Page 146 of Atlas: The Story of Pa Salt
Marina pursed her lips. ‘I don’t need your pity, monsieur.’
‘You don’t have it, merely the offer of assistance should you want it.’
She looked me in the eye. ‘I’ve heard about men like you, coming in and promising the world. Girls leave with them, and then are treated as property. I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.’
I was mortified to hear of such a thing. ‘No, Marina. It’s nothing like that. Your grandmother – your father’s mother – loved you very much. She didn’t die before you were born.In fact, she was desperate to meet you, but your mother didn’t want that. I think perhaps that she was jealous.’
Marina held my gaze for a while, before returning her attention to the baby. ‘I can believe it.’
‘Evelyn was once very, very kind to me. And I should like to repay the favour, in any way I can. Marina, what do you need? If it’s money, or a listening ear, I can help with both.’
The young woman rolled her eyes. ‘I am not naive enough to think that there are no strings attached here, monsieur. I definitely do not want your money.’
Short of other options, I pushed on. ‘I am just a friend, here to help... and, yes, to repay a great debt I owe.’ Suddenly, a portly man – bright red in the face and dripping with sweat – stomped down the stairs, tipping his hat at Marina as he left. Following him was a tall, slender woman with red hair and fishnet tights.
‘Eurgh, he stank,’ she said to Marina when he was out of earshot. ‘Hello, little one! Were you good for Auntie Ma?’ she went on, taking the baby from Marina’s hands.
‘He was as good as gold. He’s so adorable, Celine.’
‘He’s a terror is what he is, aren’t you, little one?’ she said, giving her baby a tender kiss on the forehead. ‘Here.’ She reached into her pockets and gave Marina some francs. ‘Your cut.’
‘Thank you, Celine.’
Celine eyed me. ‘Got yourself a customer, have you, Ma? You’re very lucky, sir. You’re the first she’s accepted in weeks.’
‘Celine, please,’ Ma replied coyly.
‘There’s no shame in it. Ma mainly runs a crèche service back here, don’t you? There’s a few of us with little ones. She looks after them whilst we make our money.’
I nodded. ‘That’s very good of her to do.’
Celine laughed. ‘She loves it. I don’t know why you don’t become a babysitter, Ma!’
‘No one would want me,’ she whispered.
The large man in the leather jacket entered the club, walked over and nodded at Celine.
‘Another already,’ she groaned. ‘It’s my lucky night.’ Celine handed the baby back to Marina, and returned upstairs.
‘Marina, I won’t impose upon you any longer. But trust me, I am here to help.’ I reached into my pocket. Here’s a card with the details of my friend Georg. Call the number any time, and he’ll put you through to me.’ Marina nodded, before devoting her attention to Celine’s child, which she looked at with so much love. I walked out of Le Lézard praying she would one day make contact.
Upon my return to Geneva, I instructed Georg Hoffman to liaise with a law firm in Rio de Janeiro, so that I might receive regular updates on Beatriz Aires-Cabral and her daughter. He was most perplexed when I made the request of him, but was as obliging as ever when I spoke with him at the offices of the newly named Schweikart & Hoffman on the Rue du Rhône.
‘I am happy to arrange this for you, Atlas, but I wonder if it is the most efficient use of funds. It would be infinitely cheaper for you to fly out to Brazil once or twice a year, so that you might look into things personally.’
‘Thank you for your concern, Georg, but I was instructed to keep my distance. Plus, there is no shortage of cash in the coffers, is there?’
Georg chuckled. ‘No. In fact, I received a phone call from our New York stockbroker this morning. Your investments are growing at an unprecedented rate.’ He took a notepad out from the top drawer of Kohler’s old desk. ‘Telex, ControlData, Teledyne, University Computing, Itek... technology is booming. The pot is growing and growing.’ He passed me his notes for me to examine.
‘And there you were, Georg, trying to convince me to put my money into gold and silver.’
His cheeks reddened. ‘Yes. I’m afraid my instincts for the financials are not yet as strong as they could be.’
‘Neither are mine, my young friend. You know why I invest in technology.’ I sank into the chair opposite Georg. It was still a little odd to see him occupy the room once inhabited by Eric Kohler.
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘In the hope it might one day help us to find Elle.’
‘Precisely,’ I said, pointing my finger at him for emphasis. ‘As safe as gold may be, it cannot provide me with computer databases and global tracking equipment.’ I shrugged. ‘Even if my stocks make no return, it is better to give clever people my millions to advance the landscape.’
