Part 8 (1/2)
-Thank you. Mr. McGee, I beg your indulgence in letting me pursue the same line of questioning a bit further.
-Go right ahead.
-Is it reasonable to a.s.sume that a man of unblemished reputation, a Vice-President and Trust Officer of a bank, would conspire with a prominent local attorney to defraud a young woman out of a part of her inheritance?
-I don't know how reasona- -Just answer the question.
-Yes.
-You think that is a reasonable a.s.sumption?
-It has happened before, all over the world, right? How many hundred times? So it can happen. And you are saying it happened again?
-No. I don't know what happened. Maybe they had some kind of deal with Ted. Maybe they're not supposed to tell Pidge about it. Maybe they don't really buy this idea of treasure maps. All I know is they didn't act like two men who know something valuable is missing. That's all I ever said.
-During your previous testimony, you stated that it was your belief that there was more than one set of these doc.u.ments.
-It just seems reasonable there had to be.
-Would you tell the Court, please, why there had to be?
-Because my friend, Ted Lewellen, was a finikin.
-A what?
-Counselor, the witness is using an obsolete word to describe a person who is almost unnecessarily and compulsively fussy about even the most trivial details.
-Oh. Thank you, your Honor. Would the witness care to speculate about how many copies of the valuable doc.u.ments exist, and where they might be?
-No. I would not care to speculate.
Mansfield Hall's office was in one of the older buildings in downtown Miami. There were a bank, brokerage house, airline offices and shopping mall on the ground floor. The eleven remaining floors seemed stacked with law firms.
He was in the middle, on the sixth floor, at the end of a corridor. It was a clever location. One could not help but a.s.sociate him in more areas than geography with the suites one pa.s.sed, with the handsome paneled doors and the bronze nameplates. The older buildings have the higher ceilings. They have windows which can be opened. The thick walls provide more privacy. The paneling is made out of boards, not out of woodgrain thin as a fingernail, epoxied to fiberboard.
I pushed the door open at five of four. The woman behind the secretarial desk was very close to being Mrs. Archie Bunker until she opened her mouth. A very British accent. I was expected. One moment, please. She slipped through a door, reopened it seconds later and stood aside, holding it.
I went in and she closed it. Her office was very bright. His was dark and large, draperies closed, lamps turned on. Leather books and leather chairs. Gleam of silver, of oiled rosewood and polished mahogany.
He was a small, round-headed man, with thick white hair and a thick white mustache, both carefully brushed and tended. He had a very ruddy face, a bulb nose, bulging blue eyes with sandy lashes. He came around the desk to meet me, all cordiality. He was about the size of the average twelve-year-old boy, and he wore splendid tweeds, immaculate linen, a small polka-dot tie, white dots on a blue that matched his eyes.
He waved me into a deep chair and went back behind his desk, and I noticed that his black leather judge's chair was on a platform. Had he meant it to give him more presence, he would not have come around the desk. So it was for the sake of convenience.
The more common conversational hiatus breakers, while one selects the right word, are ”eh.”
”ah.”
”er,” and ”um.” His s.p.a.ce filler was ”haw.”
”Mr. McGee, I do... I do wish that after we talked on the phone I'd been able to... haw... intercept you before you took the trouble to come here to my office. We all seem to spend far too much of our lives das.h.i.+ng about on superfluous errands.”
”Mr. Hayes told me to tell you he is worried about the lack of control on the expense factor. He has substantial operating capital, but not unlimited.”
”It's quite... haw... academic at this point, I fear. Directly after you telephoned me, I got in touch with my princ.i.p.als in this matter to determine the flexibility of their stipulations so that I could relay to you the acceptable bounds of negotiation. I had previously reported my conversation with Mr. Hayes, of course. It is their... haw... feeling at this time that they wish to leave the door open with Seven Seas, but that certain other affairs require such intensive supervision it would be best to... haw... postpone the negotiations until some future date more convenient to them. They regret any inconvenience they may have caused Mr. Hayes, or yourself.”
”Mr. Hayes will be very disappointed.”
