“Tell the truth. Remember, banking is based on trust, and if they know you’re always being straight with them, they’ll stand by you when you are going through hard times.”
“You still haven’t answered the question.”
“You simply say, ‘My father and I quarreled over a family matter and now I want to succeed in my own right.’”
“Do you think that will work?”
“I don’t know, but if it does, at least you’ll have started with all your cards on the table. Let’s go back over it again.”
“Must we?”
“Yes. No one owes you money, Jessie.”
“I would like to borrow thirty-four thousand dollars.”
“What do you need the money for?”
“I would like to take a—”
“Supper’s ready,” roared Bella.
“Rescued,” said Florentyna.
“Only until after we’ve eaten. How many banks are you seeing on Monday?”
“Three. Bank of California, Wells Fargo and Crocker. Why don’t I pop along to the Bank of America and you can simply pass the thirty-four thousand over the counter?”
“Because there are no coed prisons in America.”
Claude put his head around the door. “Hurry up, you two, or there won’t be any left.”
George spent as much time following up leads on Florentyna as he did being managing director of the Baron Group. He was determined to come up with some concrete results before Abel returned from Europe.
George had a little more success in one quarter than Abel. Zaphia was pleased to inform him that she was making regular trips to the Coast to see the happily married couple. It took George only one phone call to a travel agent in Chicago to discover that those trips had been to San Francisco. Within twenty-four hours he had Florentyna’s address and phone number. On one occasion George even managed a brief conversation with his goddaughter, but she was fairly reticent with him.
Henry Osborne made a pretext at wanting to help, but it soon became obvious that he only wished to know what was going on in Abel’s life. He even tried to press George into lending him some more money.
“You’ll have to wait until Abel returns,” George told him sharply.
“I am not sure I can last that long.”
“I’m sorry, Henry, but I don’t have the authority to sanction personal loans.”
“Not even to a board member? You may live to regret that decision, George. After all, I know a lot more about how the Group got started than you do, and I am sure there are others who would be willing to pay me well for such information.”
George always arrived at Idlewild Airport thirty minutes early whenever Abel was returning from Europe. He knew the Baron, like any newly appointed director, would be impatient to learn of any developments within the Group. But this time he felt certain that Abel’s opening question would be on a different subject.
As always, Abel was one of the first through Customs and once he and George were seated in the back of the company Cadillac, he wasted no time on small talk.
“What news?” he demanded, only too aware that George would know to what he was referring.
“Some good, some bad,” said George as he pressed a button by the side window. Abel watched a sheet of glass glide up between the driver and the passenger section of the car. He tapped his finger on the side pane impatiently as he waited. “Florentyna continues to be in touch with her mother. She’s living in a small house in San Francisco with some old friends from Radcliffe days.”
“Married?”
“Yes.”
Abel didn’t speak for some moments, as if taking in the finality of the statement.
“And the Kane boy?” he asked.
“He’s found a job in a bank. It seems a lot of people turned him down because word got around that he didn’t complete Harvard Business School and his father wouldn’t supply a reference. Not many people were willing to employ him if as a consequence they antagonized William Kane. He was finally hired as a junior teller with the Bank of America, at a salary way below what he might have expected with his qualifications.”
“And Florentyna?”
“She’s working as the assistant manager in a fashion shop called ‘Wayout Columbus’ near Golden Gate Park. She’s also been trying to borrow money from several banks.”
“Why?” said Abel, sounding worried. “Is she in any sort of trouble?”
“No, she’s looking for capital to open her own shop.”
“How much is she hoping to raise?”
“She needs thirty-four thousand dollars for the lease on a small building that’s become vacant on Nob Hill.”
Abel considered this piece of news for a moment. “See that she gets the money. Make it look as if the transaction is an ordinary bank loan and be sure that it’s not traceable back to me.” He started tapping on the window again. “This must always remain between the two of us, George.”
“Anything you say, Abel.”
“And keep me informed of every move she makes, however trivial.”
“What about Richard Kane?”
“I’m not interested in him,” said Abel. “Now, what’s the bad news?”
“Trouble with Henry Osborne again. It seems he owes money elsewhere and I’m fairly certain his only source of income is you. He’s still making threats—about revealing that you condoned bribes in the early days when you had taken over the Group. Says he’s kept all the papers from the first day he met you, when he claims he fixed an extra payment after the fire at the old Richmond in Chicago. He’s telling everyone that he now has a file on you three inches thick.”
“I’ll deal with Henry in the morning,” said Abel.
Abel was fully up to date on the Group’s activities when Henry arrived for his private meeting. Abel looked up at him: the heavy drinking and the debts were beginning to take their toll. For the first time, Abel thought Henry looked older than his years.
“I need a little money to get me through a tricky period,” said Henry even before they had shaken hands. “Been a bit unlucky.”
“Again, Henry? You should know better at your age. How much do you need this time?”
“Ten thousand would see me through,” said Henry.
“Ten thousand,” said Abel, spitting out the words. “What do you think I am, a gold mine? It was only five thousand last time.”
“Inflation,” said Henry, trying to laugh.
“This is the last time, do you understand me?” said Abel as he took out his checkbook. “Come begging once more and I’ll remove you from the board and turn you out without a penny.”
“You’re a real friend, Abel. I swear I’ll never come back again—I promise you that. Never again.” Abel watched Henry take a cigar from the humidor on the table in front of him and light it. George hadn’t done that in twenty years. “Thanks, Abel. You’ll never regret your decision.”
