Iain Pears - Stone's Fall

I did not get the chance to ask. The door opened, and Rouvier came in, already wearing his winter coat and carrying his hat and gloves.

'Dear Countess, I come to take my leave of you, and to thank you once again for your hospitality,' he said as she rose from the sofa to have her hand kissed. 'Alas, I wish the conversation had been as agreeable this evening as is customary in your house.'

'I am sorry you were disappointed, Minister,' she replied. 'Can I not persuade you to stay a little longer?'

Rouvier had a look of such self-satisfaction that it was almost intolerable. 'It is very late, and I think everything that can be said, has been. More importantly, I believe I will have a busy day tomorrow. A very busy day.'

'One moment, Minister,' I said. I still did not know precisely what I was going to say but I knew that the moment he was out of the door all was lost.

'Mr . . . ?'

'Cort, sir. Henry Cort. I work for The Times newspaper.'

He looked puzzled by that, as well he might. 'What could you possibly say of interest to me?'

I was completely without emotion. The fury at Stone was so intense that I didn't even notice it; it was suffusing my being so much that it was all I was. I had a choice, and I took it fully aware of what I was doing. I can offer no excuse and no explanation which would not be false. I wanted to beat Stone, and hurt him. I wanted to show I could retrieve a situation when he had failed. Whatever the price, whatever was necessary to do it. And there was only one way. May God forgive me, I did not hesitate.

'Minister, you are a politician. You have been Prime Minister once, you may very well have the honour of that great position once more. I wish you well; I do not wish anything to stand in your way. Public spirit is a fine thing, and you have demonstrated over the years that you are a highly competent administrator.'

'Thank you, young man,' replied Rouvier, with a look of amused surprise on his face.

'Unfortunately, I will ensure that your career comes to an end unless you consider what I have to say. The Bank of France and most of the banking community of Paris desire to stave off a dreadful crisis which will plunge the whole of Europe into a terrible slump. The Bank cannot do so unless you give it permission. You will give that permission.'

'And why should I do that?' he asked in mocking astonishment.

'You want something else?'

'The evacuation of Egypt, the withdrawal of the Royal Navy from the waters off Siam, and a free hand in the Lebanon. I am afraid bankers have poor vision, and think only of money. I can see further than they. I am saving them from their small-mindedness.'

'That will not be possible.'

'In that case, we have no more to talk about.'

'I'm afraid we do,' I said. 'We must also talk about the Countess von Futak.'

Elizabeth froze. She did not move, but I could see her eyes widening, and she took up that position – unnoticeably to anyone who did not know her as well as I did – that signified tension, watchfulness. Fear. Stone did not react at all. Not yet.

Rouvier smiled. 'Ah, dear Elizabeth. I do hope you are not going to threaten to expose me. I really do not think that it would do my career any harm at all. Only the puritanical English could think of such a thing. In France we . . .'

'Yes, Yes. I know all about that. Having conquered the Countess von Futak would indeed be a fine thing. But having paid for her out of government funds is another matter. She is a very expensive woman, as Count Gurunjiev and many others will tell you. You didn't think you were the only person she was skinning, do you? Surely not, a man of the world like you? You must have realised you were only one of heaven knows how many people she – what's the word – entertains?'

He shot her a look of growing alarm. Stone still did nothing, but stood, hands in pockets, looking at Elizabeth, as he listened to my words, unable to take his eyes off her. I wanted to see the disgust and the revulsion spread into his face. He had everything. I was damned if he was going to have her as well.

Rouvier shrugged dismissively. 'A small scandal which will be forgotten if I become known as the man who restored France to pre-eminence.'

'She's not a countess, of course. You've been spending fifty thousand a month on a common streetwalker from Nancy. Didn't you realise? What you paid ten thousand a night for, any soldier on the eastern frontier who wanted her has had for a franc. She is also a murderer, wanted for the cold-blooded slaughter of a client in Lyon.'

He was pale now, but still undecided. Elizabeth was sitting with her hands in her lap, quite unmoving, her self-control still total. Except that I could feel the numbness spreading through her, the chill of despair as she heard her life, her reputation dissolving as someone she trusted – perhaps the only person she had dared to trust – tore her life to shreds. It was a numbness that was in me, as well.

'Do you know of a man called Drumont?' I said quietly.

He stared at me.

'He is a journalist; a detestable man. Twisted, violent, hateful. I must say I cannot even be in the same room as him without feeling sick. But he has extraordinary ability. He hates all Republicans, all politicians. The delight he will get from grinding you into the dust will be very great. Destroying people is more than duty for him. It is a pleasure. Can you imagine the headlines? How he will enjoy himself? How your enemies will delight in hounding you from office? France may triumph, Minister. But you will not taste any of the fruits of victory. M. Drumont will see to that.'

'There is nothing that can be discovered,' he said airily. 'Do you think I gave her receipts?'

'She keeps a diary,' I said wearily. 'It is very detailed, in every respect. And she was a foreign spy. I can prove that also. I have details of payments made to her by the German military via the Bank of Hamburg. She passed on pillow talk for whatever price she could get. You will soon be able to read about it yourself. In his paper. In a couple of days, I imagine. '

'What do you want?'

'Three million sterling. In gold bullion. To be deposited with the Bank of England immediately. You may, if you wish, make an announcement via the Bank about international responsibilities, how France has decided to act to guarantee the stability of the money markets. Say whatever you wish to gain the maximum advantage from the situation. But the money will be deposited or the diaries will be published.'

'You are asking the impossible.'

'I think not. A word to the Governor of the Bank of France next door is all that is needed.'

'You cannot possibly think I will reverse myself like that? Even to save my own skin? My reputation . . .'

'. . . Will be enhanced. You will have pulled off a masterstroke. Enhancing France's international standing with one small gesture and at no cost at all.'

'It can't be done.'

'It can be. So, what is your decision, Minister? Ridicule and possible prosecution for corruption, or a quiet but powerful reputation as the most skilful Treasury Minister the Republic has ever had?'

'I need time to reflect.'

'You don't have time. You will go next door to your colleagues and agree to the deal they have so carefully worked out. You will go now.'

He was calculating fast, not even able to look at Elizabeth, then threw down his hat and gloves and strode out of the room. I thought I had won, but wasn't sure. That was not what was on my mind in any case. I did not really care. I wanted to beat Stone, that was all, show him I was as clever as he, and take away from him something he wanted at the same time. And I didn't care how I did it.

Elizabeth sat, looking suddenly so tired, so reduced, trembling at what I had done, but unable to show any other emotion. She was in shock at the speed and ease with which I had torn her world to shreds, and trampled it into the dust. Because I had not hesitated, not tried to spare her in any way. She was merely a weapon in negotiations which I had used without hesitation. Her worst enemy had never betrayed her on such a scale. She couldn't even look at me, could not raise her eyes to look at Stone, standing still by the fireplace.