She calmed herself. Where would he keep the key? In the drawer of his writing table, probably. She went to the table and pulled open the drawer. In it was a book with the horrifying title of The Duchess of Sodom, which she hastily pushed to the back, and a small silver-colored key. She snatched up the key.
With a trembling hand she tried it in the lock of the cabinet. As she turned it she heard a bolt click, and a moment later the door opened.
She breathed deeply and waited until her hands stopped shaking.
Then she began to remove the boxes from the shelves.
Chapter FOUR
DECEMBER
Section 1
THE PILASTER CRASH was the society scandal of the year. The cheap newspapers reported every development breathlessly: the sale of the great Kensington mansions; the auctions of the paintings, antique furniture, and cases of port; the cancellation of Nick and Dotty's planned six-month honeymoon in Europe; and the modest suburban houses where the proud and mighty Pilasters now peeled potatoes for themselves and washed their own undergarments.
Hugh and Nora rented a small house with a garden in Chingford, a village nine miles from London. They left all their servants behind, but a muscular fourteen-year-old girl from a nearby farm came in the afternoons to scrub floors and wash windows. Nora, who had not done housework for twelve years, took it very badly, and shuffled about in a grubby apron, halfheartedly sweeping floors and preparing indigestible dinners, complaining constantly. The boys liked it better than London because they could play in the woods. Hugh traveled into the City every day by train and continued to go to the bank, where his work consisted of disposing of Pilasters' assets on behalf of the syndicate.
Each partner received a small monthly allowance from the bank. In theory they were not entitled to anything. But the syndicate members were bankers just like the Pilasters, and in their hearts they thought There but for the grace of God go I. Besides, the cooperation of the partners was helpful in selling off the assets, and it was worth a small payment to retain their goodwill.
Hugh watched the progress of the civil war in Cordova with an anxious heart. The outcome would determine how much money the syndicate would lose. Hugh badly wanted them to make a profit. He wanted one day to be able to say that no one had lost money rescuing Pilasters Bank. But the possibility seemed remote.
At first the Miranda faction seemed set to win the war. By all accounts their attack was well planned and bloodily executed. President Garcia was forced to flee the capital and take refuge in the fortified city of Campanario, in the south, his home region. Hugh was dispirited. If the Mirandas won they would run Cordova like a private kingdom, and would never pay interest on loans made to the previous regime; and Cordova bonds would be worthless for the foreseeable future.
But then came an unexpected development. Tonio's family, the Silvas, who for some years had been the mainstay of the small and ineffectual liberal opposition, joined in the fighting on the president's side, in return for promises of free elections and land reform when the president regained control. Hugh's hopes rose again.
The revitalized presidential army won a lot of popular support and fought the usurpers to a standstill. The forces were evenly balanced. So were the financial resources: the Mirandas had spent their war chest on a fierce all-out initial assault. The north had nitrate mines and the south had silver, but neither side could get its exports financed or insured, since Pilasters was no longer in business and no other banks would take on a customer who might vanish tomorrow.
Both sides appealed to the British government for recognition, in the hope that it would help them get credit. Micky Miranda, still officially the Cordovan Minister in London, furiously lobbied Foreign Office officials, government ministers and members of Parliament, pressing for Papa Miranda to be recognized as the new president. But so far the prime minister, Lord Salisbury, refused to favor either side.
Then Tonio Silva arrived in London.
He turned up at Hugh's suburban home on Christmas Eve. Hugh was in the kitchen, giving the boys hot milk and buttered toast for breakfast. Nora was still getting dressed: she was going into London to do her Christmas shopping, although she would have very little money to spend. Hugh had agreed to stay at home and take care of the boys: there was nothing urgent for him to do at the bank today.
He answered the doorbell himself, an experience that reminded him of the old days with his mother in Folkestone. Tonio had grown a beard and moustache, no doubt to hide the scars of the beating he had been given by Micky's thugs eleven years earlier; but Hugh instantly recognized the carrot-colored hair and reckless grin. It was snowing, and there was a dusting of white on Tonio's hat and the shoulders of his coat.
Hugh took his old friend into the kitchen and gave him tea. 'How did you find me?' he asked.
'It wasn't easy,' Tonio replied. 'There was no one at your old house and the bank was closed. But I went to Whitehaven House and saw your aunt Augusta. She hasn't changed. She didn't know your address, but she remembered Chingford. The way she said the name, it sounded like a prison camp, like Van Diemen's Land.'
Hugh nodded. 'It's not so bad. The boys are fine. Nora finds it hard.'
'Augusta hasn't moved house.'
'No. She's more to blame than anyone else for the mess we're in. Yet she of all of them is the one who refuses to accept reality. She'll find out that there are worse places than Chingford.'
'Cordova, for instance,' said Tonio.
'How is it?'
'My brother was killed in the fighting.'
'I'm sorry.'
'The war has reached a stalemate. Everything depends on the British government now. The side that wins recognition will be able to get credit, resupply its army, and overrun the opposition. That's why I'm here.'
'Have you been sent by President Garcia?'
'Better than that. I am now officially the Cordovan Minister in London. Miranda has been dismissed.'
'Splendid!' Hugh was pleased that at last Micky had been sacked. It had irked him to see a man who had stolen two million pounds from him walking around London, going to clubs and theatres and dinner parties as if nothing had happened.
Tonio added: 'I brought letters of accreditation with me and lodged them at the Foreign Office yesterday.'
'And you're hoping to persuade the prime minister to support your side.'
'Yes.'
Hugh looked at him quizzically. 'How?'
'Garcia is the president--Britain ought to support the legitimate government.'
That was a bit feeble, Hugh thought. 'We haven't so far.'
'I shall just tell the prime minister that you should.'
'Lord Salisbury is busy trying to keep the lid on a boiling cauldron in Ireland--he's got no time for a distant South American civil war.' Hugh did not mean to sound negative, but an idea was forming in
