The Baron Group profited greatly from the post-war explosion in the American economy. Not since the twenties had it been so easy to make so much money so quickly - and by the early fifties, people were beginning to believe that this time it was going to last.
Abel was not content with financial success alone; as he grew older, he began to worry about Poland’s future, and to feel that he could no longer remain an onlooker. What had Pawel Zaleski, the Polish Consul in Turkey, said? ‘Perhaps in your lifetime you will see Poland rise again.’
Abel felt, as he watched one puppet communist government after another come into power, that he had risked his life at Remagen for nothing. He began to do everything he could to persuade the United States Congress to take a more militant attitude towards Russian control of its Eastern European satellites. He lobbied politicians, briefed journalists and organized dinners in Chicago, New York and other centres of the Polish-American community, until the Polish cause itself became synonymous with ‘The Chicago Baron’.
Dr Teodor Szymanowski, formerly professor of history at the University of Cracow, wrote a glowing editorial about Abel’s role in Poland’s ‘Fight to Be Recognized’ in the journal Freedom, which prompted Abel to get in contact with him. Aware only of the vigour of the professor’s opinions, when he was ushered into his study at Princeton Abel was surprised by his physical frailty.
Szymanowski greeted Abel warmly, and poured him a Danzig vodka without asking what he would like. ‘Baron Rosnovski,’ he said, handing him the glass. ‘I have long admired you, and your work for our cause. Although we make such little headway, you never seem to lose faith.’
‘Why should I? I’ve always believed anything is possible in America.’
‘But I fear, Baron, that the very men you are now trying to influence are the same ones who have allowed these atrocities to take place, and they will not admit that in the cold light of day.’
‘I don’t understand what you mean, Professor. Why won’t they assist us? After all, in the long run it must be in their interests.’
The professor leaned back in his chair. ‘You are surely aware, Baron, that the American armies were given specific orders in 1944 to slow down their eastward advance and allow the Russians to take control of as much of central Europe as they could lay their hands on. Patton could have marched into Berlin long before the Russians, but Eisenhower ordered him to hold back. It was our leaders in Washington - the same men you are trying to persuade to put American guns and troops back in Europe - who gave Eisenhower those orders.’
‘But they couldn’t have known how large an empire the USSR would become,’ said Abel. ‘The Russians had been our allies. I accept that we were too conciliatory towards them at the end of the war, but it surely can’t have been the Americans who betrayed the Polish people.’
Before Szymanowski spoke, he closed his eyes wearily.
‘I wish you could have known my brother, Baron. I heard only last week that he died six months ago in a Soviet camp not unlike the one from which you escaped.’
Abel was about to offer his sympathy, but Szymanowski raised a hand.
‘No, don’t say anything. You have known the camps yourself. You would be the first to realize that sympathy is not a solution. We must try to change the world while others sleep.’ Szymanowski paused. ‘My brother was sent to Russia by the Americans.’
Abel stared at him in disbelief.
‘By the Americans? How is that possible? If he was captured in Poland by Russian troops—’
‘My brother was not taken prisoner in Poland. He was liberated from a German prisoner of war camp near Frankfurt. The Americans kept him in a DP camp for a month and then handed him over to the Russians.’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘The Russians wanted all Slavs repatriated. Repatriated so they could then be exterminated or enslaved. The ones Hitler didn’t kill, Stalin did. And I can prove that my brother was in the American Sector for over a month.’
‘But,’ said Abel, ‘was he an exception, or were there others like him?’
‘There were hundreds of thousands,’ said Szymanowski without apparent emotion. ‘Perhaps as many as a million. I doubt if we will ever know the true figure. The whole evil affair was known as Operation Kee Chanl.’
‘But surely if people knew that the Americans had been sending liberated prisoners back to die in Russia, they’d be horrified.’
‘There is no proof, no official documentation. Mark Clark, like Nelson, turned a blind eye, allowing a few of the prisoners warned by sympathetic GIs to escape before the Americans could send them to the camps. One of the lucky ones was with my brother.’ The professor paused. ‘Anyway, it’s too late to do anything now.’
‘But the American people should be told. I’ll form a committee, print pamphlets, make speeches. Surely Congress will listen to us if the evidence is overwhelming.’
‘Baron Rosnovski, I think this one is too big even for you. You must understand the mentality of world leaders. The Americans agreed to hand over those poor devils because Stalin demanded it as part of an overall package. I am sure they never thought there would be trials, labour camps and executions to follow. And no one is going to admit to being indirectly responsible for the extermination of thousands of innocent people. I had rather hoped the conclusion you might come to was that you must play a more direct role in politics.’
‘I have no desire to stand for election,’ said Abel. ‘For that job you need to be a cross between Babe Ruth and Henry Fonda, and I’m more like Hopalong Cassidy. But that won’t stop me from making my voice heard, and I think I know exactly the right man to contact because he hates the communists even more than I do.’
The moment Abel was back in New York, he went straight to his office, picked up a telephone and asked his secretary to locate a man who was beginning to make a name for himself for not being afraid to sit in judgement on anybody.
