Pascoe busied himself laying out questionnaires on each of the conference chairs, then checked the photo-copier. He was still
familiarizing himself with its controls when the first of the people arrived.
"Good morning
... Reginald Guyton... thanks for coming.," he introduced himself using his most sophisticated accent and tapped his lapel badge indicating his name. It was another ploy to help them feel at home, an American idea to remind people who forgot their own names!
"Dodge, Ed Dodge
," came the drawled reply," My daughter Sylvia and my friends Julie and Alfred Kennerly." From their accents, Pascoe reckoned they came from the southern states.
"Please do take a seat and make yourselves comfortable
.., you're the first to arrive." Pascoe gestured towards the seats. "Perhaps you would like to complete the questionnaires while you are waiting."
"What's this all about?" Dodge asked, trying to read the name from Pascoe's badge.
"Everything in good time, Mr. Dodge. Perhaps you'd care for some coffee." He pointed to the hospitality table at the far side of the room.
More people had arrived while he had been talking and by 11.15 am there were well over a hundred people present. He told Sam to be ready to start at 11.30 sharp and suggested that she
familiarize herself with the photo-copier. He took his position on the raised dais two minutes before 11.30 and fiddled with papers from his brief-case, indicating that he was about to start. Then, with a last glance at his watch, he stood up and began his address.
"Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen
... welcome to the Dallasbank conference. May I introduce my executive officer, Miss Fairbrother…" he gestured to Sam,"... and I am Reginald Guyton. Now, I expect you are all wondering why you are here... the answer is simple. MONEY. We Americans sure do like it." He lapsed into an American accent to make this point, then continued in his best refined English. There was a brief response of half-suppressed laughter from around the room.
"Let me tell you right away that this meeting will cost you nothing except a little of your time. Any finances involved will be provided by us!"
He introduced himself as Chief Executive Officer to a senior Vice-President of an American Bank, informing the gathered assembly that later in the year, the bank would be expanding its operations into the European market, using London as a base.
"Now before I can go into details,” Pascoe continued, there are a couple of security measures we must take, because large sums of money are involved." Having gained their attention by mentioning the money, he picked up a questionnaire and explained the document.
"All the information you put on this document will be treated in the strictest confidence," he reassured them, "But there is one other thing we will ask you to do and that is to permit Miss Fairbrother here to photo-copy an identifying document from each of you. Your passports preferably, but failing that, a driving license will suffice. We have our own photo-copier at the back of the room and Miss Fairbrother will make the copies while you wait. Thank you for your co-operation."
The room filled with the sound of papers being rustled and chairs scraping over the parquet-tiled floor. Some people started making their way directly to Sam at the photo-copier, while others headed for the refreshments. Pascoe felt as though he had just performed one of Hamlet's longer soliloquies at the National theatre and glanced at Sam for some sign of encouragement that it had gone well, but Sam was playing it cool. He sat down and listened to the cacophony of voices, but caught only the odd snippet as a word or phrase hung in the air. The voices rose and fell like a tide, leaving half-finished sentences stranded, out of context. There was however, an underlying theme
... "What's the guy need our passports for... when do we get them back? I don't like filling in this question thing... Can they do this... ? Who do they think they are... Let's see what's in it for us... I bet it's the CIA behind it... "
Slowly, individual delegates came forward and handed their questionnaires and photo-copies to Pascoe. Some were of driving
licenses, but most were of passports. There were even three gun licenses!
Pascoe had only to scan through the questionnaires checking for Dallas addresses as places of birth or residence, as these represented the greatest source of danger. It just wouldn't do to have someone stand up and say that they were a resident of Dallas and had never heard of his fictitious bank. He was also looking for members of government agencies, security
organizations or banks, as that might also cause embarrassment. In short, he skimmed the questionnaires for any detail that could possibly jeopardize the venture. As soon as the checking was complete, he turned his attention back to the conference.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your co-operation and patience. Before we go any further, will Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson and Mr. Garvey please come and join us on the platform." The three people stood up and self-consciously made their way towards the podium. Pascoe spoke to them in a low voice.
"I've asked you to join us here, because your questionnaires indicated that you are all connected with Dallas. Is that correct?" He asked. They all confirmed that they did indeed live in Dallas.
