They Were Counted (85 page)

Gedeon looked at him coldly. Now, as he told the story to Fanny, Laszlo could well recall how his mouth had looked like that of a shark set in a bloodless, puffy face.

‘I’m very sorry, but no, I can’t do it! As a member of the card-room committee I have to obey the rules. No irregularities for me!’

‘I see,’ said Gyeroffy. ‘In forty-eight hours?’

‘In forty-eight hours, starting at noon today …’ Pray hurried on down the stairs.

All this Laszlo related, using as few words as possible. Then he added: ‘I came here straight from the Casino. I didn’t dare go home; my guns are there!’

Fanny had listened attentively. Then, thoughtfully, she said: ‘So we have two days to pay?’

‘But how? Where will the money come from?’ Reaching out for the crumpled note on the table, he read out his list of debts, how much he owed and to whom. ‘I could settle the Casino
account
, but that of Gida Pray, never. My credit at the
moneylenders
is exhausted: those sharks are already at my heels and
recently
they’ve been pestering me daily. There is no way, none! Now I really am finished!’

Laszlo now gave way to despair; unable any longer to control himself he sat on the bed racked with sobs. Then he buried his head on Fanny’s shoulder. Fanny stroked him gently and then pressed her body to his so that their bodies touched from her breasts to her toes, her long legs entwined with his. ‘My darling,’ she whispered, ‘my very dear darling!’

She kissed his mouth while her hands, knowing and practised, caressed his limbs until his sobbing ceased and he was overcome by desire, searching for solace in her arms. Afterwards he fell into a deep sleep. Fanny got up from the bed and sitting quietly beside him gazed down at her sleeping lover. Her eyes again narrowed to thin slits as she fingered the magnificent pearls around her neck. For a long time she sat there quite motionless, except for the little movement of her hands as she touched the five long ropes of pearls. Finally she srood up, combed her hair and dressed. Then she took note of the losses listed on the paper beside the bed. Just before leaving she went over to the writing table, found a sheet of paper and hurriedly scribbled a few words:

Returning to the bed, she placed the note beside the lamp where Laszlo was sure to see it when he woke up.

Silently she glided from the room.

 

Within twenty minutes Fanny entered the Dorottya Street shop of the well-known jeweller Bacherach, who was famous all over Europe for the beauty of his stones and the marvellous settings created in his workshops.

‘I would like to see the director!’ said Countess Beredy as she entered the showroom, which was lined by showcases of sparkling crystal filled with masterpieces of goldsmith’s handiwork and with trays of shining silverware. Through a side-door discreetly concealed by a velvet curtain from the showroom there entered a chubby little old man wearing enormous horn-rimmed spectacles on his fleshy nose. It was old Bacherach himself.

‘How can I serve your Ladyship?’ he asked, bowing
obsequiously
, for though he owned three apartment houses and
possessed
a fortune far larger than did many of his fashionable clients, it was his pride to appear before them as simply as if he were still a humble apprentice.

‘Could I speak to you in private?’ asked the countess.

‘I would take it as an honour,’ replied Bacherach, bowing again before he ushered her through the curtained door into a tiny room which was also surrounded by glass-fronted showcases. In one corner a large safe had been built into the wall and in the centre of the room was a small desk lit by a green-shaded
table-lamp
. Bacherach offered Fanny the comfortable upholstered armchair which stood by the desk and seated himself on an
upright
cane chair that was placed opposite it.

‘How can I serve your Ladyship?’ he repeated.

‘You remember my pearls? I had them re-strung here last year.’

‘Who could forget them? They are extraordinary, unique I should say. Five identical strings! Magnificent!’

‘I … I’m thinking perhaps of selling them. What do you think I might get for them, Mr Bacherach?’

‘It’s difficult to say. Of course they are extremely valuable,
exceptionally
so, but for that very reason it might not be so easy to find a buyer.
Es
wäre
Schade
zie
zu
verschleudern
– it would be a pity to throw them away. One would have to wait to find a serious buyer. Oh, they exist all right, if not here then in Paris, or
London
, or the Riviera.’

‘I have them with me. You can see them. What do you think then? How much could I get for them?’ She reached into her blouse, took out the pearls, unfastened them and placed them in the jeweller’s fat little fingers. For a moment he weighed them in his hands, shutting his eyes. Then he placed them on the green baize table top.

‘Perhaps … hm … on the international market two … two hundred and fifty thousand francs. Maybe even three hundred
wenn
ein
Amateur
sich fndet
–
if one came across a real lover of such things.’

Fanny made as if she was thinking the matter over. Then she spoke again:

‘Look, Mr Bacherach, I will leave my pearls with you until I make up my mind. You are quite right, it would be a crime to throw them away. I’d like you to keep them for me. But I do need rather a large sum of money at once, and so I wondered if maybe you could advance me something, just until a proper buyer can be found?’

Bacherach smiled discreetly and for a moment he closed his eyes again. ‘Of course, your Ladyship, everything is possible. What figure did your Ladyship have in mind?’

‘I would need eighty-six thouand crowns now.’

‘Hm … eighty-six thousand. It shall be done at once.’

