And so, my scruffy darling, cometh an end to all good things. Endeth with a flourish, what? You are the best that could have happened to me. It isn’t Killian and it wasn’t Seattle, so don’t waste time and money. And nothing you said or did. Your saying and your doing are a memorable perfection. I am just not a very constant type, love. For once I wanted to quit when I was ahead. Think kindly of the girl. Because she did love you, does love you, will love you from here on in. Cross my heart. (Say my good-byes to all the good ones.)
Instead of a signature she had drawn a circle with two little almond shapes for eyes, and a great big curved line for a smile. Three tears were dripping down out of each eye.
But, damn it, I wasn’t ready yet.
Those were the words in my mind. I read them back and suddenly understood them, and I sat down in the booth suddenly full of self-understanding and self-loathing.
Sure, Puss-baby. We just hadn’t reached the cutoff point where McGee would make the break on his terms. Which would have kept you from quitting while you were ahead. The key word is ‘Yet.’ So all that’s hurt is pride, you sorry son of a bitch.
I could have done without that kind of selfrevelation. I felt like a very trivial and tiresome animal, a sluggish animal sitting slumped in its tired slack hide-hide that bore the small and involuntary marks of fang and claw of the otherwise gentle she thing now gone for good. Who is the user, Trav baby, and who is the used? And have you ever given anybody anything worth the having.
I clamped my jaw until my teeth squeaked and my ears buzzed. Why such a big hang-up over another promiscuous broad? Town was full of them. Go whistle up another one. Be the jolly old lover-boy, and be glad the redhead left before she turned into a drag, before she started bugging you about making it something legal and forever, and a-crawl with kids. I like last year’s McGee better.
Nine
MEYER WAS back on the second day of the new year, back on Tuesday at ten in the morning, and came over in his New York garments after leaving his suitcase off on his boat, so eager was he to display the fruits of his efforts.
There were two thin sheafs of brokerage house forms, paperclipped together. He sat across from me in the galley booth and said, “That batch is the monthly margin account statements.”
The forms were printed in pale blue ink on a thin off-white paper. The name of the firm was but vaguely familiar. Shutts, Gaylor, Stith and Company. 44 Wall Street. New York 10004. Established 1902.
“And these are the confirmations of purchases and sales. The prices are correct for the date of sale. The monthly statement of account checks against the confirmations, of course. The monthly statements cover eleven months, including last month. I put in several where you bought at such and such a figure and then sold after they’d gone up just a few points. They went up further and then dropped like stones.
I gave you two small losses, short term, on the same basis. In effect in eleven months you built a hundred thousand into almost two hundred and ninety thousand, so that according to the summary, right now you could sell two hundred thousand worth, pay a twenty-five percent long-term gain, and pocket a hundred and fifty thousand, leaving almost your original investment in the securities you’d still be holding.“
“What about anybody checking it out?”
“Your account number… that number there… oh-three-nine-seven-one-one-oh, that’s in legitimate sequence. Somebody started an account eleven months ago, then canceled out. It’s a small, conservative, reputable house. I can tell you that there is not one other person in the world they would do this for. I had to make so many solemn oaths I’ve forgotten half of them. If anybody checks back to the margin clerk he will say it is all legitimate. If anybody tries to go further, they will come upon either Emmet Stith or Whitsett Gaylor, who’ll confirm.”
“So how did I make payment to them?”
“Always by check on the Bank of Nova Scotia in Nassau.”
It was beautiful. There is no way that even a Gary Santo could pry information out of the bank of Nova Scotia. It is a system some call Zurich West.
I leafed through the sheets. I had bought at the right time. I’d done very well.
“So what is wrong with you?” Meyer asked.
“I’m just great. Nifty peachy.”
“You are stimulating. Like a dirge. Where’s Puss?”
“Gone for good.”
“So!”
“So?”
“So I don’t think you drove that one off. So it was her choice. So she isn’t the kind who says it is for good and then come back all of a sudden. With her, gone is gone. Or worse. So if I were you and one like that was gone for good, I’d miss hell out of her and wonder if maybe I’d handled things a little differently somehow, I could have kept her around permanently.”
“That’s enough about ‘so.’ ”
He got out of the booth. “When you want to be civilized, I live over there on a boat. The John Maynard Keynes. Fourteen hundred and forty a year, special annual rate, less a discount for paying the year in advance. Ask for Meyer.”
“Okay, okay. These sheets are perfect. You did a hell of a job up there. You are intelligent, crafty, loyal, persuasive and diligent. Puss or no Puss, the job goes on. LaFrance showed. I’ll play you the tape. It’s interesting. He spilled the name of the company. Calitron. Mean anything?”
“A name only. Listed on the big board. A growth issue, going at thirty times earnings. Volatile. I’ll check it out. Play the tape and I’ll go away and let you sit and chew your hands and moan a little.”
“I’m glad I depend on you for sympathy Meyer.”
“What sympathy should you get? A little arrangement, wasn’t it? A sea urchin arranged the meeting. The urchin didn’t wash up, she didn’t step on it, what have you lost? Don’t answerl Your disposition you’ve lost. Play the tape before I start to cry.”
I put it on. I stretched out on the yellow couch. I closed my eyes. If I opened them quick enough, turned my head quick enough, I would see Puss sitting cross-legged on the floor, scowling as she listened to Preston LaFrance.
When it was through, I turned it off. Meyer sighed. He said, “I think he will have the forty thousand. Even knowing I was hearing nonsense, I could believe you a little. Forty thousand is better than getting poked in the eye with a stick.”
“You left something out. Did you find the kind of a company Gary Santo could invest in?”
After the first five sentences I was totally lost. I stopped him and told him to start over again, and give it to me in baby talk.
He sighed; pondered. “Try this. A company has only so many shares of stock issued. The number of shares is called the ‘float.’ When there aren’t many shares, it is called a ‘thin float.’ Somebody buys ten thousand shares of General Motors, he might move it up an eighth of a point twelve and a half cents a share-just by the effect of his demand on the floating supply. But if he put in an order for ten thousand shares of Peewee incorporated, the demand might shove it right through the roof. It might boost it four or five dollars a share. Are you with me?”
“So far.”
“Every day in every newspaper it shows you, with the two zeros left off the end, how many shares of every listed stock were bought and sold. People watch like hawks. Two kinds of people. One guy wants capital gains. He wants to buy something for twenty dollars a share, hold it for six months and a day, sell it for forty a share, pay Uncle twenty-five percent of the profit in capital gains tax, or five dollars, and put fifteen in his pocket. Other characters are traders. They sit in brokerage offices and watch the tape. They want to buy a stock for twenty a share, sell it next week at twenty-five, when it drops down from twenty-six, buy it back at twenty-seven, sell at thirty, buy back at twenty-eight, sell at thirty-five and so on. They pay straight income tax on their net gain. Gary Santo is the first type, the capital gain guy, because all his income is being taxed at the maximum rate already.”