a card game with Edward and Micky. He had left the country in disgrace at about the same time as Hugh. What had happened to him since? Full of curiosity, Hugh went straight to the coffeehouse.
He found an older, shabbier, more subdued Tonio, sitting in a corner reading The Times. He still had a shock of carrot-colored hair, but otherwise there was nothing left of the mischievous schoolboy or the profligate young man. Although he was only Hugh's age, twenty-six, there were already tiny lines of worry around his eyes.
'I made a big success of Boston,' Hugh said in answer to Tonio's first question. 'I came back in January. But now I'm having trouble with my damned family all over again. How about you?'
'There have been a lot of changes in my country. My family is not as influential as it once was. We still control Milpita, the provincial city we come from, but in the capital others have come between us and President Garcia.'
'Who?'
'The Miranda faction.'
'Micky's family?'
'Absolutely. They took over the nitrate mines in the north of the country and that has made them rich. They also monopolize trade with Europe, because of their connection with your family's bank.'
Hugh was surprised. 'I knew Edward was doing a lot of business with Cordova, but I didn't realize it was all going through Micky. Still, I don't suppose it matters.'
'But it does,' said Tonio. He took a sheaf of papers from inside his coat. 'Take a minute to read this. It's an article I've written for. The Times.'
Hugh took the manuscript and began to read. It was a description of conditions at a nitrate mine owned by the Mirandas. Because the trade was financed by Pilasters Bank, Tonio held the bank responsible for the ill-treatment of the miners. At first Hugh was unmoved: long hours, poor wages and child labor were features of mines all over the world. But as he read on he saw this was worse. At the Miranda mines, the overseers were armed with 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 The Times liked to publish. There would be speeches in Parliament and letters in the weekly journals. The social conscience of businessmen, many of whom were Methodists, would make them hesitate before getting involved with Pilasters. It would all be extremely bad for the bank.
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.'
