Nineteenth Century Medical Guide

Chapter 415 411. Ferrara Quarry

Any organization or activity requires funding. Even if the organizer is conscientious and wealthy, it will not last long without a source of income.

Medical care is a major social issue that is highly dependent on money and is a pain point for every country's development. It is a fantasy to think that the welfare of thousands of wounded soldiers can be fundamentally improved by just a few simple slogans without the need for stable taxation.

An organization that could get 40 countries to sign the Convention for the Amelioration of the Condition of the Wounded in Armed Forces in the Field (the first Geneva Convention) would not be so naive. The fact that only % of the five top executives in the organization are doctors also shows that what really keeps it running is sufficiently progressive ideas, money, and interpersonal relationships.

This is exactly what the two core members of the committee, Dunant and Moynier, were responsible for.

Since the signing of the Convention in 1864, the committee has grown and expanded, with more and more people agreeing with or joining it, and the operating funds of the entire organization have become increasingly tight.

When a leader has exhausted all his reliance on realism and is left with only idealism, his power is doomed to fall into the hands of others.

Over the years, Moynier inherited the philanthropic idea of ​​rescuing the wounded and relied on his connections to hold the core of the organization's power. Dunant, who had spent all his wealth on charity, became a figurehead and ranked last among the five names.

Now the organization is rushing forward to expand its influence and further develop by relying on the massive wealth and modern technology brought by the World Expo. Dunan has already reached the edge of the cliff.

"Mr. Dunant, today is June 6th. You only have less than three months left."

Jamila, an old friend who is in charge of most of the family business, handed a court summons to her boss: "If you can't repay the debt before September 9, you will definitely be sued. Who knows by then..."

"I know."

Dunant was trimming his beard in front of the mirror, thinking about the upcoming First International Red Cross Conference: "Don't worry, my credit bank has found a buyer for the Ferrara quarry. This hot potato will be sold by the end of this month, or by mid-July at the latest."

"The quarry? The one that digs for marble?"

"Yes, it was finalized last month." Du Nan looked very confident. "He said he needed to raise money and asked me to wait another month or two."

"how much is it?"

"31 Swiss francs."

"That much loss? Almost 30%."

Du Nan spread his hands and said, "I misjudged the stone market. It's good enough that I can sell it now."

Although time was a bit tight, Jamila still breathed a sigh of relief: "By the way, how much deposit did he pay? Where's the contract? Let me see it."

"Not really. We are all doing big business, and he has two large estates in Paris. He still has some integrity." Du Nan said with a smile, "Besides, paying that little deposit won't solve my dilemma."

Jamila frowned and put the coffee cup back. "It's too risky to rely on this unsecured transaction to fill such a large debt. We need to prepare a backup plan, otherwise if the transaction fails, you will have to bear the debt of 30 Swiss francs alone!"

Dunan was silent, while Jamila kept chattering: "How are you going to pay back the money then? Did you sell the Algerian company at a low price? What about the mill company I opened to feed the poor? Did you sell it too? These are all ruthless people who will definitely take the opportunity to lower the price like crazy!!!"

"I understand what you mean." Du Nan sighed, "But there is nothing we can do now. We can only take it one step at a time."

Jamila looked at the still steaming coffee cup, reached into his pocket, and grabbed the resignation letter that he had spent half a year writing. He was still hesitating whether to hand over the letter, whether to tell his guess and let this old friend sober up.

"Forget it." Jamila shook her head secretly and stood up to leave.

"You're leaving?" Du Nan was a little reluctant.

In the past two years, the family business has declined, and friends around have left one after another. The committee seems to be a family, but there is no one who can really confide in me. In the end, it was Jamila who could help me and listen to my troubles.

"I'll go back to Lyon in the afternoon and then to Algeria a week later to deal with the bad debts."

Djemila still kept the letter. After all, the Algerian mill company was named after him. He wanted to keep the company more than anyone else, even Dunant himself: "I hope to hear good news from you in a month."

Du Nan held his hand and was about to say something when the housekeeper suddenly knocked on the door: "Mr. Du Nan, someone is looking for you."

