Kane and Abel Read online

  An insulting suggestion, thought William, but it had to be said.

  The sort of thing a banker would expect a man to do, walk away the moment a problem arose, thought Abel.

  William continued. ‘Until the two-million-dollar debt to the bank is cleared, I’m afraid we must consider the estate of the late Mr Leroy insolvent. We at the bank appreciate your personal involvement with the group, and we have done nothing about disposing of the hotels until we had the opportunity to speak to you in person. We thought it possible you might know of some party interested in the purchase of the property, as the buildings, the land and the business are obviously a valuable asset.’

  ‘But not valuable enough for the bank to consider backing me,’ said Abel. He ran his hand wearily through his thick, dark hair. William didn’t respond. ‘How long will you give me to find a buyer?’

  William hesitated for a moment when he saw the silver band around Abel Rosnovski’s wrist. He had seen that band somewhere before, but he couldn’t recall where.

  ‘Thirty days. You must understand that the bank is carrying the day-to-day losses on ten of the eleven hotels. Only the Chicago Richmond is currently showing a small profit.’

  ‘If you would give me enough time, Mr Kane, I could turn all the hotels into profitable concerns. I know I could. Just give me the chance to prove I can do it, sir.’ Abel felt the last word sticking in his throat.

  ‘Mr Leroy assured the bank that you were worth backing when he came to visit me last fall,’ said William. ‘But these are hard times. There’s no telling if the hotel trade will pick up, and we are not hoteliers, Mr Rosnovski, we’re bankers.’

  Abel was beginning to lose his temper with this smoothly dressed ‘young puppy’. ‘They’ll be even harder times for my hotel staff,’ he said. ‘What will they do if you sell off the roof from over their heads? What do you imagine will happen to them?’

  ‘I’m afraid they are not our responsibility, Mr Rosnovski. I must act in the bank’s best interests.’

  ‘Don’t you mean in your best interests, Mr Kane?’ said Abel sharply.

  The banker flushed. ‘That was an unjust remark, Mr Rosnovski, and I would greatly resent it if I did not understand what you are going through.’

  ‘Too bad you didn’t show some understanding for Mr Leroy,’ said Abel. ‘You killed him, Mr Kane, just as surely as if you pushed him out of that window yourself. You and your “wash your hands” colleagues, sitting here in your smart offices while we sweat our guts out so you can rake it in when times are good, and rub our faces in the dirt when times are bad.’

  William, too, was becoming angry, but unlike Abel he did not show it. ‘This line of discussion is getting us nowhere, Mr Rosnovski. I must warn you that if you are unable to find a buyer for the group within thirty days, I shall have no choice but to put the hotels up for auction on the open market.’

  ‘You’ll be advising me to ask another bank for a loan next,’ said Abel sarcastically. ‘You know my record and you won’t back me, so why should anyone else take the risk?’

  ‘What you choose to do now is entirely up to you, Mr Rosnovski. My board’s instructions are simply to dispose of the assets and wind up the account as quickly as possible, and that is what I intend to do. Perhaps you would be kind enough to contact me no later than’ - he glanced at his diary - ‘February fourth to let me know whether you have had any success in finding a buyer. Good day, Mr Rosnovski.’

  William rose from behind the desk, and again offered his hand. This time Abel ignored it.

  He walked to the door, but paused before leaving the office. ‘I thought after the death of Davis Leroy, Mr Kane, you might feel embarrassed enough to offer a helping hand. I was wrong. Your only interest is the bottom line, but when you go to bed at night, Mr Kane, be sure to think about me. When you wake up in the morning, think about me again, because I’ll never stop thinking about my plans for you.’

  William stood frowning at the closed door. That silver band bothered him - where had he seen it before?

  His secretary entered the room. ‘What a dreadful little man,’ she said.

  ‘No, not really,’ said William. ‘He thinks we were responsible for the death of his business partner, and that we’re now dissolving his company without any thought for his employees, not to mention himself, when he has actually proved to be rather good at his job. Mr Rosnovski was remarkably polite given the circumstances. I’m sorry the board didn’t take my advice and back him.’ William sat down in his chair, suddenly feeling exhausted.

  29

  ABEL ARRIVED back in Chicago later that evening, still furious with his treatment at the hands of William Kane. He didn’t catch exactly what the boy was shouting at the corner newsstand as he hailed a cab and climbed into the back seat.

  ‘The Richmond Hotel, please.’

  ‘Are you from the newspapers?’ asked the driver as he moved out onto State Street.

  ‘No. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Oh, only because you asked for the Richmond and the place is swarming with journalists.’

  Abel couldn’t remember any functions scheduled for the Richmond which might attract the press.

  The driver continued: ‘If you’re not a newspaperman, maybe I should take you to another hotel.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Abel, even more puzzled.

  ‘Well, you won’t have a very good night’s sleep if you’re booked in there.’

  ‘Why not?’ demanded Abel.

  ‘Because the Richmond has been burned to the ground.’

  They turned the corner of Drake Street, and Abel was faced head on with the smouldering shell of the Chicago Richmond Hotel. There were police cars, fire engines, charred wood and water flooding the street, while onlookers craned their necks from behind a barrier. Abel stared at the scorched remains of Davis Leroy’s flagship.

  ‘That’ll be two dollars,’ said the taxi driver.

  The Pole is wise when the damage is done, thought Abel as he clenched his fist and started banging on his lame leg. He felt no pain - there was nothing left to feel.

  ‘You bastards!’ he shouted aloud. ‘I’ve been lower than this before, and I’ll still beat every one of you. Germans, Russians, Turks, that bastard Kane, and now this. Everyone. I’ll beat you all. Nobody kills Abel Rosnovski.’

  The assistant manager saw Abel gesticulating by the cab and ran over to him. Abel forced himself to be calm.

  ‘Did everybody get out safely?’ were Abel’s first words.

  ‘Yes, thank God. The hotel was nearly empty, and luckily the fire started in the middle of the afternoon, so getting everybody out wasn’t a great problem. There were one or two minor injuries and burns - three people were taken to Chicago General - but there’s nothing for you to worry about on that count.’

  ‘Good, that’s a relief. Thank God the hotel was well insured - over a million, if I remember. We may yet be able to turn this disaster to our advantage.’

  ‘Not if what they’re suggesting in today’s papers is true.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Abel.

  ‘I’d rather you read it for yourself, boss.’

  Abel walked over to the nearby newsstand and paid the boy two cents for the latest edition of the Chicago Tribune.

  The banner headline told it all: RICHMOND HOTEL BLAZE - ARSON SUSPECTED.

  Abel shook his head incredulously. ‘Can anything else go wrong?’ he muttered.

  ‘Got yourself a problem?’ the newsboy asked.

  ‘A little one,’ said Abel, and returned to his assistant manager.

  ‘Who’s in charge of the police inquiry?’

  ‘That officer over there, leaning on the patrol car,’ said the assistant manager, pointing to a prematurely balding man with deep sunken eyes. ‘His name’s Lieutenant O’Malley.’

  ‘It would be,’ said Abel. ‘Tell the staff I’ll see them all in the annexe at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. If anybody wants me before then, I’ll be staying at the Stevens.’