.

“I’d better speak to him,” he said. He stood up, saying: “Please excuse me, Mother, Your Grace—something I have to attend to.”

He hurried out of the tent, across the lawn and into the house. The telephone was in his library. He picked up the instrument and said: “Hugh Pilaster speaking.”

He heard the voice of his clerk. “It’s Mulberry, sir. I’m sorry to—”

“What’s happened?”

“A telegram from New York. War has broken out in Cordova.”

“Oh, no!” It was catastrophic news for Hugh, his family and the bank. Nothing could be worse.

“Civil war, in fact,” Mulberry went on. “A rebellion. The Miranda family has attacked the capital city, Palma.”

Hugh’s heart was racing. “Any indication of how strong they are?” If the rebellion could be crushed quickly there was still hope.

“President Garcia has fled.”

“The devil he has.” That meant it was serious. He cursed Micky and Edward bitterly. “Anything else?”

“There’s another cable from our Cordova office, but it’s still being decoded.”

“Telephone to me again as soon as it’s ready.”

“Very good, sir.”

Hugh cranked the machine, got the operator, and gave the name of the stockbroker used by the bank. He waited while the man was called to the telephone. “Danby, this is Hugh Pilaster. What’s happening to Cordovan bonds?”

“We’re offering them at half par and getting no takers.”

Half price, Hugh thought. Pilasters was already bankrupt. Despair filled his heart. “What will they fall to?”

“They’ll go to zero, I should think. No one pays interest on government bonds in the middle of a civil war.”

Zero. Pilasters had just lost two and a half million pounds. There was no hope now of gradually returning the balance sheet to strength. Clutching at straws, Hugh said: “Suppose the rebels are wiped out in the next few hours—what then?”

“I shouldn’t think anyone will buy the bonds even then,” said Danby. “Investors will wait and see. At the very best it will take five or six weeks before confidence begins to return.”

“I see.” Hugh knew Danby was right. The broker was only confirming Hugh’s own instincts.

“I say, Pilaster, your bank will be all right, won’t it?” Danby said worriedly. “You must have quite a lot of these bonds. It was noised about that you hardly sold any of the Santamaria harbor issue.”

Hugh hesitated. He hated to tell lies. But the truth would destroy the bank. “We’ve got more Cordovan bonds than I’d like, Danby. But we’ve got a lot of other assets as well.”

“Good.”

“I must get back to my guests.” Hugh had no intention of going back to his guests, but he wanted to give an impression of calm. “I’m giving lunch to three hundred people—my sister got married this morning.”

“So I heard. Congratulations.”

“Good-bye.”

Before he could ask for another number, Mulberry called again. “Mr. Cunliffe from the Colonial Bank is here, sir,” he said, and Hugh could hear the panic in his voice. “He is asking for repayment of the loan.”

“Damn him,” Hugh said fervently. The Colonial had lent Pilasters a million pounds to tide them over the crisis,
but the money was repayable on demand. Cunliffe had heard the news and seen the sudden slump in Cordova bonds, and he knew Pilasters must be in trouble. Naturally he wanted to get his money out before the bank went bust.

And he was only the first. Others would be close behind. Tomorrow morning depositors would be queuing outside the doors, wanting cash. And Hugh would not be able to pay them.

“Have we got a million pounds, Mulberry?”

“No, sir.”

The weight of the world descended on Hugh’s shoulders, and he felt old. This was the end. It was the banker’s nightmare: people came for their money, and the bank did not have it. And it was happening to Hugh.

“Tell Mr. Cunliffe that you have been unable to get authorization to sign the cheque, because all the partners are at the wedding,” he said.

“Very good, Mr. Hugh.”

“And then …”

“Yes, sir?”

Hugh paused. He knew he had no choice, but still he hesitated to say the dreadful words. He shut his eyes. Better get it over with.

“And then, Mulberry, you must close the doors of the bank.”

“Oh, Mr. Hugh.”

“I’m sorry, Mulberry.”

There was an odd noise down the line, and Hugh realized that Mulberry was crying.