"In actual fact our Bank's president originates from Dallas and he suggested asking any Dallas residents to undertake a special assignment for us, while in England. I should mention that it will bring rewards in excess of anything other people here will gain. So, perhaps, if you would like to accompany Miss Fairbrother outside
... she will be pleased to give you the details. We do appreciate your help in this matter and I'm sure I don't have to stress the need for your discretion. Thank you so much for coming." Sam ushered them out of the conference room, to explain that the Bank wanted a survey completed by visitors to the U.K. as to how easy it was to get around in Great Britain, changing money and traveler's cheques and using American based credit cards. They would be instructed to report to the head office of the bank upon their return to the States, at which time they would be handsomely rewarded for their efforts. In reality, it was an upmarket version of the 'bum's rush'. As soon as they were clear of the conference room, Pascoe started his speech to the rest of the delegates.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being so patient with us. These che
ques had to be made and when you see the sums of money involved, you will understand why. We at Dallasbank - would like you to help us spend our money during the next week or so. I expect you've all been warned about carrying too much cash when travelling abroad. To be safe, some of you carry credit cards and most of you already use travelers’ cheques, because these offer you a measure of protection should you lose them or have them stolen."
Pascoe explained how a pilot scheme was to be launched, putting quantities of
Travelers’ Cheques into the U.K. market as a test run for the European launch later that year, and that it had been decided to use bona-fide American visitors instead of spending millions on bringing banking personnel from the States to do the same thing.
"Each of you will be given a different part of London to work and it is vitally important to us at the bank that you stick to your areas. It will be of no use if one small area gets clogged and inundated with our che
ques, while other areas don't see any of them at all."
He stressed that the idea was to
familiarize the smaller banks and Bureau-de-Change with the cheques in order to make sure the system worked and that Dallasbank would rather spend the money now to prove that the system worked rather than risk the wrath and loss and goodwill of a single customer later on. Finally, he told them of he frustration of using travelers cheques which the banks didn't recognize, pointing out that some of them had already experienced such difficulties.
The conference con
"So, with your help and co-operation let's help Uncle Sam take another step through the door of the European Market and let's help each other to help ourselves." As he finished, some of the audience actually applauded. Not quite a standing ovation, but a lot better than nothing. He acknowledged the applause and asked for questions.
"Yeah, what's in it for us?" drawled a voice from near the back of the room. Pascoe knew then that he had won... greed was about to take over.
"You will be paid on a commission basis, which we have set at 15%. This may seem high, bu
t as many of the smaller bureau-de-change charge up to 9% commission themselves, we feel it to be a generous and reasonable figure."
"How much will we get out of it?" Came the same greedy voice.
"We will issue each of you with $15,000 of travelers’ cheques, which should make you a minimum of $900 each if you cash them all. Return the cash you have obtained for the cheques and we will pay you 15% of that sum at our city office. We would suggest that you change no more than two or three hundred dollars at a time as some of the smaller bureau operate on limited budgets."
"Excuse me Mr. Guyton", called a middle-aged woman from the front row.
"What do we do with the money once we have changed it?" Pascoe listened intently as it was the most important question of the whole operation and one which for credibility's sake, had to be asked from the floor.
"Good question. It’s quite simple. Whenever you feel you are carrying too much cash around, you may pay it into our office in the City. We will be open from 9.00 a.m. until 6.00 p.m., 7 days a week to enable you to do this. All
travelers’ cheques will be issued from that office and we ask you to return any un-cashed cheques and money to it. That side of the operation will be catered for by my assistant Miss Fairbrother. Are there any other questions?"
This time it was the turn again of the first questioner from the back of the room. "What's to stop us making off with all the money?"
"I believe I explained the precautions we took at the beginning of the session. That is one of the reasons we have your details on file, together with everyone's passport details. We are fully aware that among nearly 150 people taken at random, we are sure to include the odd rogue. You're not a rogue, are you, Mr?"
"O'Hara
..." The audience turned as one to the questioner, several of them laughing nervously.
"However, let me just state that any che
ques or money lost or stolen will be investigated by the usual authorities here and the details will be passed on to the U.S. Treasury Department, who may wish to make their own enquiries back in the United States."
"What do we do if we do lose them?"
