Sons of Fortune (36 page)

“How
much is the trade?” barked Steven.

“Ten million at 2068.”

Adrian
looked away as Steven gave the order.

“And
sell any pounds or lire we’re still holding because they’ll be the next to
devalue,” said Nat.

“What
about the rate?”

“To
hell with the rate, just sell,” said Nat, “and get into dollars. If it’s a real
storm, everyone will try to shelter in New York.” Nat was surprised how calm he
felt amidst the barrage of shouting and cursing around him.

“We’re
out of lire,” said Adrian, “and are being offered yen at 2027.”

“Grab
them,” intoned Nat, his eyes not moving from the screen.

“We’re
out of the pound,” said Steven, “at 2:37.”

“Good,
transfer half our dollars back into yen.”

“I’m
out of guilders,” shouted Adrian.

“Switch
them all into Swiss francs.”

“Do
you want to sell our deutschmark position?” asked Steven.

“No,”
said Nat.

“Do
you want to buy any?”

“No,”
repeated Nat. “They’re sitting on the equator and don’t seem to be moving in
either direction.”

He’d
finished making decisions in less than twenty minutes, and then all he could do
was stare at the screens and wait to see how much damage had been done. As most
currencies continued their downward trend Nat realized others would be
suffering far more than he was.

It
didn’t help.

If
only the French had waited until midday, the usual time to announce
a devaluation
, he would have been at his desk. “Damn the
French,” said Adrian.

“Clever
French,” countered Nat, “to devalue when we’re asleep.”

The
French devaluation meant little to Fletcher as he read the details in the New
York Times on the train into work the following morning. Several banks had
taken a bath, and one or two
were even having
to
report solvency problems to the Securities and Exchange Commission. He turned
the page to read a profile about the man who looked certain to be running
against Ford for president. Fletcher knew very little about Jimmy Carter, other
than that he’d been governor of Georgia and owned a large peanut farm. He
paused for a moment, and thought about his own political ambitions, which he’d
put on hold while he tried to establish himself at the firm.

Fletcher
decided he would sign up to help the “Back Carter” campaign in New York in
whatever spare time he had. Spare time? Harry and Martha complained about never
seeing him. Annie had joined yet another nonprofit board, and Lucy had chicken
pox.
When he’d phoned his mother to ask if he’d ever had
chicken pox, the first thing she said was, “Hello, stranger.”
However,
these problems were quickly forgotten only moments after he’d arrived at the
office.

The
first hint of any trouble came when he said good morning to Meg in reception.

“There’s
a meeting of all attorneys in the conference room at eight thirty,” she said
flatly.

“Any
idea what it’s about?” asked Fletcher, realizing that it was a silly question
the moment he’d asked it. Confidentiality was the firm’s hallmark.

Several
partners were already in their places, talking in hushed tones, when Fletcher
entered the boardroom at eight twenty, and he quickly took a seat directly
behind Matt’s chair. Could the devaluation of the French franc in Paris affect
a law firm in New York? He doubted it. Did the senior partner want to talk
about the Higgs and Dunlop deal?
No, not Alexander’s style.
He looked around the boardroom table. If any of them knew what was on the
agenda, they weren’t giving anything away. But it had to be bad news, because
good news was always announced at the six o’clock evening meeting.

At
eight twenty-four the senior partner walked in.

“I
must apologize for keeping you away from your desks,” he began, “but this was
not something that I felt could be covered by an internal memo, or slipped into
my monthly report.” He paused and cleared his throat. “The strength of this
firm has always been that it has never become involved in scandals of a
personal or financial nature; therefore I considered even the hint of such a
problem had to be dealt with expeditiously.” Fletcher was now even more
puzzled. “It has been brought to my notice that a member of this firm was seen
in a bar frequented by lawyers from rival institutions.”

I
do that every day, thought Fletcher, it’s hardly a crime.

“And
although this in itself is not reprehensible, it can lead to other developments
that are unacceptable at Alexander
Dupont
and Bell.
Fortunately, one of our
number
, with the best interest
of the firm at heart, felt it his duty to keep me briefed on what might have
become an embarrassing situation. The employee I am referring to was seen in a
bar talking to a member of a rival firm. He then left with that person at
approximately ten o’clock, took a cab to his home on the West Side, and did not
reappear again until six thirty the following morning, when he returned to his
own apartment. I immediately confronted the employee concerned, who made no
attempt to deny his relationship with the member of a rival firm, and I’m
pleased to say that he agreed the wisest course of action was to resign
immediately.” He paused. “I am grateful to the member of staff who reluctantly
decided that it was his duty to report this matter to me.”

Fletcher
glanced across at Ralph Elliot, who was trying to feign surprise as each new
sentence was delivered, but no one had ever told him about overacting. It was
his view that Fletcher recalled seeing Elliot on Fifth Avenue after his evening
drink. He felt sick the moment he realized it was Logan the senior partner was
referring to.

“May
I remind everyone,”
emphasized
Bill Alexander, “that
this matter should not be discussed again in public or in private.” The senior
partner rose from his place and left the room without another word.

Fletcher
thought it would be diplomatic to be among the last to leave, and when there
were no partners left in the room he rose and walked slowly toward the door.

On
his way back to his office he could hear footsteps behind him, but he didn’t
look around, until Elliot caught up with him. “You were in the bar with Logan
that
night,
weren’t you?” he paused. “I didn’t tell my
uncle.”

