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was a dwarf of around four feet two inches, including the obvious lifts built
into his shoes. Like others in his predicament, Saal made up for his lack of
inches by a cheerful, even ebullient, manner. He greeted Bond with a firm
handshake, and very quickly it became obvious that his height in no way
affected his voice, charm, or business acumen. Returning to his desk, Saal
pushed two folders toward him. They were both of moderately sized estates
though one was a working farm and for the next half hour or so they
discussed the possibilities.
Eventually, Bond said that what his consortium was really looking for was a
place the size of he went through a show of looking up the name in a
notebook Tarnenwerder, which he was under the impression had been left to
wrack and ruin.
Saal shook his head sagely. "Tarnenwerder," he said without the hint of a
smile, "is something else altogether. To be truthful, Mr. Boldman, I'd rather
not discuss it."
"I understood that you had dealings with that particular property."
"No. No, I personally have no dealings with it. My brother, and our father
before us, deals with Tarnenwerder. In fact, the place has been on our books
for many generations. If I had my way, we would have passed it to another firm
decades ago, but I fear that I rarely get my way in this company. You see,
it's the only thing my brother Helmut deals with, and we have not spoken for
twenty years on account of it." He gave a sad little laugh. "I would have left
this firm years ago if it hadn't been for our strange legal position. No male
of the Saal or Rollen family is allowed by our company articles to leave the
firm, except, of course, in the event of death."
"That's a strange legal point."
"Very strange, and drawn up a number of centuries ago. The firm is tied to
Tarnenwerder and the von Tarn family as if by an unbreakable umbilical cord.
Unhappily, the very anomaly of the company articles makes it more binding.
Originally, the Saals and Rollens were the stewards of the von Tarns. They
moved up in the world to become lawyers, but the von Tarns saw to it that we
remained, for all time, joined hip and thigh."
"And all this has caused a split in your family?"
"As I say, I have not spoken to my brother in twenty years and he's seven
years older than I. His wife does not speak to my wife. To the end of their
days, my mother was on good terms with me, and my father did not even
acknowledge me in the street. It's a strange world, and has nothing to do with
my shortness of stature. Every fourth male Saal is born a dwarf." He made a
small waving motion with his hand. "Yes, we're supposed to talk about
ourselves in a different way these days, but I have never been politically
correct and the politics of my country are slowly descending into the pit of
the 1930s again. Did you know that?"
"I have heard about it, and have seen some of it."
"If you want concrete proof, just go over to Tarnenwerder at nine o'clock
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tonight and you'll see what our ancestors saw in the 1930s. History,
particularly when it is the history of politics, is a circular thing. As the
Americans say, what goes around comes around. The scourge of the thirties and
forties is coming around yet again."
They talked for another fifteen minutes, with Fritz Saal making notes
regarding the mythical consortium and its requirements. Bond gave him the
London address and he said he would be in touch.
Saal walked with him to the door and out onto the landing. They were just
shaking hands once more in farewell when the door to K. Rollen's office
opened. Bond stepped back a pace, for the man who looked out from this office
was a giant. He stood around six foot four, had hands like bunches of steel
bananas, a large shaven head, and a face that reminded him of a gargoyle.
"It's all right, Kurt," Saal said gently. "Nothing for you to worry about."
"Ah, so good." The voice was as slow and lumbering as that of a retard. The
grin did not reach his vacant eyes, and he withdrew into his office as though
that simple action was a feat of great skill.
Saal looked up at Bond. "Every sixth male child of the Rollen family is born
with a defect also. Yet he is a partner who does nothing. He's incapable of
anything but the simplest task, and he can be a shade intimidating. Also, he
has an uncanny memory. He remembers things and people from twenty years ago. I
once heard him describe, completely, his own baptism. Unhappily, when roused,
poor Kurt can be violent. Rather dangerously violent, unless you know how to
deal with him." He gestured toward the bottom of the stairs. "Now, our lovely
Heidi will see you out."
"Lovely Heidi" was the blonde eighth temptation of man.
"I think I once read a book about you, Heidi," Bond said with a smile as she
held the street door open for him.
"Oh, no, Mr. Boldman. She was my Swiss cousin. Also, she was a good little
girl."
Out in the Marienplatz again, he allowed Flicka to come flaring into his mind,
and quickly she banished all thoughts of what could be done with Heidi, given
the right time and place.
He then pondered on the near nightmare quality of the law firm of Saal, Saal
u. Rollen, realizing that in all probability the throwbacks in both the Saal
and Rollen families came from some incestuous relationships, when Wasserburg
had been truly a Bavarian backwater some hundreds of years ago.
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