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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

Tags: #Children of immigrants, #Children of immigrants - United States, #Westerns, #General, #Romance, #Sagas, #Fiction, #Businesswomen

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BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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“That’s a little
more convincing. But tell- me what you have in mind for William Kane,” said
Henry as he toyed with his wineglass and waited for Abel to continue.

“Something that
shouldn’t take up a lot of your time, Henry, but might well
prove
to be rewarding for you both financially and, as you hold Kane in the same high
regard as I do, personally.”

“I’m listening,”
said Henry, still not looking up from his glass.

“I want to lay
my hands on a substantial shareholding in Kane’s Boston bank.”

“You won’t find
that easy,” said Henry. “Most of the stock is held in a family trust and cannot
be sold without his personal concurrence. “

“You seem very
well informed,” said Abel.

“Common
knowledge,” said Henry.

Abel didn’t
believe him. “Well, let’s start by finding out the name -of every shareholder
in Kane and Cabot and see if any of them are interested in parting with their
stock at a price considerably above par.”

Abel watched
Henry’s eyes light up as he began to contemplate how
Much
might be in this transaction for him if he could make a deal with both sides.

“If he ever
found out he’d play very rough,” said Henry.

“He’s not going
to find out,” said Abel. “And even if he did, we’d be at least two moves ahead
of him. Do you think you are capable of doing the job?”

“I can try. What
did you have in mind?”

Abel realized
that Henry was trying to find out what payment might expf-
,ct
,
but he hadn’t finished yet. “I want a written report the first day of every
month showing Kane’s shareholdings in any company, his business commitments and
all details you can obtain of his private life.

I want
everything you come up with, however trivial it may seem.”

“I repeat, that
won’t be easy,” said Henry.

“Will a thousand
dollars a month make the task easier?”

“Fifteen hundred
certainly would,” replied Henry.

“A
thousand dollars a month for the first six months.
If you prove
yourself, I’ll raise the figure to fifteen hundred.”

“It’s a deal,”
said Henry.

“Good,” said
Abel as he took his billfold from his inside pocket and extracted a check
already made out to cash for one thousand dollars.

Henry studied
the check. “You were pretty confident I would fall into line, weren’t you?”

“No, not
altogether,” said Abel as he removed a second check from his billfold and
showed it to Henry. It was made out for fifteen hundred dollars. “If you come
up with some winners in the first six months, you’ll only have lost three
thousand overall.”

Both men
laughed.

“Now to a more
pleasant subject,” said Abel. “Are we going to win?”

“The
Cubs?”

“No,
the ulection.”

“Sure. Landon is
in for a whipping. The Kansas Sunflower can’t hope to beat FDR,” said Henry.
“As the President reminded us, that particular flower is yellow, has a black
heart, is useful as parrot food and always dies before November.”

Abel laughed
again.
“And how about you personally?”

“No worries. The
seat has always been safe for the Democrats. The difficult thing was winning
the nomination, not the election.”

“I look forward
to your being a congressman, -Henry.”

“I’m sure vou
do, Ahel. And I look forward to serving you as well as my other constituents.”

Abel looked at
him quizzically. “Considerably better, I should hope,” he commented as a
sirloin steak that almost covered the plate was placed in front of him while
another glass was filled with a C6te de Beaune 1929.

The rest of the
lunch was spent discussing Gabby Hartnett’s injury problems, Jesse Owens’s four
gold medals at the Berlin Olympics and the possibility that Hitler would invade
Poland.

“Never,” said
Henry, and started to reminisce about the courage of the Poles at Mons in the
Great War.

Abel didn’t
comment on the fact that no Polish regiment had seen action at Mons.

At two
thirty-seven, Abel was back at his desk considering the problems of the
Presidential Suite and the eight thousand fresh rolls.

He did not
arrive home from the Baron that night until nine o’clock, only to find
Florentyna already asleep. But she woke immediately as her father entered the
nursery and smiled up at him.

“Presidunk,
Presidunk, Presidunk.”

Abel smiled.
“Not me.
You perhaps, but not me.”
He picked up his
daugNer and kissed her on the cheek and sat with her while she repeated her
one-word vocabulary over and over again.

3

I
N NOVENIBER
1930, Henry Osbome was elected to the United States House of Representatives
for the Ninth District of Illinois. His majority was slightly smaller than his
predecessor’s, a fact that could be attributed only to his laziness because
Roosevelt had carried every state except Vermont and Maine, and in Congress the
Republicans were down to 17 senators and 103 representatives. But all that Abel
cared about was that his man had a seat in the House, and he immediately
offered him the chairmanship of the Planning Committee of the Baron Group.
Henry gratefully accepted.

Abel channeled
all his energy into building more and more hotels-with the help of Congressman
Osbome, who seemed able to fix building permits wherever the Baron next
desired. The cash Henry required for these favors was always paid in used
bills. Abel had no idea what Henry did with the money, but it was evident that
some of it had to be failing into the right hands, and he had no wish to know
the details.

Despite his
deteriorating relationship with Zaphia, Abel still wanted a son and began to
despair when his wife failed to conceive. He initially blamed Zaphia, who
longed for a second child, and eventually she nagged him into seeing a doctor.
Finally Abel agreed and was humiliated to learn that he had a low sperm count:
the doctor attributed this to early malnutrition and told him that it was most
unlikely he would ever father again. From that moment the subject was closed
and Abel lavished all his affection and hopes on Florentyna, who grew like a
weed. The only thing in Abel’s life that grew faster was the Baron Group. He
built a new hotel in the North, and another in the South, while modemizing and
streamlining the older hotels already in the Group.

