“I’m warning you, don’t start up again. And now I’m asking you for the last time: do you agree to the proposal or not? If you refuse, then I’ll leave the whole amount with a notary until the matter is decided, since I own fifty-one percent of the shares. I’ll simply dissolve the company. And any remaining assets will be divided one way or the other.”

Silbermann tried once again to change Becker’s mind. “Gustav,” he said slowly. “You can’t possibly do that! Look, that would be…”

Becker stood up theatrically. “I consider our conversation ended,” he said formally. “I’m now going to the notary and will deposit the money there. I feel all the more compelled to do so because you, as I happen to know, intend to leave the country. Consequently there is a danger that if you get hold of the funds you might transfer them abroad. This way, however, your share of the company will be placed in a blocked account. Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Silbermann!”

He actually made a move to leave.

“I accept,” said Silbermann. “But I will never understand how you”—here he corrected himself and switched to the formal Sie—“how you could do something like this. In stealing from me you are dirtying yourself. Disgusting!”

Becker was visibly on edge. “Would you finally shut up with all your dumb talk,” he muttered gruffly. “Don’t take me for such a sentimental fool. Money has no smell,” he quipped. “Because if it smelled like you, I wouldn’t take it at all.”

Becker placed his briefcase on the table and Silbermann looked on without interrupting as he drafted a deed of partition. Now and then he glanced in his notebook, which led Silbermann to believe that Becker had previously had his lawyer spell out the various points, and had therefore been entertaining the idea for some time.

“Actually your portion would amount to only forty-one thousand marks,” Becker said after a while, “since you only have forty-nine percent of the shares.”

“Yes, and you have fifty-one, for which you didn’t pay a penny. Which you are supposed to administer as trustee, according to our agreement.”

Becker testily put down his pen. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?” he asked sharply.

“The only legally valid agreement is the partnership! As you are undoubtedly aware. Or would you like to declare in a court of law that the agreement was a fiction?”

“Stop talking this nonsense, you! Or else I might feel forced to…”

“To what?” asked Silbermann. “If it came to a trial, you would lose miserably. You can be sure of that. After all, there is our written correspondence. I still have your letter in which you affirm our oral agreement. I even have it … wait a moment … yes—I even have it on me.”