Discreet inquiries located her at Monte Carlo and, without further ado, I boarded the next plane for Nice. In Monte Carlo, I booked a suite at the Hotel de Paris at $200 a day. Anything cheaper would have been incompatible with the prestige of this magazine which spares no expense on syich assignments. The only trouble was, the Bank of Greece, with its customary generosity had only allowed me $250 for the trip.
I would have to see Miss Onassis that day or the next morning at the latest and take the afternoon flight from Nice back to Athens.
From the hotel, I called Olympic Maritime and spoke to the assistant secretary to the secretary to Miss Onassis’ private secretary and explained my mission. She said she would call me back and asked where I was staying.
‘The Hotel de Paris, of course/ I said.
‘Of course/ she said, duly impressed I hoped.
Ten minutes later she called back to say Miss Onassis was very busy and did not as a rule grant interviews but, since it was for The Athenian, she would allow me five minutes at eleven o’clock in the morning in three days’ time.
I was delighted and appalled at the same time. Another three days in Monte Carlo would mean a hotel bill of about $800 not counting meals. I needed more money. If I cabled the magazine, they would have to go through the Bank of Greece and I knew only too well that any resemblance between that venerable institution’s Currency Committee and Speedy Gonzalez was purely coincidental.
As I pondered on my dilemma, I looked out of my window and caught sight of the portals of the famous Casino, right opposite the hotel.
An idea began to germinate. I would try my luck at the roulette table. I had a high ESP rating. If I could guess a red or a black twice, my $250 could become $1000.
I rushed across the road to the Casino and bought $250 worth of chips; I plonked them all on the Rouge and held my breath as the wheel turned, the little white ball bounced around and finally dropped neatly into the number three slot. Le trois, rouge etimpair, the croupier sang out. I now had $500. I let it ride on the red. The next number was also a red one. I had my $1000. I was about to pick up my chips and cash them when a small voice whispered hoarsely in my ear.
‘Put a hundred bucks on fourteen.’
I looked around in amazement but there was nobody near me. And yet I had distinctly heard a voice. Who could it be?
‘Never mind who I am. Do as I say. Put a hundred bucks on fourteen or you’ll be sorry.’ It was the voice again, a little hoarser, a little more imperative and exceedingly mysterious.
I could not help myself. I put $100 worth of chips on the number fourteen. I nearly collapsed when the croupier sang out: Lenumero quatorze, rouge etpair. I had won thirty-five times a hundred dollars or $3,600 including my original one hundred.
‘Now put it all on twenty-four.’ It was the voice again. I hesitated. I had more than enough to live it up for three days in Monte Carlo and go on a week’s binge at Saint Tropez as well. Why risk it all on another throw? But there was something about that voice I could not resist. It was as if the speaker were my partner and had an equal say on what I did with my winnings. I obeyed and placed it all on number twenty-four.
To cut a long story short, I soon amassed something like $200,000 and when the voice told me to put it all on zero, I baulked. But the voice became extremely angry. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ it whispered gratingly. ‘Haven’t I done right by you so far? Do as I say, put it all on zero.’
Reluctantly, I obeyed my invisible benefactor once more. I closed my eyes as the wheel whirled and when I heard the ball drop into a slot, I held my breath. Le vingt-six, noir et pair, the croupier sang out. I had lost everything.
I heard a ‘tsk-tsk’ sound in my ear and the voice again. Too bad old pal. We missed it by one hole that time. Well, so long old buddy.’
I was so furious I nearly cried. I felt like going out on the Casino terrace and planting a bullet in my brain. Except that I had no bullet — and to judge from my conduct, probably no brain either.
I left the Casino in a quandary. I had no money for a taxi. I had no money for anything. Not even a cup of coffee. How was I going to pay my hotel bill? How was I going to get to Nice, assuming I would give up the assignment and return to Athens post haste?
Suddenly I stopped. I was outside the offices of Olympic Maritime. Somewhere in there, Miss Onassis was making plans to give away half a billion dollars to the needy of this earth and there was I, without a sou to my name. What irony, what bathos, what crass injustice! And all Miss Onassis had to do to correct it was just dip into her till and hand me a couple of thousand dollars she wouldn’t even miss. And all I had to do was go in there and ask for it as politely as I could. Who knew? Maybe my week in Saint Tropez would materialize after all!
A few seconds later I was in the office of the assistant secretary to the secretary to Miss Onassis’ private secretary to whom I had spoken earlier on in the day.
I explained my predicament to her. I didn’t say I had lost my money at the Casino. Nobody has any sympathy for people who lose their money at the roulette tables except other people who’ve lost their money the same way.