Joseph McCarthy’s secretary came on the line and asked who wanted to speak to the senator. ‘I’ll see if he’s free,’ she said when she learned who it was.
‘Mr Rosenevski,’ said the unmistakable voice of the senator. Abel wondered if McCarthy had mangled his name on purpose, or if it was just a bad connection. What is this matter of grave importance you wanted to discuss with me?’ Abel hesitated. Your secrets are safe with me,’ he heard the senator say.
‘Of course,’ said Abel, collecting his thoughts. ‘You, Senator, have been a forthright spokesman for those of us who would like to see the Eastern European nations freed from the yoke of communism.’
‘I’m glad you appreciate my efforts, Rosenevski.’
This time Abel was sure McCarthy had mispronounced his name on purpose, but decided not to comment on it.
You do realize,’ the senator continued, ‘that only after the traitors have been driven from within our own government can any real action be taken to free your captive people.’
‘That’s exactly what I want to speak to you about, Senator. You’ve had brilliant success in exposing treachery within our own government. But to date, one of the communists’ greatest crimes has gone unnoticed.’
‘Just what great crime did you have in mind, Mr Rosenevski? I’ve come across so many since I arrived in Washington.’
‘I am referring’ - Abel drew himself up a little straighter in his chair - ‘to the forced repatriation of thousands of displaced Polish citizens by the American authorities after the war in Europe ended. Innocent enemies of communism were sent back to Poland and then transported to Russian camps, to be enslaved and often exterminated.’ He waited for a response, but none was forthcoming. He heard a click, and wondered if someone else had been listening to their conversation.
‘How can you be so ill informed, Rosenevski?’ said Senator McCarthy, his tone suddenly aggressive. ‘You dare to telephone me to say that Americans - loyal United States soldiers - sent thousands of your people to Russia and nobody heard a word about it? Even a Polack couldn
’t be that dumb. I have to wonder what kind of person accepts a lie like that without demanding proof. Do you expect me to believe that American soldiers are disloyal? Is that what you want? Tell me, Rosenevski, what is it with you people? Are you too blind to recognize communist propaganda even when it hits you right in the face? Do you have to waste the time of an overworked United States senator because of a rumour cooked up by the Pravda‘s Red slime simply to create unrest in America’s immigrant communities?’
Abel sat motionless, stunned by the outburst. He was glad McCarthy couldn’t see his startled face.
‘Senator, I’m sorry to have wasted your time,’ he said quietly. ‘I hadn’t thought of it in quite that way before.’
‘Well, it just goes to show you how tricky these Commie bastards can be,’ said McCarthy, his tone softening. ‘You have to keep an eye on them all the time. Anyway, I hope you’re more alert now to the real dangers the American people face.’
‘I am indeed, Senator. Thank you for taking the trouble to speak to me. Goodbye, Senator.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Rosenevski.’
The click of the phone sounded not unlike another slamming door.
44
WILLIAM BECAME aware that he was getting older when Kate teased him about his greying hair. If that wasn’t bad enough, Richard started to bring young ladies home for tea.
William almost always approved of Richard’s choices, perhaps because they were all so similar to Kate, although in his opinion she was more beautiful in middle age than any of them. Virginia and Lucy, now also teenagers, as the press was starting to describe their generation, brought him great happiness as they grew up in the image of their mother.
Virginia was developing into a talented artist, and the walls of the kitchen and the children’s bedrooms were covered in her latest works of genius, as Richard mockingly described them. Virginia’s revenge came the day Richard started taking cello lessons, when even the servants murmured uncharitable comments whenever the bow came into contact with the strings. Lucy adored them both, and considered Virginia, with uncritical prejudice, to be the next Edward Hopper, and Richard a future Casals.
In Kate’s eyes, all three of her children were just perfect. Richard soon improved enough at the cello to join the St Paul’s school orchestra, while one of Virginia’s paintings could be found hanging in the drawing room. But it became clear to all of them that Lucy was going to be the beauty of the family when, at the age of thirteen, she started receiving phone calls from boys who until then had only shown an interest in baseball and go-karts.
In 1951 Richard was offered a place at Harvard, and although he did not win the top mathematics scholarship, Kate was quick to point out to William that he had played both hockey and the cello for St Paul’s, neither of which her husband had managed. William was secretly proud of Richard’s achievements, but mumbled something about not knowing many bankers who specialized in either hockey or the cello.
Banking was now moving into an expansionist period, as Americans began to believe in a lasting peace. William found himself working hours that weren’t on the clock, and for a short time the threat of Abel Rosnovski, and the problems associated with him, faded into the background. Until …
In 1951 the Federal Aviation Administration granted a new airline company called Interstate Airways, a franchise for flights between the east and west coasts. The airline approached Lester’s Bank to help them raise the necessary $30 million on the Stock Exchange to comply with government regulations.