"Another good question. Most of you will already be acquainted with the general precautions when using travelers’ cheques. With each issue of cheques there is a multi-copy agreement form. Your copy of this contains the numbers of the cheques issued to you, and the information on what you should do if the cheques are lost or stolen. Simply notify the police at any police station and inform us at the office. The relevant addresses and telephone numbers are printed in the booklet accompanying the cheques as well as on the Agreement Forms. The other copy of the agreement form will be placed on file and contains your specimen signature for authentication purposes. We will ask you to sign each cheque in our presence when we issue them to you and they must be counter-signed whenever you cash one. The cashier will expect to see your passport or other identity document at the time of encashment. Are there any other questions?" There were none and Pascoe breathed a little more easily.
"T
hank you all for coming here today. Please be sure to pick up a card from Miss Fairbrother as you leave... it has our address in the City... our office is quite close to the Bank of England. Thank you." He sat down to more applause feeling exhilarated. It had begun!
They waited until the last delegates had disappeared before packing everything away, managing to exchange only the briefest of smiles before the security guards re-joined them. Pascoe arranged to have the cases picked up in the morning and delivered to the City office.
“What room number do I have Miss Fairbrother?" asked Pascoe, remaining in character in case anyone should be within earshot.
"You're in room 369,
Sir", replied Sam, continuing the charade.
"Is that everything then?" Pascoe asked.
"I think so. I have taken a room on the second floor, overlooking the park... your key is at reception."
"Which room will you be in if I should need you?"
"Room 271.., everything's taken care of. I'll stop by in a few minutes." Sam took the briefcase from the desk and disappeared down the corridor. Pascoe checked the conference room, making sure they had left no incriminating evidence of their visit to the point of searching through the contents of the waste-paper bins, from which he removed a couple of questionnaires that had been spoilt. At last, satisfied that the room was clear, he visited Reception to collect his key.
The receptionist, another conventionally pretty girl, cloned from the original receptionist with fixed smile and superior accent checked the register, running her finger down the entries on the page.
"Yes, here we are, Sir, room 269. I'll get someone to take you."
"There is one other thing," added Pascoe, "I'm expecting a call
... Can you have it put straight through to my room.
"Certainly
Sir."
"Thank you."
A porter appeared, took Pascoe's room-key from the desk and with a curt 'This way, Sir', led him to the lift across the lobby. They alighted at the third floor and walked through endless, plush carpeted corridors to room 369. Here, the porter unlocked the door, presented the key to Pascoe and followed him into the room. With the door closed behind them, the porter spoke for the first time since leaving reception.
"The name's Gerry,
Sir and if you should want anything at all, just ask for me at reception. I'm used to looking after the needs of gentlemen and if we haven't got what you require, I dare say I'll know where to find it." His introductory offer finished, he sidled towards the door and hover ed expectantly. Pascoe took the hint.
"There you are Gerry," he said, slipping a fiver into the eager hand, "If I need anything at all, I'll let you know." He ushered the porter into the corridor. People like Gerry were reassuring, especially in the classier hotels like the Grosvenor. It showed him that there were always people ready to take advantage of the weaknesses in
others; something very similar to what he intended to do the next day.
When the phone rang
.., his call from the security firm, he arranged for the brief-cases to be picked up next morning at 8.00 a.m. and also requested that two guards be present at the City offices for the next 10 days - not that he expected to use their services, but knew they would add a touch of authenticity to the proceedings... the icing on the cake! A discreet knock interrupted his thoughts. He opened the door, half expecting to see the redoubtable Gerry, back to tempt him with some irresistible, salacious offer but was surprised to find a waiter who flounced into the room, pushing a heavily laden trolley of food.
"Hey! Hold your horses, I haven't ordered anything."
"I ordered it
Sir," said Sam, who had slipped unnoticed into the room behind the waiter. The man paused, unsure whom to obey. Sam put him at his ease.
"We'll dine over there," she directed, pointing to the table at the far side of the room.
Pascoe watched as the table was quickly and professionally prepared and took another £5 note from his wallet. The tip elicited a 'bon appetit' from the waiter who slipped quietly from the room. Staying at the Grosvenor was proving an expensive business...
"Before you complain," said Sam, anticipating his thoughts." We have had a long and tricky day. We are tired and hungry and I need you to be nice to me. I just thought we deserved a decent dinner together."
"I didn't say a word, but we haven't got this kind of money." he said, pointing to the lavish display of food." This must cost a fortune... "
"That's all right then
... we will have a fortune in a day or two..."
