Chapter 19 Chapter Nineteen

Mr. Hoffman was a heavy, rigid-looking man.He looked as if he had been carved out of wood - probably teak. His face is expressionless, so that people guess: such a person can think - can he have feelings?It seems impossible. His demeanor is highly respectable. He stood up, bent over, and held out a wedge-shaped hand. "Chief Inspector Davy? It's been years since I had the honor of meeting you—you probably don't even remember..." "Oh, of course I do, Mr. Hoffman. The Aaronburg diamond. You were a witness to the court--a very good witness, if I may say so. The defense counsel can't sway you at all."

"I'm not easily shaken," said Mr. Hoffman sullenly. He didn't seem like someone who would be easily swayed. "Can I be of service to you?" he went on. "I hope there is no trouble—I always want to work closely with the police. I have great admiration for you fine police officers." "Oh! No trouble. We just want to confirm a bit of information." "I will be more than happy to help you in any way I can. As I said, I have great admiration for your London Police Service. You have such a fantastic group of people, such loyalty, such integrity, such impartiality."

"You're ashamed of me," said Father. "I am at your command. What do you want to know?" "I only wanted to ask you for a little information about Bertram's Hotel." Mr. Hoffman's expression did not change.There may have been a moment when his whole manner became more rigid than before--but only for a little while. "Bertram's Hotel?" he said.There was puzzlement in the voice, a little confused.As if he had never heard of Bertram's Hotel or could not remember whether he knew Bertram's Hotel. "You have something to do with it, don't you, Mr. Hoffman?"

Mr. Hoffman's shoulders moved. "There are many, many things," he said, "and it is impossible to remember them all. Lots of business—a lot, and it keeps me very busy." "You have a hand in many ways, and I know that." "Yes," said Mr. Hoffman with a stiff smile, "I have a very large stall, don't you think so? So you think I'm connected with this--Bertram's Hotel?" "I shouldn't have said there was a connection. Actually, you own it, don't you?" said Father kindly. This time, Mr. Huo Yaoman was really stunned.

"Who told you this, can you tell me?" He said softly. "So it's true, isn't it?" said Chief Inspector Davy cheerfully. "I can tell it's a nice place. You must be proud of it, really." "Oh, yes," said Hoffman, "at first... I didn't think much of it... You know—" he smiled disgustedly, "—I own a lot of real estate in London .is a good investment—real estate. If something comes on the market, as long as I think it's in a good location and there's an opportunity to get it cheap, I'll invest.” "Was Bertram's Hotel cheap then?"

"As an operating company, it was going downhill," Mr. Hoffman said, shaking his head. "Well, it's thriving again now," said Father, "I was there just a few days ago. I'm really impressed by the atmosphere. Well-behaved old-fashioned clientele, comfortable old-fashioned houses , the surrounding environment is elegant, it looks simple and elegant, but it is actually luxurious and luxurious.” "Personally, I don't know much about it," Mr. Hoffman explained. "It's just one of my investments — but I believe it's doing well." "Yes, you seem to have a first-class fellow running it. What's his name? Humphreys? Yes, Humphreys."

"Excellent," Mr. Hoffman said. "I let him run everything. I just look at the balance sheet every year to make sure everything is running well." "It's full of titles," said "Pop," "and rich American tourists." He shook his head, as if remembering, "Excellent combination." "You say you were there a few days ago?" asked Mr. Hoffman. "I hope not—not business?" "Nothing too big. Just trying to solve a mystery." "A mystery? In Bertram's Hotel?" "It seems so. The case of the missing priest, you can call it that."

"Just kidding," said Mr. Hoffman, "that's your Sherlock Holmes term." "The pastor walked out of that place one evening and was never seen again." "It's very peculiar," said Mr. Hoffman, "but such things do happen. I remember a great sensation from many, many years ago: a colonel—let me think of his name—was Presumably Colonel Fulgreen, Mary's maid's valet, walked out of his club one night and was never seen again." "Of course," sighed "Pop," "many of these disappearances are voluntary." "You know more about that than I do, my dear Inspector," said Mr. Hoffman.He added: "I hope they gave you any help they could at Bertram's Hotel."