At the age of
four, Florentyna attended her first nursery school. She insisted that Abel and
Franklin D. Roosevelt accompany her on the opening day. Most of the other girls
were chaperoned by women who Abel was surprised to discover were not always
their mothers but often nannies and, in one case, as he was gently corrected, a
governess. That night he told Zaphia that he wanted someone similarly qualified
to take charge of Florentyna.

“What for?”
asked Zaphia sharply.

“So
that no one in that school starts life with an advantage over our daughter.”

I think it’s a
stupid waste of money. What would such a person be able to do for her that I
can’t?”

Abel didn’t
reply, but the next morning he placed advertisements in the Chicago Tribune,
The New York Times and the London Times, seeking applicants for the post of
governess, stating clearly the terms offered.

Hundreds of replies
came in from all over the country from highly qualified women who wanted to
work for the chairman of the Baron Group.

Letters arrived
from Radcliffe, Vassar and Smith; there was even one from the Federal
Reformatory for Women. But it was the reply from a
lady
who had obviously never heard of the Chicago Baron that intrigued him most,

The Old Rectory

Much Hadham

Hertfordshire

12
September 1938

Dear
Sir,

In
reply to your advertisement in the personal column on the front page of today’s
issue of The Times, I should like to be considered for the post of governess to
your daughter.

I
am thirty-two years of age, being the sixth daughter of the Very Rev. L. H.
Tredgold and a spinster of the parish of Much Hadham in Hertfordshire. I am at
present teaching in the local grammar school and assisting my father in his
work as Rural Dean.

I
was educated at Cheltenham Ladies College, where I read Latin, Greek, French
and English for my higher matriculation, before taking up a closed scholarship
to Newnham College, Cambridge.

At
the University, I sat my finals, gaining first class awards in all three parts
of the Modern Language tripos. I do not hold a Bachelor of Arts degree from the
University, as their statutes preclude such awards for women.

I
am available for interview at any time and I would welcome the opportunity to
work in the New World.

I
look forward to your reply, while remaining your obedient servant,

W.
Tredgold

Abel found it
hard to accept that there was such an institution as Cheltenham Ladies College
or indeed such a place as Much Hadham, and he was certainly suspicious of
claims of first-class awards without degrees.

He asked his
secretary to place a call to Washington. When he was finally put through to the
person he wished to speak to, he read the letter aloud.

The voice from
Washington confirmed that every claim in the letter could be accurate; there
was no reason to doubt its credibility.

“Are you sure
there really is an establishment called Cheltenham Ladies College?” Abel
insisted.

“Most certainly
I am, Mr. Rosnovski, I was educated there myself,” replied the British
ambassador’s secretary.

That night Abel
read the letter over again, this time to Zaphia.

“What do you
think?” he asked, although he had already made up his mind.

“I don’t like
the sound of her,” said Zaphia, not looking up from the magazine she was
reading. “If we must have someone, why can’t she be an American?”

“Think of the
advantages Florentyna would have if she were tutored by an English governess,”
Abel paused. “She’d even be company for you.”

This time Zaphia
did look up from her magazine. “Why? Are you hoping she’ll educate me as well?”

Abel didn’t
reply.

The following
morning he sent a cable to Much Hadharn offering Misr, Tredgold the position of
governess.

Three weeks
later when Abel went to pick up the lady from the Twentieth Century Limited at
the La Salle Street Station, he knew immediately he had made the right
decision. As she stood alone on the platform, three suitcases of differing
sizes and vintages by her side, she could not have been anyone but…

Every Monday,
the Boys Latin School joined the Girls to be tutored in French by the modem
language teacher, Mme. Mettinet. For everyone except Florentyna, this was a
first, painful introduction to the language. As the class chanted
boucher
, boulanger
and
ipicier
after Madame, Florentyna, more out of boredom than bravado,
began holding a conversation with FDR in French. Her next-door neighbor, a
tall, rather lazy boy named Edward Winchester, who seemed unable to grasp the
difference between le and la, leaned over and told Florentyna to stop showing
off. Florentyna reddened. “I was only trying to explain to FDR the difference
between the masculine and the feminine.”

“Were you’ said
Edward. “Well, I’ll show you le difference, Mademoiselle Know-All,” and in a
fit of fury he grabbed FDR and with all the strength he could muster tore one
of the bear’s arms from its body. Florentyna remained rooted to her seat in
shock as Edward then took the inkwell out of his desk and poured the contents
over the bear’s head.

Mme. Mettinet,
who had never approved of having boys in the same class as girls, rushed to the
back of the room, but it was too late. FDR was already royal blue from head to
toe and sat on the floor in the middle of a circle of stuffing from his severed
arm. Florentyna grabbed her favorite friend, tears diluting the puddled ink.
Mme. Mettinet marched Edward to the headmaster’s office and instructed the
other children to sit in silence until she returned, Florentyna crawled around
the floor, trying hopelessly to put the stuffing back into FDR, when a
fair-haired girl Florentyna had never liked leaned over and hissed, “Serves you
right, stupid Polack.” The class giggled at the girl’s remark and some of them
started to chant, “Stupid Polack, stupid Polack,
stupid
Polack.” Florentyna clung to FDR and prayed for Mme. Mettinet’s return.

It seemed like
hours, although it was only a few minutes, before the French mistress
reappeared, with Edward looking suitably crestfallen following in her wake. The
chanting stopped the moment Mme. Mettinet entered the room, but Florentyna
couldn’t even make herself look up. In the unnatural silence, Edward walked up
to Florentyna and apologized in a voice that was as loud as it was unconvincing.
He returned to his seat and grinned at his classmates.

BOOK: The Prodigal Daughter
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