Джеймс Чейз - I Hold the Four Aces

Grenville’s martini arrived. He sipped and nodded his approval.

‘Absolutely right, Charles.’

‘And what would you like, Monsieur Grenville?’ the maître d’hôtel asked, hovering over Grenville like a mother hen over her chick.

Grenville didn’t consult the menu.

‘The langoustine, Louis?’

‘Impeccable, monsieur.’

‘Then why not the gratin de langoustine and the caneton en cocotte? ’

‘An excellent choice, Monsieur Grenville.’

Grenville looked at Archer.

‘I suggest you take the same, Jack. It is extremely good.’

Archer, who was famished, nodded eagerly.

The maître d’hôtel left them.

Grenville turned his flashing smile on Patterson.

‘Jack has explained the situation, Mr. Patterson, and I find it interesting. I suggest we go into details after lunch. It would be a pity to discuss business while we eat.’ He gave his baritone, musical laugh. ‘Pleasure before work.’ Then, without giving Patterson a chance to say anything, he launched into a steady monologue about the history of the Ritz Hotel, mentioning great names as if he knew the people and adding two amusing anecdotes about eccentric visitors while Patterson, bewildered, could only sit and stare.

The onion soup and the gratin de langoustine arrived and the wine waiter appeared at Grenville’s elbow.

‘Mr. Patterson is the host, Charles,’ Grenville said. ‘The cellar here, Mr. Patterson, is still remarkable. If you haven’t tried the Muscadet 1929, you should, and I believe they still have a few bottles of Margaux “59.”He looked at the wine waiter. ‘Do you, Charles?’

The wine waiter beamed.

‘For you, Monsieur Grenville.’

Patterson, who knew nothing about wine, was overawed. He nodded.

‘Okay, so we have that,’ he said.

During the impeccable meal, Grenville talked. He began by advising Patterson to see a new collection of modern paintings at a little gallery on the Left Bank.

‘There are two moderns that will be worth money in a couple of years,’ he said. ‘Cracinella: unknown at the moment, but could be as great as Picasso. You could triple your money.’ From art, he shifted to music, asking the bewildered Patterson if he had heard of a young pianist, Skalinski, who was quite remarkable.

Patterson ate, grunted and remained bewildered while Archer ate with enjoyment and was delighted with Grenville’s performance.

From modern art and music, Grenville went on to talk about films.

‘Paris is the showcase of modern movies,’ he said as he finished the duck. ‘I suppose you don’t have time to go to the movies. A man of your stature should take a look at this modern stuff.’

Archer could see that Patterson now was reacting to Grenville’s smooth and continuous talk. Grenville never gave Patterson a chance to make any comment. His steady monologue continued while he was served a champagne sorbet which both Patterson and Archer refused. The meal finished, and coffee served, Grenville beckoned to the wine waiter.

‘Have you still that favourite of mine, Charles?’

‘Certainly, Monsieur Grenville.’

Smiling, Grenville looked at Patterson.

‘This is a must, Mr. Patterson: a 1906 cognac. Quite remarkable.’

‘I’ll take a double whisky,’ Patterson grunted, asserting himself.

Grenville looked at Archer who said he would like the cognac. He realized these were the first words he had uttered since Grenville had arrived.

The whisky and the two cognacs were served, then Grenville lit a cigarette, letting Patterson have a good view of the diamond-encrusted gold cigarette case.

‘I won’t offer you one of these, Mr. Patterson,’ he said as he produced his gold lighter. ‘I am sure you are a cigar man.’

‘You’re goddamn right,’ Patterson said and lit a cigar.

Archer accepted a cigarette that Grenville offered. He was happily aware that Grenville had Patterson mesmerized the way a skilful matador, with a flick of his cape, mesmerizes a bull. Grenville, with his know-how, his monologue, his influence with the maître d’hôtel and the waiters, had struck at Patterson’s hidden inferiority complex: a complex many Americans suffer from when in Europe.

‘Now, Mr. Patterson, let us talk business,’ Grenville said, relaxing back in his chair. ‘You will, of course, want to know what you are buying. Let me tell you briefly about myself. I am thirty-nine years of age. English, educated at Eton and Cambridge. I speak German, French and Italian fluently. I have played tennis with Rod Laver, and I have played golf in the Amateur Open Golf championship. I ski and water-ski, and I fence. I play the piano rather well and I sing; I have had minor roles at the Scala. I ride and play polo. I understand modern art which interests me. When I left Cambridge, my father wished me to become a very junior partner in his business. This didn’t appeal to me.’ Grenville smiled. ‘I found I could have much more fun looking after elderly rich women. I have this talent for making women happy. I have been a professional gigolo for the past twenty years, and with considerable success. Jack tells me you are looking for an expert like myself to take care of Helga Rolfe. I haven’t met the lady, but I am confident I can handle her. You want two million dollars from her to promote a property deal. If you and I can come to an arrangement, I can assure you, I can get this money for you.’

Patterson pulled at his cigar as he stared at Grenville.

‘Maybe. Yeah... you just might.’

Grenville signalled to the waiter to refill his coffee cup.

‘There is no just might, Mr. Patterson, I deliver.’

Patterson brooded for a long minute while Archer watched him anxiously, then Patterson nodded.

‘Yeah. Okay. How do you set about it?’

‘That you must leave to me,’ Grenville said. ‘It will take a couple of weeks, but you will get the money.’

Patterson looked questioningly at Archer who nodded.

‘I assure you, Mr. Patterson, Chris is as good as his word,’ he said.

Patterson grunted.

‘Well, okay... go ahead.’

Grenville sipped his coffee, then said, ‘Naturally, there are conditions on my side. I take it you are prepared to finance me while I take care of Madame Rolfe?’

Patterson stiffened.

‘What’s that mean?’

‘To meet Madame Rolfe on equal terms, I intend to take a suite at the Plaza Athénée. I need to hire an impressive car. I will need five thousand francs for spending money.’ Grenville smiled at Patterson. ‘I take it you will take care of the bills?’

Giving Patterson no time to think, Archer said smoothly, ‘That won’t be an excessive outlay for two million dollars, Mr. Patterson. After all, you were prepared to pay the air fare for Ed and myself to Saudi Arabia and all expenses.’

Patterson rolled his cigar around in his mouth while he thought.

‘Yeah,’ he said finally. ‘Okay, but now listen, Grenville, you produce or you’re in trouble. I’ll stake you, but you deliver!’

Grenville’s handsome face turned to stone.

‘Mr. Patterson!’ There was a bite in his voice. ‘Let me remind you that you are not dealing with one of your fellow-countrymen. I understand that you businessmen like to act tough, now and then. It is part of your business facade, but I will not tolerate anyone threatening me as you have just threatened me. Let that be understood. I have told you I will get two million dollars from Madame Rolfe for your promotion, but on my terms. If you have no confidence in me, now is the time to say so, but never, never threaten me, Mr. Patterson.’ He leaned forward and stared directly at Patterson. ‘Is that understood?’