"Looking for me?" Du Nan glanced at his pocket watch. "I'm going to the Expo soon and won't be seeing any guests for the time being. Ask him to come back in the evening."

During the conversation, Jamila keenly noticed something and hurriedly opened the door and called the housekeeper: "Wait, who is coming? Did you say your name and purpose?"

"He didn't bring a business card. He just said he was from Switzerland and wanted to talk to Mr. Dunan." The housekeeper said, "He wasn't in a hurry either. He said if you don't have time, then..."

There is still some time before the repayment deadline, so it shouldn't be the bank that is here to collect the overdue payment. Business has been bleak in recent years, so it shouldn't be the shareholders who are only thinking about making money. Is it a charity? That's even more impossible. Why would they leave the public welfare association and come to Du Nan, who has no real power?

Eliminating these possibilities, the only option left is to negotiate business.

Jamila immediately perked up, and before Du Nan could say anything, she said, "There is time, of course there is time!!!"

"Ah? I really have to go to a meeting. Moynier is waiting for my report."

"You've been reporting for so many years, why are you still reporting!" Jamila pulled him out the door, "When you're really broke and embroiled in lawsuits, no matter how many reports you make, you'll be kicked out."

"No money? How could I be without money? By the way, what do you mean by kicking it away?"

Jamila did not reply.

The two soon appeared in the hotel lobby and met the young man who was looking for Dunan. As soon as they met, the other party spoke fluent French and introduced himself: "I am Gustav, one of the heads of the Winterthur Bank in Switzerland."

When Du Nan heard the word "bank", he turned around and left as if he had met the plague god.

Jamila was quick to grab his wrist and keep him there. Then she turned around and asked, "It seems that Mr. Gustave is also an investor in the Algerian Credit Company?"

"I guess so." Gustav nodded. "My father's bank gave Mr. Dunant a loan of 3 Swiss francs. It also invested in his credit company together with several other Swiss banks."

Jamila held Du Nan tightly and said, "The loan is not due yet, why are you running away?"

"You should handle this matter." Du Nan was not in the mood to talk about money. "Time is tight, I really have to go."

Seeing him like this, Gustav did not stop him, but pointed out: "I am here to discuss business with you today not in the name of a representative of Winterthur Bank, but as the authorized agent of Mr. Kavi Hines." Dunan had heard of Kavi's name, but now he was like an ostrich with his head buried in the sand, unable to hear anything. He shook off Jamila's hand and ran towards the door.

"Mr. Dunant, no one wants your Ferrara quarry." Gustav directly exposed his little calculation and warned, "It's not because the marble there is of poor quality, nor because the selling price of the quarry is too high, but because the water rights qualification certificates you applied for from France and Austria have not been approved."

Du Nan stopped and stood there in a daze.

"Without a water rights certificate, the quarry cannot start construction. Mr. Dunan should know this better than anyone else."

Jamila finally realized that the reason why this quarry in a small town in northern Italy was so hot was because of a piece of official document: "No wonder the company took over so smoothly. It turned out that the other party was also badly cheated and wanted to sell it in a hurry. Wait, Mr. Dunan, the businessman you mentioned who is willing to buy the quarry will not..."

Dunan did not reply.

He certainly knew that when discussing cooperative acquisitions, the buyer had to pay a deposit and even sign a deposit contract. But in this case, whether the other party paid a deposit or not was not the fundamental reason for the transaction.

The root cause lies in that water rights certificate.

As long as the buyer can get the water rights certificate, the quarry will sell it at a discounted price, and it will definitely not be a loss. If the buyer cannot get the water rights certificate, even if the quarry cuts the price in half, it will still be a loss.

"The Franco-Austrian War lasted for so many years, and the entire northern Italy changed hands several times. Italians, Austrians, French, Prussians, and even Hungarians and Ottomans all wanted to get a piece of the pie. It was too difficult to set up a stable factory there and make money."

Suddenly Gustav smiled and changed the subject: "But."

"but?"

"Do you have any idea?"