"Or be in jail
..."
"So what if we are going to jail on account of forging $3,000,000, why worry? The trouble with you Tom, is you worry too much. You keep thinking small, but I'll try to educate you in that department
... now how about dinner?" She passed him the vintage champagne to pour. "Do you remember the first time you opened a bottle of champagne for me?" Pascoe smiled at the thought. He'd never forget their first night together. He poured two glasses of the sparkling liquid, then replaced the bottle in the ice bucket.
Sam's extravagant taste was reflected in the meal that followed. Coquille St. Jacques accompanied by a bottle of Pouilly Fuissé; a main course of ‘magret de canard’ (sliced breast of roast duck) with a light cream sauce and a selection of fresh vegetables, washed down with a Gevrey Chambertin burgundy. After the richness of the sea-food and the duck, they
refreshed their palates with a delightful grapefruit sorbet before finishing with a fine selection of cheeses.
"You've forgotten something darling." Pascoe said, forking the last morsel of Roquefort cheese into his mouth.
"What?" she demanded, sure she'd left nothing out.
"A digestif
. "
"If you tell me what it is I will order it
. Money no object." Her words slurred across the table.
"The French finish their meals with a Cognac or Armagnac or something similar to help the digestion. Tell me
... do you like apples?"
"Of course
..."
Pascoe smiled as he ordered the hotel's finest calvados from 'Room Service'. When it arrived he poured Sam a generous measure of the golden liquid.
"Yhed mad.., that's Breton for ‘cheers’. You knock it back in one. "To demonstrate, he tipped the glass of fiery liquid back and trying hard not to pull too much of a face, motioned to Sam to do the same. It was a despicable trick to pull. Sam, trusting his example, followed suit and spent the next several minutes choking back the effects. She was too much woman, though, to complain.
Five minutes later, Sam said she felt sleepy. In twenty minutes she was dead to the world and Pascoe carried her to his bed. He would have much preferred to have joined her but had too much work to do, so he poured himself the first of several cups of black, sugarless coffee and settled down to his midnight preparations.
Taking the completed questionnaires from his briefcase, he sorted them into alphabetical order. He had printed them on 8 x 5 inch file cards so that they would form a simple index and after sorting them he carefully studied each card in turn. The details revealed a cross-section of the American population. Only the age group was similar. Most of the people who had come to the hotel were in their middle years. There were only two people under 35, one of them the loud mouthed Mr. O'Hara, who'd asked all the difficult questions.
In all, some 137 people had attended the conference, none of whom seemed to pose a
ny threat. None worked for the Treasury Department or the F.B.I, although if they had done, their details might not necessarily have been recorded on their passports. He guessed that it wasn't something you advertised. He was more worried that there might have been bankers among them, or people who knew the banking or foreign exchange business, but the file showed those fears were unfounded too.
When he had finished perusing the file-cards, he visited Reception and retrieved one of the cases of che
ques from the hotel's safe. In his room, he settled down to three hours work, dividing the cheques into piles of 150, placing each wad into its own plastic wallet, together with a copy of the conditions of sale and refunds that he had also printed. He had made up 50 such packages before tiredness forced him to stop. Before turning in, he phoned reception and ordered an alarm call and breakfast for 6.30 a.m. With nothing more to be done, he undressed, pulled back the covers and slipped into the bed beside Sam, taking care not to disturb her.
The night turned out to be shorter than he had hoped for when he was woken by the shrill tone of the telephone. It was 6.30 a.m. already. Sam managed to surface just before their breakfast arrived. Over breakfast, he told Sam of the day's schedule and showed her the preparations he had made the previous night.
"I do hope you're feeling fit because today's the day we sink or swim." He remarked, not quite feeling 100 per cent himself.
"Don't worry about me
... I'm fine." Sam said sleepily.
They were in the lobby by 7.30 a.m. As Sam had already paid for the conference in advance, they had only the room and extras to pay for but Pascoe still had to hand over £250 to cover expenses. After settling the bill, they split up, Sam leaving for the office by underground, while Pascoe waited for the security men to arrive.
The rest of the Easter holiday followed a similar pattern to the previous couple of days. Pascoe's one-hundred odd delegates mingled with the rest of the tourists in the city and busied themselves cashing the travelers’ cheques. For the moment, everything was going according to plan.