‘I hope you’re right,’ I said. And I had to believe he was.
One evening, in my second week at Dockenbush Farm, Dekker intruded. Jamie was tense when he returned home, and this time the tension didn’t leave after the first glass of wine. It was time for our taboo to be broken.
‘What’s up?’ asked Kate.
‘Things aren’t good at work.’
‘What is it?’
Jamie glanced at me. ‘Nick’ll probably love this. I think we’ve got big problems. The market’s been in free-fall all last week, and it looks like it’s continuing this week.’
‘What happened?’ I asked. I had deliberately stopped reading the Latin American news in the papers.
‘Mexico is up shit creek. Banks are going bust all over the place, the government has a huge debt-refinancing burden to deal with this year, and everyone’s scared.’
‘And Dekker is still long that two billion Mexican deal they led last month?’
‘Yes, that, and a lot more besides. Mexico is off twenty points and Ricardo keeps buying more. You see, his theory is that the US bailed out Mexico in nineteen ninety-five, and they’ll do it again. As far as he’s concerned, it’s a great opportunity to buy into a panic at the bottom. He’s got extra funding from Chalmet, you know, the Swiss bank that owns twenty-nine per cent of us. We have enough Mexican paper to fill the entire Canary Wharf tower.’
‘Exactly how much is that?’
Jamie winced. ‘We’re long four billion of Mexico, and two billion of other stuff.’
‘Jesus! What happened? Is Ricardo losing his nerve?’
‘Ricardo isn’t. The US Congress is. Have you heard of the Pinnock Bill?’
‘No.’
‘It’s a new piece of legislation that will require Congress to approve any emergency-aid package above a certain size. It’s specifically designed to prevent the US government bailing out Mexico again.’
‘Will it get through? Won’t the President veto it?’
‘Maybe, maybe not. There are deals within deals to be done on this one. Let’s just say that it has made Mexico’s situation more uncertain. Some of the Bradys are down in the thirties.’
Whew! I remembered they were trading in the sixties and seventies a month before. ‘So, no bonus this year?’
Jamie sighed. ‘It’s worse than that. Our capital was one and a half billion dollars at the beginning of this year. At today’s prices our losses are bigger than that now. Technically we’re insolvent. Of course, all the losses are unrealized. And no one outside the group knows about it, not even Lord Kerton. There’s still a chance that the market can bail us out. But until then, we’re relying on money from Chalmet and creative accounting.’
Jamie was right. I was pleased. But I did my best not to show it. He was worried. He didn’t want Dekker to disappear before he had received his first truly fat bonus.
But when I sat down to work the next morning, I found I couldn’t concentrate. The notes that had so absorbed me yesterday now lay spread out on the desk in front of me. My eyes were drawn to the window, and the apple trees below.
So Dekker were in deep shit? Great! My only regret was that I hadn’t put them there. I did feel slightly sorry for Jamie and some of the others who stood to lose their bonuses after all the work they had put in to get them. But Jamie was lucky enough to have Kate. What did he want with all that money?
Dekker would probably wriggle out somehow. Prices of Mexican bonds would bounce. Who knows, maybe Dekker would end up making a fortune instead of losing it? But right now they were weak, vulnerable. If I wanted my revenge, now was the time.
And I did want revenge. Ricardo and his brother had destroyed my career, stolen my thesis, beaten me up and forced me out of my flat, all with apparent impunity. The arrogance of it rankled. I couldn’t let them get away with it. What had Ricardo said? ‘If you’re not with me, you’re against me.’ Well, I was against him all right.
But what could I do?
I remembered Kate suggesting Jamie should get a job at Bloomfield Weiss. That would annoy Ricardo a little, true. But he wouldn’t much care if I joined them. Not that they’d have me, with my experience in finance stretching to less than two months.
Wait a moment. I’d got it. It seemed absurd at first, but the more I thought about it the more sense it made. I pushed Pushkin to one side, and scribbled thoughts down on a clean sheet of paper, smiling broadly to myself.
I would need some luck. But, if I pulled this off, Dekker was finished. And I would be responsible.
24
That afternoon, I asked Kate if she minded whether I made a couple of international calls. She didn’t. I started off with International Directory Enquiries for Bloomfield Weiss’s number in New York. Then the Bloomfield Weiss switchboard for the name of their chairman and the number of his office. Then the chairman’s office itself.
It turned out Sidney Stahl was in London. What luck! I got the London number from his secretary in New York. I tried that.
‘Mr Wolpin’s office,’ a woman’s voice answered.
‘Can I speak to Mr Stahl? I believe he’s in London.’
‘He certainly is. But he’s in a meeting with Mr Wolpin at the moment. Who’s speaking?’
‘Nick Elliot. From Dekker Ward.’
‘Can anyone else help you, Mr Elliot? I think Mr Stahl will be tied up for a while.’
I was being screened out. Unsurprising.
‘No, I need to talk to Mr Stahl myself. Can you tell him it’s about Dekker Ward’s losses on their Mexican position. And can you tell him I’m calling in an unofficial capacity. I’ll give you my number.’ I gave her Kate and Jamie’s.
‘Certainly, Mr Elliot. I’ll tell him,’ said the woman, managing to carry the suggestion that there was not a chance in hell that Mr Stahl would call me back. I had considered going to Bloomfield Weiss through Jamie’s friend Stephen Troughton, but after some thought, I’d rejected that idea. I didn’t trust him, and I would quickly have lost control of events. Much better to hold out for direct access to the top man.
I sat by the phone in the sitting room, reading the newspaper. Kate was in the garden playing with Oliver. She breezed past to get him a drink. ‘Taking a break?’ she asked, with a hint of surprise. I never usually took a break for more than ten minutes or so at a time.
‘I’ve just finished a chapter,’ I said. ‘I’m rewarding myself with the newspaper.’
I was half-way through the sports section when the phone rang. I grabbed it.
‘May I speak with Nick Elliot?’ said a quiet young American voice.
‘Speaking.’
‘This is Preston Morris. I work with Mr Stahl. I believe you called him earlier.’
I looked around. Kate was still in the garden ‘I need to speak to Mr Stahl personally,’ I said.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible today, sir. Perhaps I can help?’
The screening was in full working order.
‘OK. Listen. I’m a former employee of Dekker Ward. I have details of their recent losses in emerging-markets trading and a suggestion to make. I’d like to discuss it with Mr Stahl tomorrow. It’ll only take fifteen minutes. If he doesn’t like what he hears, he can throw me out.’
‘I’ll check with Sidney and call you back.’
I tried to stay closer to the phone than Kate all afternoon, but didn’t quite manage it. At last, just after six, it rang. Despite my efforts, she got to it first. ‘Preston Morris,’ she said, handing the receiver over to me. She watched as I agreed to a meeting at nine forty-five the following morning.
‘What was that all about?’ she asked.
‘Oh, just someone who wanted to see me,’ I answered.
‘Sounded like a banker to me.’