Christopher Reich - Numbered Account

“I’m here to pick up the file for account 549.617 RR for Herr Kaiser.”

Karl responded to the commanding edge of Nick’s voice. He spun, picked up the thick dossier, and handed it to the Chairman’s assistant in one fluid motion. Nick placed the dossier under his arm and turned to leave the office.

“Wait,” cried Karl. “The Chairman asked if I could recognize you. Give me a minute!”

Nick rotated his shoulders to the left and gave Karl his profile. “I’m sorry. We’re very busy. The Chairman expects to receive this dossier right away.” With that he exited the office as quickly as he had entered. The entire visit had lasted fifteen seconds.

He hit the stairwell running, taking the steps two by two. He held the dossier in his left hand and the banister in his right. After five upward strides, his knee gave out. He could raise the leg, but only if he was willing to endure a severe lick of pain. So much for speed. Now he had to make sure he suppressed a limp.

Nick rested when he reached the entry to the Fourth Floor. He could not imagine walking into Wolfgang Kaiser’s office and handing Ali Mevlevi a dossier from which privately addressed mail had been stolen. What would the man do when he opened up letters supposedly containing confirmations of his many deposits and transfers only to find blank paper?

The consequences were unthinkable. Yet only seconds from happening.

Nick opened the door that led to the Fourth Floor hallway and walked directly into Rudolf Ott.

“Excuse me,” said Ott, eyes wide with shock.

“I’m in a hurry to see the Chairman,” Nick blurted without thinking. As Ott was directly facing him, there was no way to judge in which direction the man was heading. If he was going to see Mrs. Sutter, Nick would have no choice but to accompany him.

Ott blinked anxiously through his thick glasses. “I thought you were with him right now. Well, what are you waiting for? Get moving.”

Nick sighed with relief and set off down the hallway. He could already see the wide entryway leading to the Chairman’s anteroom. Rita Sutter sat just inside and to the right. She would be expecting his return any minute and unless he practically ran by, she would see him. He had no choice but to lower his head and walk past the entryway. He told himself to disregard any remark he might hear. His own office was down the corridor and to the left. Fifteen seconds, twenty max, were all he needed to replace the Pasha’s correspondence.

Nick walked down the hallway, conscious of keeping an even gait. He was in a great deal of pain. Three steps and he would be in Rita Sutter’s view. Two steps. The double doors were wide open, just as they’d been when he had left a few minutes ago. His peripheral vision told him that Kaiser’s doors were shut and that the red light above them was illuminated. Do not disturb. Period!

Nick kept his head down and powered past the entryway. He thought he saw someone speaking with Rita Sutter but he couldn’t be sure. Anyway, it didn’t matter now. Another few steps and he would be around the corner, out of her sight. He slowed his pace and straightened his back. His worry had been for naught.

“Neumann,” a deep voice yelled.

Nick kept walking. One more stride and he was around the corner. If necessary he could lock his office door.

“Goddammit, Neumann, I called for you,” Armin Schweitzer boomed. “Stop this second.”

Nick slowed. He hesitated.

Schweitzer lumbered down the hall after him. “My God, man, are you deaf? I called your name twice.”

Nick turned on his heel. “The Chairman is expecting me. I need to get a few papers out of my office.”

“Bullshit,” said Schweitzer. “Rita told me where you’ve been. I see you have what you were sent for. Now get in there. You probably wanted to call a girlfriend, right? Make plans for a Friday night. It doesn’t do to keep the Chairman waiting.”

Nick looked down the corridor toward his office and then toward Schweitzer, who was extending an eager hand, ready to personally drag him back to the Chairman’s office. The choice between Ali Mevlevi and Armin Schweitzer was easy to make. “I said I have to get something out of my office. I’ll be with Herr Kaiser in a minute.”

Schweitzer was taken aback. He took a step toward Nick, then stopped. “Suit yourself. I’ll be sure to inform the Chairman later.”

Nick turned his back and continued to his office. Inside, he locked the door behind him and bustled to his desk. He opened the top drawer and felt under it for the Pasha’s correspondence. Nothing was there. Had he forgotten where he had taped the letters? He opened the drawers on his right, first one, then the second, even the third, though he knew he hadn’t hidden the letters there. Nothing was under any of the drawers. Someone had found the stolen correspondence.

Entering the Chairman’s anteroom, Nick saw that Rita Sutter was engaged on the telephone.

“I’m sorry, Karl, but the Chairman cannot be disturbed.” She punched a button, disconnecting the call, then motioned for him to stop at her desk. “Karl just asked me if a Mr. Sprecher had come down to DZ in your place.”

“Really?” Nick pried open a brittle smile. He had been sure he’d escaped scot-free.

“I don’t know how he confused you with Mr. Sprecher. You two don’t look anything alike. Poor Karl. I don’t like to see him getting older. We’re following close behind.” She dialed a two-digit number and after a moment said, “Mr. Neumann is back from Dokumentation Zentrale.”

“Send him in,” barked Kaiser, loud enough for Nick to hear.

Nick waited for Rita Sutter to pass on Karl’s quip to the Chairman, but she hung up the phone, then inclined her head toward the double doors.

Nick walked into the Chairman’s office. He was struck once again by its overwhelming size. The massive mahogany desk beckoned like a medieval altar. Dim light filtered in through the grand arched window. He looked through it, surveying the busy scene below. Trams passed one another. Pedestrians crowded the sidewalks. A large square flag bearing the blue and white shield of Zurich was strung above the street. He hadn’t noticed it before. He looked closer at the flag. Suddenly, it struck him that he knew this view. It was the one vivid memory from his father’s last visit to the bank, seventeen years ago. He imagined himself as a child, nose pressed to the window, marveling at the busy street scene below. Nick had been in the Emperor’s Lair when he was ten years old.

Kaiser and Mevlevi were still seated around the long coffee table. They paid no attention to his slow approach.

“How have my investments fared of late?” demanded the Pasha.

“Rather well,” said Kaiser. “As of yesterday afternoon’s close, your investment has earned twenty-seven percent in the last ten months.”

Nick listened, wondering what Kaiser had put the Pasha’s money into.

Mevlevi asked Kaiser, “And if this Adler Bank gains seats on your board?”

“We will not allow that to happen.”

“They’re close, no?”

Kaiser looked up at Nick, only now registering his return to the office. “Neumann, what’s the official tally? Take a seat. Here, give me that dossier.”

Reluctantly, Nick handed Mevlevi’s file to Wolfgang Kaiser. “The Adler Bank has stalled at thirty-one percent of outstanding votes. We are holding fifty-two percent. The rest are uncommitted.”

Mevlevi pointed to the dossier sitting on Kaiser’s lap. “And what percentage of the votes do I control?”

“You hold exactly two percent of our shares,” said Kaiser.

“But an important two percent. Now I understand why you need my loan so badly.”