At
midday, he went to the kitchen, opened a can of corned beef hash and tipped it
into a frying pan, added some butter, cracked two eggs on top and waited until
they looked done.
After
lunch, he typed out a list of financial institutions that had been in contact
with him during the past year, and then settled down to call them one by one.
He started with a bank that had phoned him only a few days before.
“
Ohationat
, yes sorry, we managed to fill the position last
Friday.”
“Good
afternoon,
Nat, that sounds like an interesting proposition,
give me a couple of days to think about it, and I’ll come back to you.”
“It
was good of you to call, Mr. Cartwright, but...”
When
Nat had reached the end of the list, he put the phone down. He’d just been
devalued, and there was obviously a sell order out on him. He checked his current
account. It was still showing a healthy balance, but for how much longer? He
glanced up at the oil painting above his desk, Reclining Nude by
Camoin
. He wondered just how long it would be before he had
to return one of his mistresses to the gallery pimp.
The
phone rang. Had one of them thought about it and called him back? He picked it
up and heard a familiar voice.
“I
must apologize, Mr. Russell,” Nat said. “I should have called you earlier.”
Once
Logan had left the firm, Fletcher felt isolated and hardly a day went by when
Elliot didn’t try to undermine him, so when Bill Alexander asked to see him on
Monday morning, Fletcher sensed it wasn’t going to be a friendly encounter.
Over
supper with Annie on Sunday evening, he told his wife everything that had taken
place during the past few days, trying hard not to exaggerate.
Annie
listened in silence.
“If
you don’t tell Mr. Alexander the truth about his nephew, both of you will live
to regret it.”
“It’s
not that easy,” said Fletcher.
“The
truth is always that easy,” said Annie.
“Logan
has been treated disgracefully, and if it hadn’t been for you, he might never
have been offered another job. Your only mistake was not telling Alexander the
moment the meeting was over; that’s given Elliot the confidence to go on
undermining you.”
“And
if he sacks me as well?”
“Then
it isn’t a firm you should have joined in the first place, Fletcher Davenport,
and you would certainly not be the man I chose to marry.”
When
Fletcher arrived outside Mr. Alexander’s door a few minutes before nine, Mrs.
Townsend ushered him straight through to the senior partner’s office.
“Have
a seat,” said Bill Alexander, pointing to the chair on the other side of the
desk. No “nice to see you, Fletcher,” just have a seat. No “how’s Annie and Lucy,”
just have a seat. Those three words resolved Fletcher in the belief that Annie
was right, and he must not be fearful of standing up for what he believed in.
“Fletcher,
when you first joined Alexander
Dupont
and Bell
nearly two years ago, I had high hopes for
you,
and
indeed during your first year you more than lived up to my expectations. We all
recall with some considerable pleasure the Higgs and Dunlop incident. But of
late, you have not shown the same resolution.” Fletcher looked puzzled. He had
seen Matt
Cunliffe’s
most recent report on him, and
the word exemplary had stuck in his mind. “I think we have the right to assume
a standard of loyalty second to none in the legal profession,” continued
Alexander. Fletcher remained silent, not yet sure of the crime he was about to
be charged with. “It has been brought to my attention that you were also in the
bar with Fitzgerald on the night he was having a drink with his friend.”
“Information
supplied by your nephew, no doubt,” said Fletcher, “whose role in this whole
affair has been far from impartial.”
“What
do you mean by that?”
“Quite
simply that Mr. Elliot’s version of events is based totally on self-interest,
as I feel sure a man of your perspicacity has already worked out.”
“Perspicacity?”
said Alexander. “Was it perspicacious of you to be seen in the company of
Fitzgerald’s friend?”
He
emphasized the word again.
“I
did not meet Logan’s friend, as I feel sure Mr. Elliot told you, unless he only
wanted you to know half the story. I left for Ridgewood...”
“But
Ralph told me that you later returned.”
“Yes
I did, and like any good spy, your nephew must also have reported that I only
went back to pick up my scarf, which had fallen out of the sleeve of my
overcoat.”
“No,
he did not report that,” said Alexander.
“Which
is what I mean by only telling you half the story,” said Fletcher.
“So
you didn’t speak to Logan or his friend?”
“No,
I didn’t,”
said
Fletcher, “but that was only because I
was in a hurry, and didn’t have time.”
I
“So
you would have spoken to him?”
“Yes,
I would.”
“Even if you’d known that Logan was a homosexual?”
“I
neither knew nor cared.”
“You
didn’t care?”
“No,
I did not consider Logan’s private life was any of my business.”
“But
it might have been the firm’s business, which brings me to more important
matters. Are you aware that Logan Fitzgerald has since joined the firm that
employs your brother-in-law?”
“Yes,
I am,” said Fletcher, “I told Mr. Gates that Logan would be looking for a job
and they’d be lucky to get a man of his caliber.”
“I
wonder if that was wise,” said Bill Alexander.
“When
it comes to dealing with a friend, I have a tendency to put decency and
fairness ahead of my own self-interest.”
“And ahead of the firm’s?”
“Yes,
if it’s morally right. That’s what Professor Abrahams taught me.”
“Don’t
bandy words with me, Mr. Davenport.”
“Why not?
You’ve been
bandying them with me, Mr. Alexander.”
The
senior partner turned scarlet. “You must realize that I could have you thrown
out of this firm.”
“Two
of us leaving in the same week may take some explaining, Mr. Alexander.”
“Are
you threatening me?”
“No,
I think it’s you who is threatening me.”