‘Would it be all right – if I changed my mind – if I paid you back the money … with interest, naturally … and then we might call off the deal?’

’Quite all right,’ said the old merchant and then, rather more slowly: ‘… and how much time would your Ladyship need to, er, change her mind?’

‘Could it be four or five months?’

‘We’ll say six. In the meantime I’ll make enquiries in the
market
. If at the end of six months your Ladyship has not decided to cancel the sale I will have the right to proceed, within the price range we have already mentioned. I suggest a reserve price of twenty thousand francs if your Ladyship agrees?’

‘That will be quite satisfactory. Thank you very much. Oh! And how much interest would I owe you should I decide not to sell?’

‘Nothing at all, your Ladyship! I am only too happy to be of
service
to my clients. Would your Ladyship prefer a cheque or cash?’

‘Cash, please, Mr Bacherach. When would it be convenient for me to call for it?’

‘Your Ladyship can have it at once. I believe that quite a large sum has come in today.’

In a few moments he placed in Fanny’s hands a large wad of new thousand-crown notes. She looked down at the pearls which still lay in a glowing pile under the lamp on the table and for a moment it hurt that she had to part with them.

Pulling herself together she turned again to the jeweller and in a calm voice asked: ‘I wonder if I could telephone?’

‘Of course,’ said Bacherach, who immediately opened a small cubicle in the wall in which the telephone was kept. He then
discreetly
left the room.

When the operator answered Fanny asked for Szelepcsenyi’s number and waited until, after a few moment, she heard the voice of her old friend.

‘Carlo, is that you?’ she asked. ‘Does that little door still exist, the one onto the side-street? Yes? Then I’d like to come round now, in fifteen to twenty minutes? Would you leave it open? It would be better if I didn’t have to ring … Yes, I want to ask you something important. Thank you so much, you are a dear. In twenty minutes then, I’m coming on foot.’ Then she laughed at something Szelepcsenyi said. ‘Don’t be silly! That’s an old story!’ and replaced the receiver.

 

Szelepcsenyi’s little town house stood at the junction of Eotvos street and Szekfu street. Fanny walked past the main entrance and stopped at a little door just around the corner which yielded at once to her touch. She swiftly went inside, shut the door behind her and mounted a short stair of some ten steps. On a landing, standing in front of a tapestry that hid another doorway, Szelepcsenyi was awaiting her. Pulling back the tapestry, he opened the door and ushered Fanny into the room behind. It was the old statesman’s bedroom in the middle of which stood a huge ornate bed made by Andrea Brustolon at the end of the
seventeenth
century and bought by Szelepcsenyi in Venice during the sixties. It was hung with cut velvet of the same period, as were the walls of the room. This background suited Szelepcsenyi who, with his wide forehead, jutting chin and closely trimmed beard himself had all the air of a Renaissance tyrant. However, he did not stop there but led Fanny on into the big drawing-room beyond. This room, so much larger than one would have thought possible from looking at the elegant exterior of the house, combined the
functions
of living-room with those of art gallery and museum. The walls were covered with the best works of the modern painters whose style was then coming into vogue and the ornate console tables that lined the room were covered with rare and costly
examples
of the work of Renaissance gold and silversmiths. On one side of the room was a giant baroque fireplace made of black and orange marble, and it was in two comfortable armchairs on each side of this that Fanny and her host sat down.

‘Well, well, my little Fanion,’ he said, using his old pet-name for her. ‘And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’

Fanny sat bolt upright, clutching hard with both hands to the elegant handbag which now held all the banknotes given to her by the jeweller. She hesitated for a while before answering: ‘Someone we know lost a lot of money at the Casino last night …’ she started.

‘We needn’t enquire who, need we?’ said Szelepcsenyi to help her. ‘Go on!’

‘I have here everything that is needed to settle the debt. But, of course, I can’t do it myself. Therefore I thought that, maybe, you would do it for me? Send someone round? I don’t even know what the procedure is … but it must be settled right away.’

The old man shook his head with faint mocking disapproval. He smiled: ‘Well! Well! Well! It’s gone as far as that, has it?’

Despite herself Fanny felt herself blushing, a rare occurrence for her.

‘He gave me this money himself, this morning.’ She lied only to maintain a fiction for the sake of good form, knowing full well that Carlo would not believe a word of it. Indeed, with a smile of knowing complicity, he deftly changed direction.

‘Do you know to whom the money is owed?’

‘Of course, I’ve got it all here,’ Getting up from her seat she moved over and sat on the arm of Szelepcsenyi’s chair. From her bag she took out the banknotes and the list she had copied from Laszlo’s. ‘Here is the list. Everything’s there: names, figures, everything.’ and she brushed against him, catlike, provocative. ‘You will do it for me, my dear, won’t you? Now! It would be so sweet of you, and it’s very important to me. Straight away?’

Szelepcsenyi looked sharply up at her. It was possible, indeed probable, that Fanny was doing this without Laszlo knowing anything about it. That would certainly explain why she seemed in so much of a hurry, for then she would be able to return to him and present him with a.
fait
accompli.
He put his arms around her shoulder and pressed her gently to him.