“Those are both good ideas,” said Alzheimer. “I’m beginning to wonder why we didn’t think to employ an ex-detective in the claims department before now. Are you a religious man, Herr Ganz?”
“Not really, no.”
“Good. Because that enables me to speak freely. As a businessman it always seems to me that every company needs its own Jesus. Not necessarily the man in charge but another man who gets things done, who works miracles, if you like. I’m beginning to think that you could be such a man, Herr Ganz. Wouldn’t you say so, Philipp?”
“I would, sir.”
“I was just doing my job.”
But Alzheimer was not to be denied his opportunity to talk and to be generous. “We should find some way of rewarding his vigilance, Philipp. But for him this company should be poorer to the tune of twenty thousand deutschmarks. Not to mention the fact that we would still be employing a murderer in sales.”
“I agree, sir. Perhaps a raise in pay.”
“By all means a raise in pay. Let’s say another five marks a week. And since Friedrich Jauch is no longer employed by us, let us also reward Herr Ganz by giving him the man’s company car. Plus expenses. How does that sound, Herr Ganz? I take it you can drive.”
“Yes, I can drive. And thank you. A car would be very welcome. Especially in this weather.”
We all looked at the window and at the snow that was once more blowing through the gray air outside; through the glass it looked like interference on a poorly tuned television set. But the thought of not having to walk or catch a tram to work again filled me and my shoe leather with joy.
“And tell me, do you speak any other languages?”
“Russian, French—fluently, English, and a bit of Spanish.”
“You don’t speak Greek, I suppose.”
“No.”
“Pity. Because I do believe a working holiday in Greece might also be in order. As a reward of sorts, for work very well done. It will be an opportunity for you to stay in a nice hotel and in a more agreeable climate. Perhaps even to enjoy yourself for a couple of days. We were thinking you might perform a routine investigative service for MRE at the same time. You may or may not know that one of our more important business sectors is in marine insurance. However, Walther Neff—our leading average adjustor—has been taken ill. Like I say, it’s a routine matter, more or less. A German vessel, the Doris, was lost off the coast of Greece after catching fire. We have a local man, Achilles Garlopis, who knows about ships and who will do most of the actual donkeywork, of course. And Dietrich will tell you what else has to be done, in detail. But we do urgently need someone to go down there to check out a few things—such as if the owner has appointed his own general average adjustor, if we’re looking at an actual total loss or a constructive total loss—to ensure that everything proceeds smoothly and according to our own guidelines, and to authorize any expenditure, of course, pending a final settlement. Someone trustworthy. Someone German.”
“Sir, the one thing I know about ships is that it only takes a small leak to sink a large one. After the Titanic and the Gustloff, I’m amazed that anyone will insure them at all.”
“That’s why the marine insurance business makes so much money. The larger the risk, the bigger the premium. Besides, it’s not ships that are giving us any cause for concern here, Herr Ganz, it’s the Greeks themselves. The plain fact of the matter is that when it comes to matters involving money—our money—the Greeks are not to be relied upon. These goat bangers are probably the most profligate race in Europe. With them, lying and dishonesty are ingrained habits. When Odysseus finally returns to Ithaca, so accustomed is he to lying that he lies to his own wife, Penelope, he lies to his elderly father, he even lies to the goddess Athena. And she herself is no less glibly tongued. They simply can’t help it. The possibilities for fraud are endless. But with a man with a keen eye such as yourself, MRE stands a good chance of adjusting this claim to our satisfaction.”
He refilled my glass with Canadian Club, only this time not as much, as if he’d already judiciously calculated my limit, which was more than I’d ever done myself; still, I thought it was nice to know he was looking out for my welfare. But later on, to celebrate my promotion, I bought a whole bottle of the stuff to celebrate and found out exactly why this whiskey was called Canadian Club.
“These are interesting times,” said Alzheimer, sitting on the edge of his desk in a way that made me think I was expected to listen. “MRE is expanding into Europe thanks to this new treaty Adenauer and Hallstein are about to sign in Rome in a few weeks’ time. It will result in the progressive reduction of customs duties throughout a new economic trading area comprising Belgium, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, West Germany, and France—so I think your French will be useful. Of course, the French think they are to become the dominant force in Europe but, as time will prove, their ridiculous attempts to maintain their ragged colonies in Algeria and Indochina will be a great disadvantage to them economically. This will leave modern Germany very much in the driving seat. Again. And all of this done without an army this time. Just some new European laws. Which will be a nice change, don’t you think? And very much cheaper for all concerned.”
I could raise my glass to that, just about. I supposed the treaty of wherever it was could