After both of them showed expressions that they were eager to know the answer, Gustav said, "My client's identity is different. Lombardy is his hometown, and he has solid connections in both France and Austria. He is capable of helping you solve this difficult problem."

"who is it?"

"What was that Kaka you were talking about?"

Gustav did not repeat Kavi's name, but looked at the stairs in the far end of the lobby and at Dunan, who was standing beside him with a happy face: "Mr. Dunan, you will have time to talk to me now."

"Let's go upstairs!"

Of course, Kavey would not spend money to buy the quarry, let alone repay the huge debt for Dunan. All he had to do was to deliver Ferrara's water rights certificate to Dunan so that he could sell it as soon as possible to cash in.

  As for the benefits

Kavi didn't actually want any benefits.

He just felt that it was too miserable for the founder of the Red Cross, a great man who had invested most of his wealth in charity, to end up being deserted by his friends and relatives. Of course, it would be a good thing if Dunant could get him into Moynier's Public Welfare Society.

The title of philanthropist is secondary. What is important is to be able to truly participate in the formulation of plans for treating the wounded and get the Red Cross back on the right track as soon as possible.

But these were minor episodes. What really worthy of his concern now was Bertha's physical condition and the vascular experiments prepared for the operation.

Yesterday, on the afternoon of June 6, Holt personally handed the keys to the laboratory and its supporting facilities to Kavi. That night, an animal experiment that could change the direction of surgical development quietly began in Paris.

Six hours before Gustav set out to find Dunant, two carriages slowly drove into the city. They had black cloth on the windows, the horses were moving very slowly, and the two original lights were replaced by oil lamps in the hands of the coachmen, which could only barely illuminate a small area in front.

The carriage finally stopped at the back door of the Medical School of the University of Paris and waited quietly without taking any further action.

It was not until more than ten minutes later that a few figures walked out of the medical school, and the two drivers quickly jumped out of the car and opened the door. They did not communicate with each other, nor did they say hello, or even a simple gesture. All that could be seen was that iron cages were moved into the medical school.

From that day on, the sound of dogs barking could be heard from time to time in the medical school, and the rumor that someone in the medical school kept dogs spread like wildfire.

Looking at the news reports, Holt couldn't help but feel a little worried: "Brother Kavi, you better be careful. If people find out that the Surgical Association is helping you to 'slaughter' wild dogs, I might not be able to keep my position as president."

Kawi looked at the various exhibits in the Natural History Museum and said with a smile, "That's good too."

"fine?"

"We at the Vienna Surgical Association are in need of people like you. You're always welcome to come and work here," Kavi asked. "Oh, and you can speak German, right?"

"Don't joke, how could I go to Vienna?" Hott waved his hands and rejected his kindness.

"Didn't Teacher Sadio go there?"

"I'm different from him." Seeing that he had no sincerity, Holt could only talk to himself to comfort himself, "Forget it, I just hope those two old guys can help change the direction of the wind."

"Don't worry, the people I picked are very tight-lipped, no one will tell anyone." Kavi was very satisfied with the work attitude of the two temporary workers. "But I wonder if those young doctors you found for me are reliable."

"We are looking for young people with ideals and ambitions. They are so happy to work here that they would not say anything nonsense. It's just that they have to prepare for exams recently, so they can't spare the time for the time being."

Hott followed Kavi as he paced forward, looking at the door at the end of the exhibition hall. "The special exhibition hall is in front. I didn't expect that after so long, Dr. Kavi still couldn't forget about this corpse."

"I just wanted to come and take a look on a whim."

"I've seen corpses. The blood vessels are distinguished by red and blue. Every dissection and suture is carefully marked according to the order of operation. It's simply a work of art!"

Holt was not exaggerating, for this was a fact recognized by all who had viewed the exhibit.

If there is one shortcoming, it is that it “does not belong to Paris.” When he thought that such a unique exhibit could only be exhibited in Paris for one month, Holt felt indescribably uncomfortable: “Take your time to look at it. I have something else to do, so I’ll leave first.”

Kavi gently pushed open the door, shook the suitcase, and kindly reminded: "Mr. Hott, if I were you, I would choose to stay."

"Leave?"