“It
may not be that easy to get rid of you, Mr. Davenport, but I can make damn sure
you never become a partner while I’m a member of this firm.
Now
get out.”
As
he rose to leave, Fletcher recalled Annie’s words.
Then
it’s not the jinn you should have joined in the first place.
He
returned to his office to find the phone ringing.
Was
Alexander calling him back? He picked it up ready to offer his resignation. It
was Jimmy.
“Sorry
to bother you at work, Fletcher, but
Dad’s
had a heart
attack. He’s been taken to St. Patrick’s. Can you and Annie get over to
Hartford as quickly as possible?”
“I’VE
got myself a proper job,” said Nat as Su Ling walked through the door.
“You’re
going to be a New York cab driver?”
“No,”
replied Nat. “I don’t have the qualifications for that job.”
“That’s
never seemed to hinder anyone in the past.”
“But
not living in New York might.”
“We’re
leaving New York? Please tell me that we’re going somewhere civilized where
skyscrapers will be replaced with trees and exhaust fumes by fresh air.”
“We’re
going home.”
“Hartford?
Then it can only be Russell’s.”
“You’re
right,
Mr. Russell has offered me a job as
vice-president of the bank, working alongside Tom.”
“Serious banking?
Not just speculating in the currency market?”
“I’ll
oversee his currency department, but I can promise you that it concentrates
mainly on foreign exchange, not speculation. What Mr. Russell most needs is for
Tom and me to work on a complete reorganization of the bank. During the past
few years Russell’s has been falling behind its competitors and...” Su Ling
placed her bag on the hall table and walked over to the phone. “Who are you
calling?” asked Nat.
“My
mother, of course, we must start looking for a house, and then we’ll have to
consider a school for Luke, and once she’s got to work on that, I’ll need to be
in touch with some former colleagues about a job, and then...”
“Hold
on, little flower,” said Nat, taking his wife in his arms. “Am I to assume from
this that you approve of the idea?”
“Approve?
I can’t wait to get out of New York. The idea of Luke starting his education in
a school where the kids use machetes to sharpen their pencils horrifies me. I
also can’t wait
..”
The
phone rang and Su Ling picked it up. She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece.
“It’s someone named Jason, from Chase Manhattan. Shall I tell him you’re no
longer available?”
Nat
smiled and took the phone.
“Hi,
Jason, what can I do for you?”
“I’ve
been thinking about your call, Nat, and we may just have an opening for you at
Chase.”
“That’s
kind of
you,
Jason, but I’ve already accepted another
offer.”
“Not
one of our rivals, I hope?”
“Not
yet, but give me a little time,” said Nat, smiling.
When
Fletcher reported to Matt
Cunliffe
that his
father-in-law had been taken to the hospital, he was surprised to find that he
was not all that sympathetic.
“Domestic
crises arise fairly often,” remarked
Cunliffe
curtly.
“We all have families to worry about. Are you sure this can’t wait until the
weekend?”
“Yes,
I’m sure,” said Fletcher, “I owe more to this man than anyone other than my
parents.”
Fletcher
had only left Bill Alexander’s room for a few moments, and already there was a
less than subtle change in the atmosphere. He assumed that, by the time he
returned, that change would have spread like a contagious disease to the rest
of the staff.
He
phoned Annie from Penn Station. She sounded calm, but relieved to know he was
on his way home. When Fletcher stepped onto the train, he suddenly realized
that he hadn’t brought any work with him for the first time since he joined the
firm. He used the journey to consider his next move following his meeting with
Bill Alexander, but he’d come to no definite conclusions by the time the train
pulled into Ridgewood.
Fletcher
took a cab from the station, and was not surprised to find the family car
parked outside the front door, two suitcases already in the trunk, and Annie
walking down the drive with Lucy in her arms. How different from his mother, he
thought, yet how similar. He laughed for the first time that day.
On
the journey up to Hartford, Annie reported all the details she’d picked up from
her mother. Harry had suffered a heart attack a few minutes after arriving at
the Capitol that morning, and was immediately rushed to the hospital. Martha
was by his side, and Jimmy, Joanna and the children were already on their way
down from Vassar.
“What
are the doctors saying?”
“That
it’s too early for anything conclusive, but Dad has been warned that if he
doesn’t slow down, it could well happen again and next time it might prove
fatal.”
“Slow
down? Harry doesn’t know what the words mean. He’s one of life’s speeding
tickets.”
“He
may have been,” said Annie, “but Mom and I are going to tell him this afternoon
that he has to withdraw his name as a senate candidate at the next election.”
Bill
Russell stared across his desk at Nat and Tom. “It’s what I’ve always wanted,”
he said. “I’ll be sixty in a couple of years’ time, and I feel I’ve earned the
right not to be opening up the bank at ten every morning, and locking the front
door before I go home at night.
The thought of you two
working together-to quote the Good Book-fills my heart with joy.”
“I
don’t know about the Good Book,” said Tom, “but we feel the same way, Dad. So
where do you want us to start?”
“Of
course I’m aware that the bank has fallen behind its rivals during the past few
years, perhaps because as a family firm we’ve put greater emphasis on customer
relations than on the bottom line.
Something
your father would approve of, Nat, which is perhaps why
he’s
had an account with us for over thirty years.” Nat nodded his agreement.
“You’ll
also be aware that there have been one or two approaches from other banks with
a view to taking us over, but that isn’t how I wanted to end my career with
Russell’s- just ending up as an anonymous branch of some vast corporation.