Fletcher
said nothing as Elliot slipped away, but once he was back at his desk he wrote
down the exact words Elliot had threatened him with.

The
only mistake he made was not to inform Bill Alexander immediately.

One
of the many things Nat admired about Su Ling was that she never once said, “I
told you so,” although after all her warnings, she had every right to do so.

“So
what happens next?” she asked, having already put the incident behind her.

“I
have to decide whether to resign or wait to be pushed.”

“But
Steven is the head of your department, and even Adrian is senior to you.”

“I
know, but they were all my positions, and I signed the buy and sell orders, so
no one really believes they made any of the plays.”

“How
much did the bank lose?”

“A
few dollars short of half a million.”

“But
you’ve made them much more than that in the past couple of years.”

“True,
but the other heads of departments will now consider me unreliable, and will
always be fearful that it just might happen again. Steven and Adrian are
already distancing themselves as quickly as they can; they won’t want to lose
their jobs as well.”

“But
you’re still capable of making the bank huge profits, so why should they let
you go?”

“Because
they’ll be able to replace me; business schools throw up bright new graduates
every year.”

“Not
of your caliber, they don’t,” said Su Ling.

“But
I thought you didn’t approve?”

“I
didn’t say I approve,” replied Su Ling, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t
recognize and admire your ability.” She hesitated. “Will anyone else offer you
a job?”

“I
don’t suppose they will be calling me as frequently as they were a month ago,
so I’ll just have to start calling them.”

Su
Ling wrapped her arms around her husband.

“You’ve
faced far worse than this in Vietnam and so did
I
in
Korea, and you didn’t flinch.”

Nat
had almost forgotten what had happened in Korea, although it was obviously
still troubling Su Ling.

“What
about the Cartwright Fund?” she asked as Nat helped her set the table.

“Lost
around fifty thousand, but it’s still showing a small profit over the year.
Which reminds
me,
I must ring Mr. Russell and
apologize.”

“But
you’ve also made them handsome returns in the past.”

“Which
is why they put so much trust in me in the first place,” said Nat, thumping the
table. “Damn it, I should have seen it coming.” He looked across the table at
his wife. “What do you think I should do?”

Su
Ling considered his question for some time. “Resign, and get yourself a proper
job.”

Fletcher
dialed the number without going through his secretary. “Are you free for
lunch?” He paused. “No, we need to meet somewhere where no one will recognize
us”-pause-”is that the one on West 57th?”-
pause
-”see
you there at twelve thirty.”

Fletcher
arrived at
Zemarki’s
a few minutes early. His guest
was waiting for him. They both ordered salad, and Fletcher called for a light
beer.

“I
thought you never drank at lunch?”

“Today
is one of those rare exceptions,” said Fletcher. After 2.1Q he’d taken a long
draft, he told his friend what had taken place that morning.

“This
is 1976 not 1776,” was all Jimmy said.

“I
know, but it seems that there are still one or two dinosaurs roaming around, and
God knows what other bile Elliot fed to his uncle.”

“Sounds
like a nice guy, your Mr. Elliot.

You’d
better keep your eye on him as you’re probably the next one he has in his
sights.”

“I
can take care of myself,” said Fletcher.

“It’s
Logan I’m worried about.”

“But
surely if he’s as good as you say he’ll be quickly snapped up?”

“Not
after a call to Bill Alexander asking why he left so suddenly.”

“No
lawyer would dare to suggest that being gay was a reason for dismissal.”

“He
doesn’t have to,” said Fletcher. “Given the circumstances he need only say, ‘I
would prefer not to discuss the matter, it’s somewhat delicate,” which is far
more deadly.” He took another swig. “I have to tell you, Jimmy, that if your
firm were lucky enough to employ Logan, they would never regret it.”

“I’ll
have a word with the senior partner this afternoon, and let you know how he
reacts. Anyway, how’s my kid sister?”

“Slowly taking over everything in Ridgewood,
including the book club, the neighborhood swim team and the blood donors’ drive.
Our next problem is going to be which school to send Lucy to.”

“Hotchkiss
is taking girls now,” said Jimmy, “and we intend
. .”

“I
wonder how the senator feels about that,” said Fletcher as he drained his beer.
“How is he, by the way?”

“Exhausted,
he never stops preparing for the next election.”

“But
no one could oust Harry. I don’t know a more popular politician in the state.”

“You
tell him that,” said Jimmy. “When I last saw him he’d put on fifteen pounds,
and was looking badly out of shape.”

Fletcher
glanced at his watch. “Send the old warhorse my best, and tell him Annie and I
will try and get up to Hartford for a weekend soon.”

He
paused. “This meeting never took place.”

“You’re
becoming paranoid,” said Jimmy as he picked up the check, “which is exactly
what this Elliot guy will be hoping for.”

Nat
handed in his resignation the following morning, relieved at how calmly Su Ling
had taken the whole debacle. But it was all very well her telling him to get a
proper job when there was only one job he felt qualified to do.

When
he returned to his office to remove his personal possessions it was as if there
were a quarantine notice
attached to his desk. Former
colleagues walked quickly past, and those occupying desks nearby remained on
their phones, their faces turned away.

He
took a laden cab back to the apartment, and filled the tiny elevator three
times before he had finally deposited everything in his study.

Nat
sat alone at his desk. The phone hadn’t rung once since he’d arrived home. The
apartment felt strangely empty without Su Ling and Luke; he’d got used to them
both being there to greet him whenever he came home. Thank God the boy was too
young to know what they were going through.