”Really! He didn't seem all that impressed with the proposition.”
”He's a cautious man.”
”The world makes us all more cautious with every pa.s.sing year.”
”Mr. Hall, could you tell me when they might be willing to reopen negotiations?”
”They did not say. I wouldn't hazard a guess.”
”Maybe there was something in the selection of words or the tone of voice that might clue you as to whether it would be, for example, two months or two years.”
”I might have been able to draw some... haw... useful inference, Mr. McGee, had I been in direct communication. But this has all been through their representative.”
”Who would that be?”
”Someone they trust to remain discreet, I should imagine.”
His expression was one of impa.s.sive, everlasting amiability. You get to know the breed after you've met a few of them. The professional negotiators. There is absolutely no way to irritate them, entrapthem or confuse them. They cannot be bribed, bullied, frightened or cajoled. They are as unreadable as master poker players must be. They have no little nervous tics which could reveal mood. They do not smoke and they do not drink, and they seem almost independent of all plumbing facilities. They don't sweat, wilt or yawn. They merely sit across a table from you for thirty-six or forty-eight hours, looking tidy and pleasant and inquisitive, until finally you say the h.e.l.l with it, and give them what they asked for in the first place.
I should have thanked him and left. But there is no law against chunking pebbles against Stone Mountain.
”On second thought, maybe Mr. Hayes will feel relieved.” I waited for some response. He just sat there, amiably, waiting for me to say something he could respond to. ”One aspect of this bothered him. He wondered why the person owning these doc.u.ments would have to trade fifty percent of the net return for the chance of recovery. That made him wonder if there might be... some slight flaw in the t.i.tle to the doc.u.ments.”
He looked appreciative. ”Most... haw... delicately said, sir. The question of owners.h.i.+p of notes copied from doc.u.ments in the public domain raises interesting legal points. So does the question of the value one could a.s.sign to such research. A treasure map purporting to describe the location of one million dollars in doubloons has not the same status as a certified check for one million dollars. I believe that the reason for covert dealings is probably far more explicable on... haw... an emotional basis.”
”I don't think I know what you mean.”
”One day a man of the cloth sneaked out the back door of his church on a very holy day, changed his clothing and went to a golf course and played one round all by himself. G.o.d focused his attention on the sinner, and a young ignorant angel watched over G.o.d's shoulder. The ignorant angel watched and saw the sinner sink a three wood for an eagle two on the first hole, hit a long iron into the cup for an eagle three on the second hole, make a hole in one on the third. Following the same pattern, he finished the first nine holes in twenty strokes, and as he teed off on the tenth and hit his drive three hundred and seventy yards down the middle, the angel cried out, 'G.o.d, he is a sinner! Why are you rewarding him?' 'Rewarding him?' G.o.d rumbled. 'Think about it. Who can he tell?'”
I saw what Mansfield Hall was driving at. I grinned and nodded.
He said, ”In our society treasure-hunting is a sign of... haw... immaturity and unreliability. Captain Kidd. Yo-ho-ho. Walk the plank, et cetera, et cetera. Perhaps the fellow holds public office, or is in some fiduciary position, or is a bishop or a college president, or a market a.n.a.lyst.” He stood up, and the eight-inch platform made him look of average height as he leaned across the desk to extend his small hand. ”Tell Mr. Hayes that should I ever be contacted again on this matter, I shall... haw... most probably get in touch with him.”
I made very good time from his office to the elevator, to the ground floor, and to a phone booth. I got Tom Collier's office number from information. To avoid going through the coin-slot routine, I made the short-distance pay call to his office on my John D. MacDonald GT credit card. I got the switchboard and asked for Tom Collier. A girl said, ”Mr. Collier's office.”
I hoped I could do it without the usual practice session with the tape recorder. I said, ”Forgive me, my dear, but I have... haw... recalled a matter I forgot to mention when I telephoned ' Mr. Collier earlier.”
”Oh, Mr. Hall, I'm sorry, but Mr. Collier left about ten minutes ago, and he won't be back in the office until the second. That's next Wednesday. Is it really important?”