Chris gave up on the Baltic States, leaned back, closed his eyes, and thought of Megan. He had said goodbye to her in Cambridge before driving back to London to get his stuff ready for America. It had been a great day, a great night. He remembered her smell, the softness of her skin, her hair against his face. She had awakened something in him that he had not experienced for a long time. Since Tamara. No, it was different from the way he had felt with Tamara. It was something new, something much better. There was so much more he wanted to know about her, and yet he felt he knew her well already. Spending time with her seemed so natural. He hoped that he would see a lot more of her; he was determined that he would see a lot more of her.
He thought about her and Eric, and wondered for a moment how he and Eric compared. But only for a moment. Rivalry with Eric was pointless: Eric was always a winner at everything, and it was best just to accept that as a fact of life. He winced at the only stupid remark he could remember making during the night. Sometime in the small hours, after they had made love for the second time, he had mentioned Eric. She had stiffened, and then asked him whether no one had ever told him not to discuss old lovers with new ones. He thought of Duncan and Pippa and felt like an idiot. His transgression had soon been forgotten, but it was clear that Eric was a taboo subject with Megan.
He smiled as he thought about seeing her again. Then the kid on his right whacked him in the ribs with a sharp elbow.
Rudy Moss’s arrogance had matured. He used to be cocky or sycophantic, depending on whom he was with. Ten years had given him a certain authority. His pudginess had transformed into prematurely middle-aged flab. He used his long nose to great effect, holding his head at exactly the right angle to be able to look down it at whomever he was talking to. He was an expert too at the weighty silence, the pause that implied that he alone knew the right answer and was debating whether to divulge it. Chris couldn’t stand him.
But he had to sit there and beg, a process that he found very difficult, but that Rudy seemed to be enjoying greatly.
The meeting started off promisingly.
‘I got a call from Eric Astle about you last week,’ Rudy began. ‘He was quite complimentary.’
‘Good,’ said Chris.
‘Yeah. He’s done well,’ said Rudy. ‘Did you see that piece in Business Week a couple of months back? “Dealmakers of the Twenty-first Century” it was called. Something like that.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘It seems that Eric is quite the M&A star.’
‘It does.’
‘It’s a shame he couldn’t do quite as well as me on the programme,’ Rudy said, with a smile.
Chris’s recollection was that Eric had just pipped Rudy for top place at the end, but he let it rest. Chris looked around Rudy’s office. Small, but at least he had his own. He had a nice view of other tall buildings housing insurance companies. Amalgamated Veterans Life was a respected institution, and Rudy obviously had some responsibility. But he was hardly ‘dealmaker of the twenty-first century’. Chris smiled to himself.
Mistake. Rudy saw him and frowned. He was probably all too aware that he hadn’t fulfilled the promise of the training programme.
‘I’m impressed by what Eric says, but I need to make up my own mind on this. I told you the reservations I have now you’ve lost Lenka. Why should I keep my funds with you?’
Chris launched into an explanation of the opportunities for Central Europe, of the rapid integration of the countries there into the European economy, and of how the hiccups on the way provided opportunities for the fund to trade its way to a stronger return. He focused on how he proposed to recruit a high-yield bond expert to replace Lenka. Chris convinced himself. He didn’t know about Rudy.
‘What do you think about Latvia?’ Rudy asked. ‘Do you think it will make the second wave of candidates for the European Union?’
Typical of Rudy to ask a technical question out of the blue that he had probably mugged up beforehand. But Chris knew his stuff, and, aided by what he had read on the plane, gave a convincing answer.
It seemed to satisfy Rudy. ‘Do you have a current valuation for the fund?’ he asked.
This was it. The moment Chris had been dreading, but that he couldn’t avoid. He handed Rudy the February revaluation. Rudy scanned it.
‘But this says the price is one hundred and fifteen euros. Wasn’t it a hundred and twenty-nine last month? What happened?’
‘It’s the Eureka Telecom position we bought recently. It was a new issue, but we would only get a price of seventy if we were to sell it today.’
Rudy grimaced. ‘Nightmare. So the fund’s down, what, ten per cent in a month?’ he said, with the hint of a mocking smile. ‘That’s not very good is it?’
‘No. It’s our worst month to date,’ Chris admitted. ‘But remember you invested at a hundred. You’ve still made good money.’
‘We might have made it in the past, but we’re losing it now, aren’t we?’
‘The Eureka Telecom was Lenka’s position.’ Chris hated to say it, but it was true.
Rudy raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s not very gentlemanly, is it? Blaming your partner when she’s not here to defend herself.’
He was getting to Chris. Chris took a deep breath, counted to three, and replied. ‘Lenka has made some very good investments. She’s half the reason that the fund has performed so well overall. But her last one doesn’t seem to be working out.’
‘Do you know why she bought it?’ Rudy asked.
It was a good question, testing the level of communication between them and, by implication, how much Chris knew about what Lenka did. A good question that Chris couldn’t answer. ‘She bought it while I was away on holiday.’
‘So it’s fair to say that you know nothing about the fund’s biggest position. The position that’s giving you most trouble?’
‘I’m finding out,’ said Chris.
Rudy shook his head. ‘Finding out. I’m not sure Amalgamated Veterans should be financing your learning curve.’
‘Trust me, Rudy. I will make you money,’ Chris said.
Rudy chuckled. ‘Like you made Bloomfield Weiss money?’
Suddenly it all became clear to Chris. He was here so Rudy could enjoy rubbing his nose in the fact that his future was in Rudy’s hands. Rudy would toy with him, then go in for the kill. He could draw out the process for quite a while before he said no. Well, Chris had insisted on the meeting, so in a way it was his own fault. But his pride couldn’t let Rudy get away with it.
He stood up and held out his hand. ‘Thank you for investing with us, Rudy. But I think from now on the Carpathian Fund will get on better without you.’
Rudy, looking disappointed, shook the outstretched hand.
‘I’ll see myself out,’ Chris said, leaving the office.
A waste of time.
Chris sat on the Amtrak from Hartford to New York, fuming. He had travelled thousands of miles to see Rudy, only to be abused and humiliated. He should have known. After all, Rudy had made clear his lack of enthusiasm to see him. But he had had to try. It was only by seeing Rudy face-to-face that he could be absolutely sure there was no hope of getting him to change his mind.
What now? Sell bonds at the bottom of the market? Give up? Close down Carpathian? Perhaps the market would bail him out this time. Perhaps, when he got back to London, there would be a rally in the junk market, a big buyer of Eureka Telecom bonds, or an announcement on the expansion of the European Union.