"They've been very nice to me," said "Pop," reassuring him. "That Miss Gorringe, she's been with you for a while, I suppose?" "Possibly. I really don't know much about it. I'm not personally interested in it, you know. In fact—" he smiled conciliatoryly, "I'm surprised you even knew it belonged to me." It wasn't really a question, but again there was uneasiness in his eyes. "Papa" noticed but didn't show it. "Those branches crisscrossing the city are like one giant jigsaw puzzle," he said. "I'd have a headache dealing with that. I speculate that a company—Mayflower Equity Trust or something like that— Names—they're the registered owner, they're owned by another company, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

"My fellow directors and I are—with all due respect—what you think are the manipulators, yes," admitted Mr. Hoffman reluctantly. "Your fellow directors, who are they? Yourself and, I suppose, one of your brothers?" "My brother William was associated with me in this investment. You should realize that Bertram is only part of a series of various hotels, offices, clubs and other London real estate." "Are there any other directors?" "Lord Pomfret, Abel Isaacstan." Hoffman's tone suddenly changed, "Do you really want to know these things? Just because you are investigating the disappearance of the pastor?"

"Father" shook his head, apologetic. "I suppose it was just curiosity. The search for the missing priest took me to Bertram, but I soon became--well, if you know what I mean--interested in it. Sometimes a Things lead to something else, right?" "I suppose it might be so, yes, now," he smiled, "is your curiosity satisfied?" "There's no better way to find out than to come straight to the horse's mouth. Isn't there?" said Father kindly.He stood up. "There's one last thing I really want to know—but I don't think you'll tell me." "What is it, Mr. Chief Inspector?" Hoffman asked cautiously. "How did Bertram control his staff? It's wonderful! That—what's his name—Henry. That one looks like a duke or an archbishop, I don't know which. Still, He serves you tea and muffins - excellent muffins! What an experience." "You like muffins with a lot of butter, don't you?" Mr. Hoffman's disgusted eyes lingered on "Daddy"'s chubby body for a while. "I think you can see that I do," said "Pop," "well, I won't hold you back any longer. I figured you'd be busy taking takeover bids, or something like that." "Ah, you're laughing at pretending you don't know anything about these things. No, I'm not busy. I don't let big business get my attention, and my taste is simple. I live a simple life, and I have leisure—I like a Rose, I live with my family and I love them very much." "Sounds so ideal," said "Pop," "I wish I could live like this." Mr. Hoffman smiled, then rose awkwardly to shake his hand. "Hope you find the missing priest soon." "Oh! That's all right. I'm sorry I didn't make myself clear, but he's been found—really missing. Got hit by a car, got a concussion—simple as that." "Father" walked to the door, turned around and asked: "By the way, is Mrs. Sedgwick a director of your company?" "Mrs. Sedgwick?" Hoffman thought for a moment. "No. Why would she be?" "Well, I heard—just a shareholder?" "Yes I am." "Well, goodbye, Mr. Hoffman. Thank you very much." "Father" returned to the police station and went directly to the assistant chief of police. "The Hoffman brothers are the ones running Bertram's Hotel—financially." "What? Those two rascals?" asked Chief Ronald. "right." "They did it very covertly." "Yeah — Robert Hoffman didn't like it at all when we found out. He was shocked." "What did you say?" "Oh, we've been very formal and polite the whole time. He's trying—not too obviously—to figure out how I found out." "I think you didn't reward him with this face." "Of course I didn't." "What excuse did you have for going to see him?" "I didn't say anything," said Father. "Don't he think it's a little strange?" "I suppose so. On the whole, I think it's a pretty good way to play with him that way, sir." "It would say a lot if the Hoffman Brothers run it all. They've never been involved in anything dastardly themselves - no way! They don't organize crime - but they finance it!" "William was in charge of the bank settlements on the Swiss side. He ran the post-war foreign exchange blackmail - we knew that, but couldn't prove it. The brothers had a lot of money, and they used it to support all kinds of money. businesses—some legitimate, some not. But they are very careful—they know every trick of the business. Robert’s diamond business exemplifies this—but it paints a suggestive picture The picture: diamonds, deposit interest, and real estate—clubs, cultural buildings, offices, restaurants, hotels—clearly owned by others.” "Do you think Hoffman was the mastermind behind these organized robberies?" "No, I think these two are only dealing with financial matters. No, we'll have to look elsewhere for a mastermind. There's a really smart guy working somewhere."