Sudden and tragic death? 'And who caused that deathT said Abel aloud in a fury, suddenly remembering Davis Leroy'9 own words. 'They fobbed me off with some smooth young puppy ... By God, if I ever get back, I'll screw him personally and then his bank!

'Don't worry, Davis, I'll finish the job for you,' Abel said out loud.

Abel ran the Richmond hotel during the last weeks of that year with rigid control of his staff and prices and only just managed to keep his head above water. He couldn't help wondering what was happening to the other ten hotels in the group, but he didn't have the time to find out and it was no longer~ his responsibility anyway.

On 4 January 1930 Abel Rosnovski arrived in Boston. He took a taxi from the station to Kane and Cabot and was a few minutes early. He sat in the reception room, which was larger and more ornate than any bedroom in the Chicago Richmond. He started reading the Wall Street journal. 1930 was going to be a better year, the paper was trying to assure him. He doubted it. A prim, middle - aged woman entered the room.

'Mr. Kane will see you now, Mr. Rosnovski.'

Abel rose and followed her down a long corridor into a small oak - panelled room with a large leather - topped desk, behind which sat a tall, good - looking man who must, Abel thought, have been about the same age as himself. His eyes were as blue as Abel's. There was a picture on the wall behind him of an older man, whom the young man behind the desk greatly resembled. I'll bet that's Dad, thought Abel bitterly. You can be sure he'll survive the collapse; banks always seem to win both ways.

'My name is William Kane,' said the young man, rising and extending his hand. 'Please have a seat, Mr. Rosnovski.'

'Thank you,said Abel.

William stared at the little man in his ill - fitting suit, but also noted the determined eyes.

'Perhaps you will allow me to apprise you of the latest situation as I see it,' continued the blue - eyed young man.

'Of course.'

'Mr. Leroy's tragic and premature death ...' William began, hating the pomposity of his words.

Caused by your callousness, thought Abel.

'. . . seems to have left you with the immediate responsibility of running the group until the bank is in a position to find a buyer for the hotels. Although one hundred per cent of the shares of the group are now in your name, the property, in the form of eleven hotels, which was held as collateral for - the late Mr. Leroy's loan of two million dollars, is legally in our possession. This leaves you with no responsibility at all, and if you wish to disassociate yourself from the critire operation, wewill naturally understand.'

An insulting thing to suggest, thought William, but it has to be said.

The sort of thing a banker would expect a man to do, walk away from something the moment any problem arose, thought Abel.

William Kane continued. 'Until the two million debt to the bank is cleared I fear we must consider the estate of the late Mr. Leroy insolvent. We at the bank appreciate your personal involvement with the group, and we have done nothing about disposing of the hotels until we - had the opportunity to speak to you in person. We thought it possible you might know of a party interested in the purchase of the property, as the building - ,, the land and the business are obviously a valuable asset.'

'But not valuable enough for you to back me,' said Abel.

He ran his hand wearily through his thick, dark hair. 'How long will you give me to find a buyer?'

William hesitated for a moment when he saw the silver band around Abel Rosnovski's wrist. He had seen that band somewhere before, but he couldn't think where. 'Thirty days. You must understand that the bank is carrying the day - today losses on ten of the eleven hotels. Only the Chicago Richmond is making a small profit.'

'If you would give me the time and backing, Mr. Kane, I could turn all the hotels into profitable concerns. I know I could,' said Abel. 'Just give me the chance to prove I can do it, sir.' Abel found the last word sticking in his throat.

'So Mr. Leroy assured the bank when he came to see us last autumn,' said William. 'But these are hard times. There's no telling if the hotel trade will pick up, and we are not hoteliers, Mr. Rosnovski; we are bankers!

Abel was beginning to lose his temper with the smoothly dressed banker - 'young': Davis had been right. 'They'll be hard times all right for the hotel staff,' he said. 'What will they do if you sell off the roofs from over their heads? What do you imagine will happen to them?'

'I am afraid they are not our responsibility, Mr. Rosnovski. I must act in the bank's best interests!