‘Somebody stole my wallet,’ I said, ‘and I haven’t a penny to my name. I don’t even have the taxi fare to Nice and, assuming that I walk all the way there I shall probably die from hunger before the stewardess hands round the take-off caramels. If Miss Onassis could see her way to letting me have a couple of thousand bucks, I could stay on for the interview and maybe I could even return the money if I apply to the Currency Committee of the Bank of Greece on my return and Miss Onassis is prepared to wait for a couple of years until my application is approved.’
The secretary smiled sympathetically. She was a cute little chick and I wondered why she hadn’t already been whipped away to the altar by some budding tanker tycoon until I remembered that budding tanker tycoons only marry the daughters of older tanker tycoons.
‘Have you reported the theft of your wallet to the police?’ she asked innocently.
I tried not to look too guilty as I shook my head. ‘What’s the use?’ I asked, ‘the pickpocket has already spent it all at the Casino, even if they catch him.’ I marvelled inwardly at my powers of invention.
‘Well,’ the cute chick said, ‘I’m afraid that’s your only hope because you certainly won’t get anything from us. Do you realise that if we gave money to all the people who ask us for it, the entire Onassis fortune would be dissipated within twenty-four hours?’
Ί thought that was the object of the exercise,’ I mumbled, visions of my week in Saint Tropez sinking with the setting sun.
The secretary went on. ‘Giving money away is not such a simple procedure. Several charitable institutions will have to be set up with boards of governors,· executive staffs, teams of social workers and others whose job it will be to examine every request, investigate it and decide whether it is worthy or not.’
‘With such overheads, will there be anything left over to give away?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘There’s always something left over for the needy.’
‘Okay,’ I said quickly, ‘I’m needy. All you have to do is slip a couple of grand in an envelope and hand it to me. You don’t even have to mail it. That’ll save some overhead. Do you know what it costs to mail a letter these days?’
She laughed. ‘I’m afraid it’s not so easy. Right now, we’re going over a list of proposed charities to be set up. They cover a fantastic range of human misfortune. Such things as a Charitable Fund for the Families of Bow-Look-Outs Killed in Head-On Collisions, an Institute for the Orphans of Marine Engineers Lynched by Swimmers for Polluting Seaside Resorts, a Relief Fund for the Destitute Wives of Honest Shipchandlers, a Bird’s Nest Soup Kitchen for Unemployed Chinese Sea Cooks, a First Aid Station for Amateur Yachtsmen Run Down by 500,000-ton Super Tankers and a Decompression Hospital for Deepsea Divers Struck by the Deadly Mercedes-Benz.’
‘Surely you mean just the bends.’
‘Both,’ she said. ‘They’re protected on land as well as in the sea. But there’s no Fund for People Who’ve Had Their Wallets Stolen, I’m afraid.’
‘And yet,’ I remarked, ‘they’re the ones who need it most.’
‘Anyway,’ she said, locking her desk-drawer and rising, ‘it’s time to pack up and go home now. I usually have a bite at a cafeteria round the corner. Could I treat you to a croissant and some coffee before you begin your hike to Nice Airport?’
I shrugged. Even that was better than nothing.
When we left the cafeteria, I walked with her part of the way to where she lived. As we were passing the Casino, she suddenly stopped and grabbed my arm.
‘Do you know,’ she said breathlessly, Ί can distinctly hear a voice inside my head telling me to walk into that Casino and bet a hundred francs on number nine.’
I blanched. ‘Pay no attention to it,’ I almost screamed at her. ‘It is the voice of the Devil! Don’t go in there, I beg of you.’
Ί can’t resist it,’ she cried. Ί must obey.’
I held on to her for dear life as I babbled the whole story of what had happened to me that same afternoon. I didn’t mind admitting I had lied about losing my wallet if I could save her from that fiendish voice. But it was no use. She broke from my.grasp and ran into the Casino. I dashed in after her in time to see her betting a hundred francs on the number nine at the nearest roulette table. Naturally, she won. And, in spite of my entreaties, she went on betting until she had amassed something like a half million francs which she subsequently lost, all in one go.
She cried all the way across the road and up the lift to my suite at the Hotel de Paris and all through a champagne and caviar supper I had served in the room. When the time came for me to take her home, I said: ‘When you make up that final list of charities for Miss Onassis, please have one for the ‘Rehabilitation of Suckers Who Listen To Strange Voices At the Casino In Monte Carlo.’
She smiled ruefully and thanked me for my kindness to her.
‘But what will you do with no money?’ she asked.
Ί have none either, but I could get an advance on my salary. Perhaps I could lend you some?’
I kissed her lightly and shook my head. I had just spotted the ‘Atlantis’ dropping anchor in the harbour, her sleek white lines silhouetted against the dawn sky.
‘Mr. Niarchos has just arrived,’ I explained, pointing to the yacht.
‘My troubles are over now.’
