banks that all moneys withdrawn previously. Generally within four weeks of deposit. Two banks, London and The Hague, report sums of twenty-six thousand and nineteen thousand, respectively, remain on deposit.
This was the chronological order of events relative to Ulster's disappearance. The design was there. Premeditation of the whole sequence was apparent: the reservations made in February; the short engagement; the honeymoon tour; the constant deposits and prompt withdrawals; the removal of the securities and the final act of Ulster's disappearance itself. From February, 1925, to April, 1926. A plan conceived for fourteen months and executed with enormous precision, even to the point of assuring pregnancy, if Janet was to be believed. Was Ulster capable of such ingenuity? Elizabeth did not know.
She really knew very little about him and the endless reports served only to cloud his image. For the person this research analyzed was seemingly capable of nothing save self-indulgence.
She knew there was only one place to start the search. Europe. The banks. Not all, she rationalized, but several. For regardless of the complexities of growth and the excesses of diversification, the fundamental practice of banking had remained constant since the time of the pharaohs. You put money in and you took money out. And whether for necessity or for pleasure the money withdrawn went someplace else. It was that other place, or those other places, that Elizabeth wanted to find. For it was this money, the money that Waterman Trust sent to the sixteen European banks, which would be used until such time as the securities might be sold.
At ten minutes to nine the butler opened the front door for Waterman Trust Company's newest second vice-president, Jefferson Cartwright. He showed Cartwright into the library where Elizabeth sat behind the desk with the inevitable cup of coffee in her hand.
Jefferson Cartwright sat on the small chair in front of the desk aware that it flatteringly accentuated his size. He put his briefcase by his side.
'Did you bring the letters?'
'I have them right here, Madame Scarlatti,' answered the banker, lifting the briefcase to his lap and opening it. 'May I take this opportunity to thank you for your kind intercession on my behalf at the office. It certainly was most generous of you.'
'Thank you. I understand you've been made second vice-president.'
That's correct ma'am, and I do believe the good word from you made it possible. I thank you again.' He handed Elizabeth the papers.
She took them and started scanning the top pages. They seemed to be in order. In fact, they were excellent.
Cartwright spoke quietly. 'The letters authorize you to receive all information regardin' any transactions made by your son, Ulster Stewart Scarlett, at the various banks. Deposits, withdrawals, transferals. They request access to all safety deposit boxes where they may exist. A coverin' letter has been sent to each bank with a photostat of your signature. I've signed these in my capacity as representin' Waterman's collective power of attorney for Mr Scarlett. By doin' it, of course, I've taken a considerable risk.'
'I congratulate you.'
'It's simply incredible,' the banker said quietly. 'Securities worth over two hundred and seventy million dollars. Missin', unaccounted for. Just floatin' around somewhere. Who knows where? Even the largest bankin' syndicates have trouble raisin' such capital. Oh, it's a crisis, ma'am! Especially in a highly speculative market. I honestly don't know what to do.'
'It's possible that by keeping your own counsel you'll spend many years drawing a remarkable salary for very little effort. Conversely, it's also possible - '
'I think I know what the other possibility is,' interrupted Jefferson Cartwright. 'As I see it, you're lookin' for information connected with the disappearance of your child. You may find it, if it exists. You may not. In either case, there're twelve months remainin' before the first of the bonds will be missed. Twelve months. Some of us might not be on God's good earth then. Others of us could be facin' ruin.'
'Are you forecasting my demise?'
'I certainly hope not. But my own position is most delicate. I've violated the policies of my firm and the basic ethics of the bankin' business. As your son's financial adviser, the aspect of collusion will be raised - '
'And you'd feel more comfortable with a settlement, is that it?' Elizabeth put down the letters, angry with this ungrateful Southerner. 'I bribe you and you proceed to blackmail me on the strength of my bribe. It's clever strategy. How much?'
'I'm sorry I make such a poor impression. I don't want a settlement. That'd