He put down the phone., Staring at the bookshelves of his library, he saw instead the grand facade of Pilasters Bank, and imagined the closing of the ornate iron doors. He saw passersby stop and look. Before long a crowd would gather, pointing at the closed doors and chattering excitedly. The word would go around the City faster than a fire in an oil store: Pilasters has crashed.

Pilasters has crashed.

Hugh buried his face in his hands.

2

“
WE ARE ALL
absolutely penniless,” said Hugh.

They did not understand, at first. He could tell by their faces.

They gathered in the drawing room of his house. It was a cluttered room, decorated by his wife, Nora, who loved to drape every stick of furniture with flowered fabrics and crowd every surface with ornaments. The guests had gone, at last—Hugh had not told anyone the bad news until the party was over—but the family were still in their wedding finery. Augusta sat with Edward, both of them wearing scornful, disbelieving expressions. Uncle Samuel sat next to Hugh. The other partners, Young William, Major Hartshorn and Sir Harry, stood behind a sofa on which sat their wives Beatrice, Madeleine and Clementine. Nora, flushed from lunch and champagne, sat in her usual chair beside the fire. The bride and groom, Nick and Dotty, held hands, looking frightened.

Hugh felt most sorry for the newlyweds. “Dotty’s dowry is gone, Nick. I’m afraid all our plans have come to nothing.”

Aunt Madeleine said shrilly: “You’re the Senior Partner—it must be your fault!”

She was being stupid and malicious. It was a predictable reaction, yet all the same Hugh was wounded. It was so unfair that she should blame him after he had fought so hard to prevent this.

However, William, her younger brother, corrected her with surprising sharpness. “Don’t talk rot, Madeleine,” he said. “Edward deceived us all and burdened the bank with huge amounts of Cordova bonds which are
now worthless.” Hugh was grateful to him for being honest. William went on: “The blame lies with those of us who let him become Senior Partner.” He looked at Augusta.

Nora looked bewildered. “We can’t be
penniless
,” she said.

“But we are,” Hugh said patiently. “All our money is in the bank and the bank has failed.” There was some excuse for his wife’s not understanding: she had not been born into a banking family.

Augusta stood up and went to the fireplace. Hugh wondered whether she would try to defend her son, but she was not that foolish. “Never mind whose fault it is,” she said. “We must salvage what we can. There must be quite a lot of cash in the bank still, gold and bank notes. We must get it out and hide it somewhere safe before the creditors move in. Then—”

Hugh interrupted her. “We’ll do no such thing,” he said sharply. “It’s not our money.”

“Of course it’s our money!” she cried.

“Be quiet and sit down, Augusta, or I’ll have the footmen throw you out.”

She was sufficiently surprised to shut up, but she did not sit down.

Hugh said: “There is cash at the bank, and as we have not officially been declared bankrupt, we can choose to pay some of our creditors. You’ll all have to dismiss your servants; and if you send them to the side door of the bank with a note of how much they are owed I will pay them off. You should ask all tradesmen with whom you have accounts to give you a statement, and I will see that they are paid too—but only up to today’s date: I will not pay any debts you incur from now on.”

“Who are you to tell me to dismiss my servants?” Augusta said indignantly.

Hugh was prepared to feel sympathy for their plight, even though they had brought it on themselves; but this
deliberate obtuseness was very wearying, and Hugh snapped at her: “If you don’t dismiss them they will leave anyway, because they won’t get paid. Aunt Augusta, try to understand that
you haven’t got any money
.”

“Ridiculous,” she muttered.

Nora spoke again. “I can’t dismiss our servants. It’s not possible to live in a house like this with no servants.”

“That need not trouble you,” Hugh said. “You won’t be living in a house like this. I will have to sell it. We will all have to sell our houses, furniture, works of art, wine cellars and jewelry.”

“This is absurd!” Augusta cried.

“It’s the law,” Hugh retorted. “Each partner is personally liable for all the debts of the business.”

“I’m not a partner,” said Augusta.

“But Edward is. He resigned as Senior Partner but he remained a partner, on paper. And he owns your house—Joseph left it to him.”

Nora said: “We have to live somewhere.”

