Peter Rabe - A Shroud for Jesso

“And the long methods defeat our time schedule,” said Delf.

“I know Mr. Jesso quite well by now. I suggest you pay me as in the past and make different arrangements for him.”

“What have you tried, von Kator?”

Jesso remembered what he had tried. He had tried frightening him to death, shooting him to death, tempting him to death. The only thing he hadn’t tried was giving in. Even now. And Delf was worse. Delf could sit there and make tired doodles while going over in his mind to break a man’s arm so it took half an hour, how to kill him while keeping him alive.

Jesso’s fingers were painfully clenched and a thick sweat was growing over his skin. Everywhere. Except on his face. He rarely sweated on his face. That was good. His hands were in his pockets, so they couldn’t see that. His face was dry, and nothing showed there. Only his jaw had started to set with a grip like murder and any moment it would show, it would show with a crazy jumping and trembling as if he had some nervous disease.

“Your judgment must do in this case, von Kator. Mr. Jesso?”

He hadn’t heard any of it, but now the tone was different and the room was just a room, with Kator looking correct and Delf making a simple doodle.

“Mr…”

“I hear you.”

“While cash is out of the question, Mr. Jesso, I can agree to make deposits in your name in any bank.”

“O.K.,” he said. “O.K., do that. Do it now.”

“What banks, Mr. Jesso?”

“I got an account at Chase. Put it there.”

“Only one bank?”

He was right. One bank was no good. The bulge would show too much. Jesso sat up. He was just getting to be himself again and it made him sit up.

“How do I know you’re depositing? How do I know this finishes it off and-“

“Mr. Jesso. I don’t see Herr von Kator behaving in this stupid, suspicious manner, and I also fail to see why you-“

“That’s because you and Kator are buddies, but Kator and me aren’t such good friends any more. I’m going by that, Delf, because with you I don’t know what to go on. Now, figure me out how to make a deposit and I know about it.”

“What banks, Mr. Jesso?”

“What banks, what banks! I give a damn what banks? The one in Hannover, right after the square where you leave the villa for town.”

“He means the Handelsbank,” said Kator. He had a smile on his face.

Jesso didn’t see it because he was getting impatient. “All right, the Handelsbank near that square. Fifty thousand.”

This time Kator laughed out loud.

“And what are you hee-hawing about?”

“It’s von Kator’s bank,” said Delf.

“So maybe they haven’t got room for another depositor?”

Kator wasn’t laughing any more; just sort of a grin was on his face.

“He owns it,” said Delf.

Jesso was going to yell again when Kator made a wave with his hand.

“It’s a legitimate bank, Jesso, and you are quite safe there. Just the thought struck me as amusing. I pay two per cent.”

“One buck to the Handelsbank,” said Jesso.

“You’re being ridiculous. I told you the bank is legitimate, and when I am legitimate, Jesso, I am completely so.”

Jesso believed that.

“Fifty thousand into Kator’s jug, and let me see how you do it, Delf.”

“I’ll call the bank by phone and-”

“I’ll call the bank by phone.”

“Certainly. And request the confirmation by wire. That is, if the phone isn’t enough for you.”

“It isn’t.”

After ten minutes Jesso was fifty thousand richer. “What other banks, Mr. Jesso?”

“Give me a Berlin directory.”

Delf coughed lightly and shook his head. “Fifty thousand is the total amount I will deposit for you in this country I explained to you that our transaction must appear as unimportant as possible. I would suggest you pick American banks. I can make payment there through local sources that cannot be identified with me at all.”

“I’m here, Delf, not in the States.”

“I have compromised with you; now you compromise with me.”

Jesso thought about it for a moment, then let it go.

Gluck wasn’t going to find him any more easily in the States than in Europe, and this deal was coming to a head. It wasn’t worth the delay.

“Chase National, fifty thousand.”

“Will you speak to them for confirmation or do you require a cable?”

“Both.”

It took half an hour while Jesso listened to the operator on the second phone on the desk. Then Delf started to talk and the man across the ocean answered.

“Is this Mr. Troy? Mr. Troy, this is Delf. Yes, thank you, quite well. You have an account in the name of Jack Jesso. Please deposit fifty thousand dollars to Mr. Jesso’s name and charge it to the Antwerp Gem Importers account… Yes, if you please… Indeed, indeed, she is as well as ever… I will, Mr. Troy, and the same to Mrs. Troy.”

That was that, and Jesso was one hundred thousand richer.

“Manufacturer’s Trust, New York.”

“Very well. However, the further deposits will be more complicated. The Antwerp account is the only one in the States with which my name is associated.”

“Manufacturer’s Trust, twenty thousand.”

Then came three others, ten thousand each, all of them in New York, and Jesso was worth one hundred and fifty thousand. He figured on putting the rest into places on the Coast, but that didn’t make sense. The less time he spent in the States collecting his loot, the better. His plans for the future had nothing to do with that side of the globe. But he had run out of banks, so he put fifty thousand in the Bank of America, Los Angeles, then American Express, New York, twenty thousand, and since he couldn’t think of anything else, another Los Angeles Bank, thirty thousand.

Jesso was worth a quarter of a million. Not counting the hundred thousand that he had stashed at Express in Hannover. Then Delf said, “And now for your part, Mr. Jesso” They looked at each other. “Which of these sets of figures shows production of the trigger?”

It didn’t occur to Jesso to stall. The deal was on, half of it finished, and he was next. Delf must have known that about Jesso. He had paid first. Or he had known that Jesso wouldn’t talk unless he was paid first. In any case, Jesso was next.

“Joe Snell kept saying, ‘Honeywell high.’ The high column of figures shows production of the trigger.”

Delf nodded, stopped making the spirals, and went over the columns. He checked it, folded the paper, and slid it into his pocket. That was all. Then he spiraled again.

But Kator wasn’t so calm. The slow rage grew on his face like an attack of the hives, and when his mouth came open as if it hurt, Jesso thought that the man would scream. Only a croak came out, a breathy, articulate croak.

“'Honeywell high'! That’s all-'Honeywell high'! A complicated bit of remembering, a complex piece of instruction that saved you all this time from-from-” His eyes shone as if he were seeing some swift, sharp torture that would have dragged anything out of him and now it was lost. He sat by when Jesso started to laugh, long and loud, and he sat by while Jesso got it out of his system because he was through with waiting and free to laugh. If Kator hadn’t been convinced before, he knew it now This time Jesso had told the truth. That’s the way that laugh had gone.

From now on it was an easy kind of waiting for Jesso. They sat around to wait for the cables to come, the last formality that would put the touch on the deal. They came one after the other, until four in the morning, and each time Jesso folded one and stuck it away, it was one more step into one great big future.

He didn’t really come back down to earth till they got outside. A blank sun was over the street, and the early morning looked anesthetic. It made Jesso feel dirty. He ached in the back and his shirt felt old. He could feel the socks in his shoes and it made him nervous.