Iain Pears - Stone's Fall

Stone stroked his chin, and considered. 'That's easy enough. Bank rates will rocket, institutions will founder, savers will be ruined, companies starved of funds, trade will be crippled. The possible effects could go on and on. Impressive.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'I was talking abstractly. One cannot help but admire a fine piece of work, well executed. But, as you say, it does not matter whether this is planned or not. The question is whether anything can be done to stop it. For example, what difference will it make if Wilkinson – and through him, I presume the Bank of England, the Government and Barings – knows what is about to take place?'

'If they are prepared, they can, at least, call in all the gold they can find from the other banks. That might be enough to stop the panic growing.'

Stone shook his head. 'I very much doubt that. If you are correct, many foreign institutions in London will have their requests to withdraw bullion already written waiting to be delivered. To start the panic off with a vengeance. I mean, it is certainly worth a try, should the authorities so decide, but I doubt it will work. Hmm.'

'What?'

'I'm sorry,' he said with a faint smile. 'I was just calculating my own exposure. What a pity you did not find this out yesterday. Then I could have exited the markets in time. Now, it seems, I will have to go down with everyone else; my fate tied to the demise of that fool Revelstoke. What a very great nuisance. Still, I suppose if I order my people to sell first thing on Monday morning . . .'

'But that will merely add to the panic,' I said, incredulously.

Stone looked at me in surprise. 'Maybe so,' he said, 'but I do not see why I should be ruined because of Lord Revelstoke's overweening ambition and lack of judgement.'

I stared at him. I knew full well that Stone's gentle manner merely disguised the activities of one of the more ruthless of operators. But I never expected him to be quite so unpatriotic.

'Do not concern yourself,' he said, as though he read my thoughts. 'Self-preservation and patriotism are not entirely incompatible. I will not be ruined by this. On the other hand, I will render whatever assistance I can. I am more than aware – more than you, probably – how damaging all this might prove to be. It is not in my interest for the financial machinery of the Empire to be ruined. Quite the contrary. I depend on the markets for money, on shippers for orders, on the Government having healthy tax receipts for military commissions. And I depend on Britain's reputation to give my companies the advantage in foreign markets. For these reasons, I will help, if I can.'

He stood up. 'And we can begin by going to the offices and sending your telegram. I will have to come with you. Can you work a telegraph machine?'

I nodded. 'I think so.'

'Good. It will go to my office in London, and will then have to be delivered by hand. Do not worry yourself; Bartoli, my man there, is entirely loyal and discreet, and I will instruct him that he is to deliver it himself and speak of it to no one. He will do as he is told.'

It would have to do. We walked out and called for our coats. As we were getting ready, Elizabeth came down the stairs.

'You are going?' she asked, with evident disappointment.

'I am afraid so, Countess,' Stone replied. 'Mr Cort is a persuasive man, and I can deny him nothing, even at the cost of losing your company.'

'But you will come back?'

'I would be delighted.'

She didn't invite me, I noticed, a little annoyed at being so obviously left out. I pulled on my coat, and Stone walked out of the door. Then she took hold of my arm.

'Any news?' she said quietly.

'I need to talk to you.'

'Come back as soon as you can.'

Stone, naturally, had his own carriage; no hire cab for him. Very comfortable, well insulated from the sounds and draughts of the outside world.

'Charming woman, the Countess,' I said, for no other reason than to see how he reacted.

'She is,' he replied.

'Delightful company,' I added.

'She is.'

'And remarkably well read.'

Stone peered at me. 'Do not be nosy, Mr Cort.'

'I'm sorry,' I said, smiling at him. 'But I consider her a friend.'

'I think I might try one of these new automobiles,' he said as we clopped along. 'Have you ever been in one?'

I gave up, and shook my head.

'They smell, they are slow and they are unreliable,' he went on. 'I believe they may have a great future. It is shameful that our Government has thrown away any possibility of Britain being a leading manufacturer of them. We considered starting production – on a small scale, of course – but abandoned the idea.'

'Why?'

'No market. Nor will there be until the Government allows them to go at more than four miles an hour. In France, in Italy, they already travel at twenty miles an hour. They are making huge progress and we have to sit and watch. Who wants to travel at four miles an hour when a horse will take you faster? We cannot make things that people will not buy.'

'Get the law changed.'

He snorted. 'Not so simple. People seem to think that businesses snap their fingers, and the Government does as it is told. Unfortunately it is not like that. And the more governments have to win votes from people who do not think or understand anything at all, the worse it becomes.'

'Maybe they are afraid that people will get killed.'

'They are afraid voters will get killed. And so they will. But hundreds are trampled by horses every year as well, and they don't limit their speed.'

He fell silent for some while as the carriage made its way along the streets of Paris.

'You may be interested to know,' he said quietly after a while, 'that I have asked the Countess von Futak to marry me.'

'Good . . . I mean, congratulations, sir,' I said with total astonishment. 'Has she—?'

'She has asked for a week to consider her reply. It is a woman's privilege, I believe, and I am sure she must consider the fact that for her it would be something of a social descent. Anyway, here we are.'

I imagined Elizabeth's dinner being cooked by her chef, and wondered what I was going to eat that evening. Nothing as grand, I thought. I still hadn't had the opportunity to tell her that Simon was no longer a problem for her. Nor that, in fact, her problems were now very much greater. Stone had just astonished me, but he clearly was already regretting his confidence and did not want to return to the subject. Poor man, I thought. I was certain I knew what her answer would be. At least she was being kind in pretending to consider the offer, rather than burst out laughing. But she had little to laugh about, at the moment. John Stone's offer would not last long if he knew what was in those diaries, and unless I could find Drennan, he soon would.

Stone opened the door and led the way in. And switched on the lights. Of course he had offices with electricity. He liked everything modern. Even the desks the clerks worked at were sleek and new and designed with efficiency in mind.

'Through here,' he said, and led the way through one room, then through another and finally into a little cubicle containing the telegraph machine. 'Don't ask me how it works, I've never used it. It's the latest machine, though, and I believe you tap on that,' he pointed to a key, 'and then press all sorts of buttons there,' he pointed to a bank of switches and cables rising up in a vast, technological cliff above the desk, 'to make it go.'

'Oh, God,' I said. 'I don't think this is going to work very well.' I had never seen a machine like it before. I had not a clue how to operate it.

I pressed a button tentatively. Nothing happened. 'Who normally sits here?'

Stone shrugged. 'I've no idea,' he said. 'Aren't you meant to be able to do this sort of thing?'