“First thing tomorrow we must all look for small, cheap houses to rent. If you pick something modest our creditors will sanction it. If not you will have to choose again.”

Augusta said: “I have absolutely no intention of moving house, and that’s final. And I imagine the rest of the family feel the same.” She looked at her sister-in-law. “Madeleine?”

“Quite right, Augusta,” said Madeleine. “George and I will stay where we are. All this is foolishness. We can’t possibly be destitute.”

Hugh despised them. Even now, when their arrogance and foolishness had ruined them, they still refused to listen to reason. In the end they would have to give up their illusions. But if they tried to cling to wealth that was no longer theirs, they would destroy the family’s reputation as well as its fortune. He was determined to make them behave with scrupulous honesty, in poverty as in
wealth. It was going to be an uphill struggle but he would not give in.

Augusta turned to her daughter. “Clementine, I’m sure you and Harry will take the same view as Madeleine and George.”

Clementine said: “No, Mother.”

Augusta gasped. Hugh was equally startled. It was not like his cousin Clementine to go against her mother. At least one family member had some common sense, he thought.

Clementine said: “It was listening to you that got us all into this trouble. If we had made Hugh Senior Partner, instead of Edward, we would all still be as rich as Croesus.”

Hugh began to feel better. Some of the family understood what he had tried to do.

Clementine went on: “You were wrong, Mother, and you’ve ruined us. I’m never going to heed your advice again. Hugh was right, and we had better let him do all he can to guide us through this dreadful disaster.”

William said: “Quite right, Clementine. We should do whatever Hugh advises.”

The battle lines were drawn. On Hugh’s side were William, Samuel, and Clementine, who ruled her husband Sir Harry. They would try to behave decently and honestly. Against him were Augusta, Edward, and Madeleine, who spoke for Major Hartshorn: they would try to snatch what they could and let the family’s reputation go to hell.

Then Nora said defiantly: “You’ll have to carry me out of this house.”

There was a bitter taste in Hugh’s mouth. His own wife was joining the enemy. “You’re the only person in the room who has gone against their husband or wife,” he said sadly. “Don’t you owe me any loyalty at all?”

She tossed her head. “I didn’t marry you to live in poverty.”

“All the same you
will
leave this house,” he said grimly. He looked at the other diehards: Augusta, Edward, Madeleine and Major Hartshorn. “You will all have to give in, eventually,” he said. “If you don’t do it now, with dignity, you’ll do it later, in disgrace, with bailiffs and policemen and newspaper reporters in attendance, vilified by the gutter press and slighted by your unpaid servants.”

“We shall see about that,” said Augusta.

When they had all gone Hugh sat staring into the fire, racking his brains for some way to pay the bank’s creditors.

He was determined not to let Pilasters go into formal bankruptcy. The idea was almost too painful to contemplate. All his life he had lived under the shadow of his father’s bankruptcy. His whole career had been an attempt to prove he was not tainted. In his heart of hearts he feared that if he suffered the same fate as his father, he too might be driven to take his own life.

Pilasters was finished as a bank. It had closed its doors on its depositors, and that was the end. But in the long term it ought to be able to repay its debts, especially if the partners were scrupulous about selling all their valuable possessions.

As the afternoon faded into twilight, the outlines of a plan began to form in his mind, and he allowed himself the faintest glimmer of hope.

At six
P.M.
he went to see Ben Greenbourne.

Greenbourne was past seventy, but still fit, and he continued to run the business. He had a daughter, Kate, but Solly had been his only son; so when he retired he would have to hand over to his nephews, and he seemed reluctant to do that.

Hugh called at the mansion in Piccadilly. The house gave the impression not just of prosperity but of limitless wealth. Every clock was a jewel, every stick of furniture a
priceless antique; every panel was exquisitely carved, every carpet specially woven. Hugh was shown into the library, where gaslights blazed and a fire roared. In this room he had first learned that the boy called Bertie Greenbourne was his son.

Wondering if the books were just for show, he glanced at several while he was waiting. Some might have been chosen for their fine bindings, he thought, but others were well thumbed, and several languages were represented. Greenbourne’s learning was genuine.