Then I remembered Zamyatin had ended his life in abject poverty in Paris.
‘How’s your Argentine trade going?’
‘What?’ I lifted my head from my book, and blinked at Ricardo.
‘I said, how’s your Argentine trade doing?’
I didn’t give a damn how the Argentine trade was doing. Actually I did. I hoped it was losing Dekker lots of money. But I had just the sense not to say that. I knew that not taking a trading position seriously would be tantamount to quitting, and I hadn’t decided whether I wanted to do that yet. ‘It hasn’t moved all week.’
‘Do you still believe in it?’
What a ridiculous question. I could believe in God or Marx or even Thatcher. But how could I believe in bonds?
I took a deep breath. ‘From what I knew at the time, the Argentine Discounts seemed good bonds to buy. But since I only had two days’ experience upon which to make that judgement, I have to say that I have very little confidence that it was the correct one. The only thing that makes me feel I might have got it right is that you bought the position yourself. I trust your judgement. If you haven’t sold the position, I still believe in it. Have you sold it?’
Ricardo smiled. ‘I like the fact you’re aware of your own limitations. But it was a good choice. And you’re right, I wouldn’t have put on the position if I hadn’t agreed with you. As a matter of fact, I haven’t sold it, I’ve bought more. A lot more.’
‘That’s good. I hope it works out well,’ I muttered, and turned back to my book.
We sat in silence for a while, but I was aware of Ricardo’s eyes on me. ‘It’s been a tough week for you, hasn’t it? First being attacked, and then losing the favela deal.’
‘It has,’ I mumbled.
‘It must be very frightening to be attacked like that.’ I glanced up at Ricardo. His eyes were sincere. So sincere. As though he had been knifed himself.
‘It was,’ I said. ‘First we were just walking along the beach. And then suddenly I had a knife sticking out of my chest.’
Ricardo nodded. ‘Brazil’s a cruel country. It has this wonderful exterior, but underneath it can be brutal. It’s a great shame. That’s one of the reasons the favela deal was such a good idea.’
I hadn’t wanted to be drawn on this, but I couldn’t help myself. ‘Then why did you destroy it?’
‘I had no choice. I couldn’t let Bloomfield Weiss win that mandate. It would have meant the end of Dekker Ward.’
‘Oh, come on. We would still have had the largest share of the market. And something would have been done about those favelas. Now, all those people will just be left to crawl around in their own garbage.’
‘I’m not responsible for the social conditions of Brazil, or any other country for that matter,’ said Ricardo, calmly. ‘Over the last hundred years Brazil has had the same access to capital, natural resources and labour as Canada and the United States. The reason it’s a poorer country is entirely to do with the Brazilians and how they have decided to use or misuse those resources, not with me.’
I listened, making no attempt to hide the cynicism I felt.
‘My responsibility is the success of Dekker Ward,’ he went on. ‘I’ve built it into one of the most successful investment banks in the world, but the moment I sit back, the moment I let anyone else take the initiative, it will all be over. Oh, of course, we all make out it’s a friendly market, and that all the other guys are happy to let us run things. But they’d love to see us trip up. They’d love it even more if they could take over from us. My biggest fear is that we get complacent.’
His blue eyes bored into mine. ‘There comes a time when you have to play tough. Bloomfield Weiss should not have stolen the deal from us like that. They were playing tough. I had to show them, and everyone else, that I could play tougher.’
‘And what about the children in those favelas?’
‘If the Favela Bairro idea is as good as we think it is, it will get financed eventually. And, remember, it was Dekker who brought international capital back to Latin America when every other bank in the world had turned their back on it. We’ve organized more than twenty billion dollars of finance for the region. You know how badly these countries need that capital. And they’re using it properly now, investing to create jobs, and improve infrastructure.’
He saw the doubt in my eyes.
‘OK, I won’t pretend that’s the main reason why I’ve built up Dekker into what it is now. But it’s an important result of what I’ve done, and I’m proud of it.’
‘And what about all the money you make?’
‘Oh, come on, Nick! You told me that was the reason you wanted to join us.’
‘Yes, but—’
‘But what?’
‘I wanted money to do something. To buy myself freedom to do what I wanted with my life.’
‘And?’
‘And...’ I hesitated, trying to find the right words. ‘I just think that, at places like Dekker, money seems to be an end in itself.’
Ricardo rubbed his chin. ‘I know what you mean. But it’s not quite what it seems. As I keep saying, I like people who are hungry, people who need to make money for themselves. Then they end up making it for the firm as well, and the firm grows. And that’s good. But I don’t think it’s greed, exactly.’
‘What is it, then?’
‘Money is the score. I suppose I just want to have the highest score when it’s all over.’
‘And when’s that?’
Ricardo smiled. ‘Good question. I’m not sure. I suppose for me it’s a game without end.’
We fell silent for a moment, thinking about what the other had said and both surprised at how personal the conversation had suddenly become. I remembered the T-shirt I had seen in the favela: Who dies with the most toys wins. Ricardo’s game was played all over the world, by rich and poor.
He waved to an attendant, and asked for a Cognac. I ordered a whisky. We both sat back in the huge first-class seats, and sipped our drinks.
‘My father played the game and lost,’ Ricardo said.
‘Jamie said he’s a businessman in Venezuela?’
‘Was. He died about fifteen years ago.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘He was a deal-doer himself, in the oil industry. He came to Caracas from Argentina in the fifties, and built up quite a portfolio of interests. But then he overstretched himself. It was nineteen eighty, just after the second big oil-price hike. He thought oil was going to forty dollars a barrel. It went down to six. He always used to drink, but after that he drank more. He died four years later. He left us with very little in the end, so we had to make our own way. Which I’m proud of.’
‘Did he teach you much?’
‘The truthful answer is no. We didn’t really see much of him, he was always away doing deals, and I was away at school in England. But I think I inherited his nose for a deal. I just hope I know when not to go too far.’
‘So you think you’re competing against him?’
Ricardo thought this over for a moment. ‘In a way, yes. I would have liked him to have seen what I’ve achieved. He never gave me much praise when he was alive, perhaps he would now.’