William believed the burgeoning airline industry was well worth supporting, and spent a considerable amount of his time setting up a public offering to raise the funds for Interstate. The bank put its full financial muscle behind the new company, and William realized that his personal reputation was at stake when he went to the market for the $30 million. The details of the offering were announced in July, and the stock was snapped up in a matter of days. William received lavish praise from all quarters for the way he had carried the project through to such a successful conclusion. He could not have been happier about the outcome, until he read in Thaddeus Cohen’s latest report that 10 per cent of the airline’s stock had been purchased by one of Abel Rosnovski’s satellite corporations.
William knew that the time had come to acquaint Ted Leach and Tony Simmons with his fears. He asked Tony to fly up to New York, where he told both vice chairmen the saga of Abel Rosnovski and Henry Osborne.
Why didn’t you tell us about all this before?’ Simmons asked.
‘I dealt with over a hundred companies the size of the Richmond Group when I was at Kane and Cabot, Tony, and many of them threatened me with some form of revenge, which I never took seriously. I only became convinced Rosnovski still harboured a grudge when he purchased six per cent of the bank’s shares from Susan Lester.’
‘Why would she be willing to dispose of her shares?’ asked Simmons.
William ignored the question. ‘I didn’t bother either of you at the time but when he picked up ten per cent of Interstate I felt—’
‘It’s possible you may be overreacting,’ said Leach. ‘And if that’s the case, it would be unwise to inform the rest of the board of your suspicions. The last thing we want a few days after launching a new company is to encourage everyone to dump their stock.’
‘I agree with Ted,’ said Simmons. ‘Perhaps the time has come for you to make a personal approach to Rosnovski, and see if you can sort out your differences?’
‘Nothing would give him more pleasure,’ snapped William. ‘That way, he’d be left in no doubt that the bank feels under siege.’
‘Don’t you think his attitude might change if he learned how hard you tried to talk the bank into backing the Richmond Group? Not forgetting that—’
‘I’m not convinced that would make any difference.’
‘So what do you think the bank should do?’ asked Leach. ‘We can’t prevent Rosnovski from buying Lester stock if he can find a willing seller. If we went in for buying our own shares, far from stopping him, we’d be playing right into his hands by pushing up the price and raising the value of his holding.’
‘And don’t forget,’ interjected Simmons, ‘that there’s nothing the Democrats would enjoy more than a banking scandal, with an election just a few months away.’
‘I hear what you say, gentlemen,’ said William, ‘but I had to let you know what Rosnovski was up to in case he springs another surprise.’
‘I suppose there’s an outside chance,’ said Simmons, ‘that the whole thing is innocent, and he simply thought Interstate was a good investment.’
‘That’s just not credible, Tony. Don’t forget that my stepfather is also involved. Why do you think Rosnovski employed Henry Osborne in the first place?’
‘Now you can’t afford to let yourself become paranoid, William. I feel sure we’ll find—’
‘Don’t become paranoid?’ barked William. ‘Try not to forget the power our Articles of Incorporation gives any shareholder who gets his hands on eight per cent of the bank’s stock - an article I originally inserted to protect myself from being removed from the board. Rosnovski already owns six per cent, and if that’s not bad enough, he could wipe out Interstate Airways overnight simply by placing all his stock on the market without warning.’
‘But he’d gain nothing from that,’ said Ted Leach. ‘On the contrary, he’d stand to lose a great deal of money.’
‘Yes, of course he’d lose money if he dumped his Interstate stock, but that wouldn’t bother him - his hotels are making record profits and he can claim against tax. As bankers, our credibility depends on the fickle confidence of the public, which Rosnovski can now shatter as and when it suits him.’
‘Calm down, William,’ said Simmons. ‘It hasn’t come to that yet. Now that we know what Rosnovski’s up to, we can keep a close eye on him. The first thing we have to do is make sure that no one else sells their stock in Lester’s without first offering it to the bank.’
‘Agreed,’ said Leach. ‘And I still think you should speak to Rosnovski personally. At least that way we’d find out what his intentions are and we could prepare ourselves accordingly.’
‘Is that also your opinion, Tony?’
‘Yes, I agree with Ted. I think you should contact Rosnovski directly, and have it out with him.’
William sat in silence for a few moments. ‘If you both feel that way, I’ll give it a try,’ he eventually said. ‘I don’t agree with you, but I may be too personally involved to make a dispassionate judgement. Give me a few days to think about how I should go about it.’
Four days later, William gave his secretary instructions that he was not to be interrupted under any circumstances. He knew that Abel Rosnovski was sitting at his desk in the New York Baron: he’d had a man posted in the lobby of the hotel all morning, whose task was to report the moment Rosnovski turned up. Rosnovski had arrived at the hotel at 7.27 a.m., gone straight up to his office on the 42nd floor and had not been seen since. William picked up his telephone and dialled the number himself.
‘New York Baron, how may I help you?’
‘Mr Rosnovski, please,’ said William nervously. He was put through to a secretary.
‘Mr Rosnovski, please,’ he repeated. This time his voice was a little steadier.
‘May I ask who is calling?’ the secretary said.
‘My name is William Kane.’
There was a long silence - or did it simply seem long to William?
‘I’ll just check to see if he’s in, Mr Kane.’
Another long silence.
‘Mr Kane?’