The Gordian Knot - Bernhard Schlink [80]
“Who?”
“I’ll get to that in a moment. First, I’d like to show you what my cousin has given me. Does this mean anything to you?” Georg took a can of film out of his bag and put it on Buchanan’s desk. “Feel free to open it and have a look.”
Buchanan put on his glasses, opened the can, took out the negatives, held them up in front of the window, and slowly unfurled them. “Yes, this does mean something to me.”
“I am to ask if you are prepared to pay for the pertinent background information. My cousin intends to defect to the West—next year, or the year after—and could do with a nest egg. He would inform you when he finds out who the American seller is and has proof. Perhaps he can even arrange a meeting and call you on short notice.”
“All I can say is that this is a very strange story,” Buchanan said, puckering his lips and rubbing his chin.
“I’m aware of that, as is my cousin. But there’s no risk for you. At worst, it would be a waste of your time, at best you could—for a price we still have to discuss—locate and secure a hole in your system. By the way, here’s something my cousin told me to give you.” Georg took two photocopies out of his bag and placed them in front of Buchanan. They were identical, except for the lower right side where on one copy was Mermoz’s double-decker logo, barely visible, and on the other, the Gorgefield airplane circling the world.
“And why, if I might ask, would I want two copies of the same thing?”
“I have no idea,” Georg said, leaning back in his chair. “So what do you say?”
“You mean about the money?”
“Yes.”
Buchanan shrugged his shoulders. “What sum does your cousin have in mind?”
“He says that the whole set is on sale for thirty million,” Georg replied, taking the negatives from the desk, rolling them up, and putting them back in the can. “He doesn’t want that much from you, since he says you’ve already paid. He’s thinking one million.”
“Just a lousy million, because we’re supposed to have already paid a lousy thirty?” Buchanan again rubbed his chin. “That doesn’t add up. Why would your cousin tell us what we need to know with nothing but a promise from me to you that he’ll be paid? What court in the world could he turn to to get his million?”
“He’ll turn to the press. If you don’t pay, he’ll sell his story to the papers. He thinks that isn’t an option you’d be particularly pleased with.”
“So that’s what he thinks? Well, tell your cousin we’ll pay the million.” He looked at Georg warily. “Or should we first of all focus on you?”
“What more do you want to know?”
“I know you’ve told us everything that this cousin of yours has commissioned you to tell us, and that you don’t know more. But perhaps you’re not your cousin’s cousin after all, but your cousin in person: the only cousin in this game. Or if your cousin does exist, perhaps you can give us a bit more background. I imagine you and he must be in contact. Might your cousin in fact be your uncle?” Buchanan looked at Georg sharply.
Georg laughed. “If I don’t have a cousin, how could I be a cousin myself? But jokes aside, why would I want to play charades? As for my being in contact with him, the way it works is that he calls me.”
Buchanan raised his hands and slapped them against the desk. “Damn! Do you know what happened to me this morning? I gave away the wrong puppy. My golden retriever had a litter, and six pups are more than I can handle. I wanted to keep one, but, believe it or not, by mistake I gave away the one I wanted to keep.”
“So why don’t you ask for it back?”
“Ask for it back? Ask for it back? I gave it to my boss. Am I supposed to tell him the puppy’s too good for him? That he can have one of the others?”
Georg got up. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. Good luck with the puppy.”
“You don’t seem to give a damn about what happens to the puppy,