whips and guns, and they used them freely to enforce discipline. Laborers — including women and children — were flogged for being too slow, and if they tried to leave before they had worked out their contracts they could be shot. Tonio had eyewitness accounts of such “executions.”
Hugh was horrified. “But this is murder!” he said.
“Exactly.”
“Doesn’t your president know about it?”
“He knows. But the Mirandas are his favorites now.”
“And your own family …”
“Once upon a time we could have put a stop to it. Now it takes all our effort to retain control of our own province.”
Hugh was mortified to think his own family and their bank were financing such a brutal industry, but for a moment he tried to put aside his feelings and think coolly about consequences. The article Tonio had written was just the kind of material
Do I care? thought Hugh. The bank had treated him badly and he was about to leave it. But despite that, he could not ignore this problem. He was still an employee, he would draw his salary at the end of the month, and he owed Pilasters his loyalty at least until then. He had to do something.
What did Tonio want? The fact that he was showing Hugh the article before publishing it suggested that he wanted to make a deal. “What’s your objective?” Hugh asked him. “Do you want us to stop financing the nitrate trade?”
Tonio shook his head. “If Pilasters pulled out, someone else would take over — another bank with a thicker hide. No, we must be more subtle.”
“You’ve got something specific in mind.”
“The Mirandas are planning a railway.”
“Ah, yes. The Santamaria railroad.”
“That railway will make Papa Miranda the wealthiest and most powerful man in the country, excepting only the president. And Papa Miranda is a brute. I want the railway stopped.”
“And that’s why you’re going to publish this article.”
“Several articles. And I’ll hold meetings, make speeches, lobby members of Parliament, and try to get an appointment with the foreign secretary: anything to undermine the financing of this railway.”
It might work, too, Hugh thought. Investors would shy away from anything controversial. It struck him that Tonio had changed a lot, from the young tearaway who couldn’t stop gambling into the sober adult who campaigned against ill-treatment of miners. “So why have you come to me?”
“We could shortcut the process. If the bank decides not to underwrite the railway bonds, I won’t publish the article. That way, you avoid a great deal of unpleasant publicity and I get what I want too.” Tonio gave an embarrassed smile. “I hope you don’t think of this as blackmail. It is a bit crude, I know, but nowhere near as crude as flogging children in a nitrate mine.”
Hugh shook his head. “Not crude at all. I admire your crusading spirit. The consequences for the bank don’t affect me directly — I’m about to resign.”
“Really!” Tonio was astonished. “Why?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another time. However, the upshot is that all I can do is tell the partners that you’ve approached me with this proposition. They can decide how they feel about it and what they want to do. I’m quite sure they won’t ask my opinion.” He was still holding Tonio’s manuscript. “May I keep this?”
“Yes. I have a copy.”
The sheets of paper bore the letterhead of the Hotel Russe, Berwick Street, Soho. Hugh had never heard of it: it was not one of London’s fancy establishments. “I’ll let you know what the partners say.”
“Thank you.” Tonio changed the subject. “I’m sorry our conversation has been all business. Let’s get together and talk about the old days.”
“You must meet my wife.”
“I’d love to.”
“I’ll get in touch.” Hugh left the coffeehouse and walked back to the bank. When he looked at the big clock in the banking hall he was surprised it was not yet one o’clock: so much had happened this morning. He went straight to the Partners’ Room, where he found Samuel, Joseph and Edward. He handed Tonio’s article to Samuel, who read it and passed it on to Edward.
Edward became apoplectic with rage and was unable to finish it. He went red in the face, pointed his finger at Hugh and said: “You’ve cooked this up with your old school friend! You’re trying to undermine our entire South American business! You’re just jealous of me because you weren’t made a partner!”
Hugh understood why he was so hysterical. The South American trade was Edward’s only significant contribution to business. If that went he was useless. Hugh sighed. “You were Bonehead Ned at school, and you still are,” he said. “The question is whether the bank wants to be responsible for increasing the power and influence of Papa Miranda, a man who apparently thinks nothing of flogging women and murdering children.”
“I don’t believe that!” Edward said. “The Silva family are enemies of the Mirandas. This is just malicious propaganda.”
“I’m sure that’s what your friend Micky will say. But is it true?”
Uncle Joseph looked suspiciously at Hugh. “You came in here just a few hours ago and tried to talk me out of this issue. I have to wonder whether this whole thing isn’t some scheme to undermine Edward’s first major piece of business as a partner.”
Hugh stood up. “If you’re going to cast doubt on my good faith I’ll leave right away.”
Uncle Samuel stepped in. “Sit down, Hugh,” he said. “We don’t have to find out whether this tale is true or not. We’re bankers, not judges. The fact that the Santamaria railroad is going to be controversial makes the bond issue riskier, and that means we have to reconsider.”
Uncle Joseph said aggressively: “I’m not willing to be bullied. Let this South American popinjay publish his article and go to the devil.”
“That’s one way to handle it,” Samuel mused, treating Joseph’s belligerence more seriously than it deserved. “We can wait and see what effect the article has on the price of existing South American stocks: there aren’t many, but it’s enough to serve as a gauge. If they crash, we’ll cancel the Santamaria railroad. If not, we go ahead.”
Joseph, somewhat mollified, said: “I don’t mind submitting to the decision of the market.”
“There is one other option we might consider,” Samuel went on. “We could get another bank to come in with us on the issue of bonds, and float it jointly. That way, any hostile publicity would be enfeebled by having a divided target.”
That made a lot of sense, Hugh thought. It was not what he would have done: he would prefer to cancel the bond issue. But the strategy worked out by Samuel would minimize the risk, and that was what banking was all about. Samuel was a much better banker than Joseph.
“All right,” Joseph said with his usual impulsiveness. “Edward, see if you can find us a partner.”
“Who should I approach?” Edward said anxiously. Hugh realized he had no idea how to go about something like this.
Samuel answered him. “It’s a big issue. On reflection, not many banks would want such a big exposure to South America. You should go to Greenbournes: they might be the only people big enough to take the risk. You know Solly Greenbourne, don’t you?”
“Yes. I’ll see him.”
Hugh wondered whether he should advise Solly to turn Edward down, and immediately thought better of it: he was being hired as an expert on North America, and it would seem presumptuous if he started out by passing judgment on a completely different area. He decided to have one more try at persuading Uncle Joseph to cancel the issue completely. “Why don’t we just wash our hands of the Santamaria railroad?” he said. “It’s low-grade business. The risk has always been high, and now we’re threatened with bad publicity on top. Do we need this?”
Edward said petulantly: “The partners have made their decision and it’s not for you to question them.”
