Стюарт Вудс - Shakeup

“I mean, I brought a couple of hundred grand with me and declared it to customs. I didn’t know how long I’d be here. I can’t haul all that cash into the States.”

“Do you have a bank account on this side of the pond?” Alfie asked.

“No.”

“I’d suggest Switzerland.”

“I thought that was all over. No secret accounts anymore.”

“I know a small private bank. It won’t be a secret account, but nobody’s going to ask them, are they? You can take a train to Zurich.”

“I thought I might buy a car and drive around the continent for a few days.”

“Good idea; I know a fellow who can get you what you want, and for export, all the right paperwork. You just have to pay the shipping, then the customs duty at the other end, when it arrives in the USA.”

“Sounds good.”

“What car do you want?”

“I was thinking a Mercedes, the big one.”

“The S550?”

“Right.”

“You want to pick it up in London or Zurich?”

“London.”

They finished their lunch, and Alfie made a call, then handed Eddie the phone. “This is my mate Tom. Tell him exactly what you want,” he said.

Eddie took the phone and had a discussion about color and options, then hung up. “He’ll call me back.”

Alfie looked at his watch. “My man’s man should be here shortly. It would be better if you took a stroll around the square.”

“Right,” Eddie said. “If Tom calls back, give him my cell number.”

“As you wish.” Alfie settled into his chair.

Eddie went downstairs and took a stroll around Belgrave Square, then he stopped at a pub and had a pint of bitters.

Alfie took the paintings out of the carryall and looked them over. “Smashing,” he said aloud to himself.

Eddie got back to Alfie’s flat and found him in his study, looking very pleased with himself.

“Everything all right?” Eddie asked.

“Couldn’t be better,” he said, pointing to two identical aluminum cases. “Pick one. They’ve both got half a million pounds in them.” Eddie picked one up and set it on Alfie’s desk. It was very heavy.

“The combination for the locks is 3030,” Alfie said.

Eddie spun the numbers into place and released the snaplocks. He opened the case and was greeted with stacks of twenty- and fifty-pound banknotes. He riffled through a few stacks to be sure there was no newspaper, just money, then he snapped the lid shut. “Thank you so much, Alfie,” he said.

“You earned your half, Eddie. When things went wrong, you closed the deal and got us home safely.” His telephone rang. “Yes? Hello, Tom. Come right up.” He hung up and set his own case behind the desk. “I believe that’s your new car being delivered,” he said. “Put your case in the dining room, and go in there when you count out the cash. We don’t want Tom seeing that.”

Eddie picked up the case and carried it into the dining room, closing the door behind him.

There was a bustle at the front door, and a tall man in a tweed suit and trilby hat walked in with Eddie’s and Alfie’s wives, who were carrying lots of shopping bags.

“Oh, Eddie,” Shelley said, “the new car is gorgeous. Tom showed it to us!”

“Ladies,” Alfie said. “Will you excuse us for a few minutes while we transact some business?”

The women went upstairs with their loot, and Alfie introduced Tom and Eddie. Tom handed Eddie a file. “Here’s all your paperwork,” he said. “Certificate of origin, bill of sale, British registration — good for a year — U.S. emissions certification, driver’s handbook, the window sticker listing all the options, and some photos of the car.”

Eddie looked through them. “Looks good to me.”

“If Tom says it’s good, it’s good,” Alfie said.

Tom handed Eddie a bill. “All told, £143,051, including a year’s comprehensive insurance,” he said. “We’ll call it £143,000 even, shall we?”

“Good,” Eddie said. “Excuse me for a moment, I’ll get your money from the safe.” He went into the dining room, opened the case and counted out the money, then went back to the study. “Here you are,” he said, “all in fifty-pound notes.”

Tom examined the money carefully, and Alfie removed a large, buff envelope from a desk drawer and put the money into it.

They shook hands and Tom provided two sets of keys. “Would you like me to give you a tour of the controls?”

“I’ll manage,” Eddie said. They shook hands, and Tom left.

“Well, that was slick,” Eddie said.

“Tom’s a peach.” Alfie handed him a ferry schedule. “I’d suggest you get up very early tomorrow and take the seven AM Chunnel train. It’s about a two-hour drive down there. You should phone down and make a reservation.”

Eddie did all that, and when the ladies came down for drinks, he told Shelley they’d be leaving the house at four AM.

“It’s about 650 miles to Zurich,” Alfie said. “I shouldn’t think you’d want to stop for the night, given your cargo. Just go straight to the bank.” He handed Eddie the bank’s managing director’s card. “I’ve already spoken to him. He’ll wait for your arrival. Call him when you’re an hour out. I’ll book a hotel suite for you.”

After dinner, Eddie loaded the car with the aluminum case and their luggage, then locked the trunk. The car was perfect. The following morning at four AM, they drove out of the garage. The traffic was very light, and they made excellent time. They checked in at the Chunnel an hour early and read the papers and drank coffee until boarding. By noon they were halfway to Zurich.

Eddie tried a couple of times to call Alfie to thank him again, but there was no reply. He switched his phone off the rest of the time.

Eddie phoned the banker, Karl Wirtz, an hour out, and continued to Zurich. Guided by the GPS they reached the bank. Eddie asked Shelley to wait, and he got the aluminum case from the trunk and rang the front bell. A man in some sort of uniform admitted him to the bank and took him up in the elevator to the top floor. The door opened directly into a foyer, and a small man in a good suit admitted him to an elegant office.

“Mr. Craft, I’m so relieved to see you,” Wirtz said, showing him to a chair. “I’ve prepared all your documents for opening an account.” He handed Eddie a file folder. “Please peruse them and sign where indicated. In the meantime, our accounting department will count your cash and give you a deposit receipt.” The uniform took the case and left the room.

Eddie looked over the paperwork and signed where indicated. He looked at Wirtz, who still looked worried. “Why were you relieved to see me, Mr. Wirtz? You were expecting me, after all.”

Wirtz’s face fell. “I take it you are not aware of the events in London this morning?”

“No, we’ve been on the road since the wee hours.”

“Then you will not know about Mr. Bing.”

“Know what?”

“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Craft, but we have been informed by our London office that Mr. Bing and his wife were shot and killed in their home this morning, while having breakfast. Their apartment was ransacked.”

Eddie thought about that. They would have been through the Chunnel by that time.

A man came into the room and handed Eddie a document.

“Your deposit receipt, sir.”

Wirtz handed Eddie a small document case, bound in alligator leather. “Here are your checkbooks, a debit/ATM card, which you must sign, your PIN number, and a bankbook, indicating your balance. You may write checks in any currency, anywhere in the world and the bank will automatically give you the best exchange rates upon receipt.”