“Yes, they do, or anyway did.”
Merlin relieved the returning pain in his shoulder by standing up and walking to the window again. “And does the gold you hold earn him any interest?”
De Souza reached down into a drawer beneath him and produced a document. “It does not, Chief Inspector. It appreciates or not, as the case may be.” He fingered the document. “I hope I am not going to get into trouble for telling you, but this document is a loan agreement.”
“Between who?”
“Between the Count and the Polish government in exile. It enables the government to use the gold as collateral for funds that my bank makes available from time to time.”
“Didn’t you say that the government had its own funds?”
“Some, Chief Inspector, but I believe the task of running a government in exile and supporting resistance activities in Poland is an expensive one.”
Merlin resumed his seat. “So the Count is a true patriot?”
“It would appear so, yes.” De Souza opened a small packet. “Turkish cigarettes. One of my vices. Can I interest you?”
Merlin and Robinson declined. De Souza lit up, filling the room with a pungent aroma and smoke which made Robinson’s eyes water.
“Turning to Kilinski.”
“Ah, yes, the flyer. Well, as I said, he came to see me, wishing to open a deposit. We discussed the formalities. Then he produced the necklace or amulet or whatever you call it. Said he’d like to deposit it with us. Asked me if I thought it was valuable.”
“He had the actual amulet?”
“Yes, indeed, a very beautiful item.”
“Why on earth didn’t you tell us in the first place?”
De Souza shrugged. “A banker’s first reaction is to respect customer confidentiality.”
“Hmm. Well, what did you say?”
“Well, of course, I could see it was a beautiful item. Said I’d check out the gold content and get it appraised for him if he wanted. He declined forcefully, saying he could get someone else to do it.”
“Did he say where he got it?”
“Called it a family heirloom. I can’t pretend I wasn’t a little surprised. He seemed to be a very ordinary boy. Jewish, I should have thought. We can always tell our own, you know. A fellow from some poor ghetto in Warsaw or Krakow or Stettin or somewhere like that, I would guess, who had somehow elevated himself into the Polish Air Force. Where would a boy like that get such a beautiful thing? Perhaps he stole it or looted it in the invasion of Poland or maybe even here, in this blisskrieg of the Nazis.” The second whisky appeared to have gone to de Souza’s head and his words were becoming a little slurred.
“And the ingot? Did he show you the ingot?”
The banker picked up the gold bar, which Merlin had left on the desk, and held it up so that it caught the light from the window. “He did. Asked me whether I had seen any others like it.” De Souza set the ingot back down on the desk.
“And did you tell him?”
“I did not. That would have been a definite breach of client confidentiality.”
“And what did Kilinski say?”
“He was rather rude. Said he didn’t believe me. Mentioned Tarkowski and said that he must have plenty of them. Asked if Tarkowski had an account with us. I remained silent.”
“And then?”
“He stood up. Picked up his ingot and his amulet, said that he wasn’t sure about the account and that he’d think about it and then said good day.”
“And that was that?”
“Yes, that was that. Except…”
“Yes?”
“Except he returned to see me again the following week. The Friday before last it was, I think.”
“That would have been what date, sir?”
De Souza consulted his desk diary. “The 6th, Chief Inspector. September the 6th.”
“And?”
“He was here for minutes only just to tell me he had changed his mind about me valuing the amulet.”