Henry sauntered out of the office drawing on the cigar. Abel waited for the door to be closed, then buzzed for George. He appeared moments later.
“What happened?”
“I gave in for the last time,” said Abel. “I don’t know why—it cost me ten thousand.”
“Ten thousand?” said George, sighing. “You can be sure he’ll be back again. I’d be willing to put money on that.”
“He’d better not,” said Abel, “because I’m through with him. Whatever he’s done for me in the past it’s now quits. Anything new about my girl?”
“I’ve set up a facility for Florentyna with the Crocker National Bank of San Francisco,” said George. “She has an appointment next Monday with the loan officer. The agreement will appear to her as one of the bank’s ordinary loan transactions, with no special favors. In fact, they’re charging her half a percent more than usual so there can be no reason for her to be suspicious. What she doesn’t know is that the money is covered by your guarantee.”
“Thanks, George, that’s perfect. I’ll bet you ten doll
ars she pays off the loan within three years and never needs to go back for another.”
“That’s not a bet I’m willing to take,” said George.
Abel laughed. “Keep me briefed on everything she’s up to. Everything.”
Florentyna visited three banks the following Monday. The Bank of California showed some interest, Wells Fargo none, and Crocker asked her to call back. Richard was surprised and delighted.
“What terms did they discuss?”
“The Bank of California says it would want eight percent and has to hold the deeds of the lease. Crocker wants eight and a half percent, the deeds and my shares in the Baron Group.”
“Fair terms considering you have no banking history with them, but it will mean you must make a twenty-five percent profit before taxes just to break even.”
“I’ve worked it all out on paper, Richard, and I think I’ll make thirty-two percent in the first year.”
“I studied those figures last night, Jessie, and you’re being overly optimistic. You have no hope of achieving that. In fact, I think the company will lose between seven and ten thousand in the first year—so you’ll just have to hope they believe in your long-term future.”
“That’s exactly what the loan officer said.”
“When are they going to let you know their decision?”
“By the end of the week. It’s worse than waiting for exam results.”
“You’ve done well, Kane,” said the manager. “And I am advising the head office to promote you. What I have in mind—”
The phone buzzed on the manager’s desk. He picked it up and listened.
“It’s for you,” he said, surprised, before passing it to Richard.
“The Bank of California said their loans committee had turned me down, but Crocker said yes. Oh, Richard, isn’t that wonderful?”
“Yes, ma’am, it’s good news indeed,” said Richard, avoiding the manager’s eyes.
“Well, that’s very kind of you to say so, Mr. Kane. Now I also have this sociological problem and I was wondering if you could help in some way.”
“Perhaps if you were to come around the bank, ma’am, we could discuss it in greater detail.”
“What a great idea. I’ve always had this fantasy of making love in a bank vault surrounded by money. Lots and lots of Benjamin Franklins staring at me.”
“I agree with your proposition, ma’am, and I’ll call you and confirm at the first possible opportunity.”
“Don’t leave it too long or I may decide to move my account.”
“We always try to be of service at the Bank of America, ma’am.”
“If you look at my account, there’s not much sign of it.”
The phone clicked.
“Where are we having the celebration?” asked Richard.
“I told you over the phone—in the bank vault.”
“Darling, when you called I was in private conference with the manager and he was offering me the post of number three in the overseas department.”
“That’s fantastic. Then it’s a double celebration. Let’s go to Chinatown and have five takeouts and five giant Cokes.”
“Why five, Jessie?”
“Because Bella will be joining us. Incidentally, Mr. Kane, I prefer it when you call me ma’am.”
“No, I think I’ll stick with Jessie. It reminds me how far you’ve come since we met.”
Claude arrived that evening carrying a bottle of champagne under each arm. “Let’s open one immediately and celebrate,” said Bella.
“Agreed,” said Florentyna, “but what about the other one?”
“It’s to be saved for some special occasion that none of us could anticipate,” Claude said firmly.
Richard opened the first bottle and poured out four glasses while Florentyna put the second in the corner of the refrigerator.
She signed the lease for the tiny building on Nob Hill the next day and the Kanes moved into the small apartment above the store. Florentyna, Bella and Richard spent their weekends painting and cleaning while Claude, the most artistic of the four, printed the name “Florentyna’s” in royal blue above the store window. A month later they were ready to open.
During her first week as owner, manager and clerk, Florentyna contacted all the main wholesalers who had dealt with her father in New York. In no time she had a shop full of goods and ninety days’ credit.
Florentyna opened the little store on August 1, 1958. She always remembered the date because just after midnight Bella produced a twelve-pound baby.
Florentyna had sent out a large mailing announcing the opening of the store, choosing the day before the government raised postage stamps from three cents to four. She had also stolen an assistant named Nancy Ching—who had Maisie’s charm but fortunately not Maisie’s IQ—from her old employers, Wayout Columbus. On the morning of the opening, the two girls stood by the door in hopeful anticipation, but only one person came into the store the whole day and all he wanted to know was the way to the Mark Hopkins. The next morning, a young woman came in and spent an hour looking at all the shirts they had in from New York. She tried on several but left without purchasing anything. In the afternoon another lady fussed about for a long time and finally bought a pair of gloves.
“How much will that be?” she asked.
“Nothing,” said Florentyna.
“Nothing?” queried the lady.
“That’s correct. You are the first customer to make a purchase at Florentyna’s and there will be no charge.”
“How kind of you,” said the lady. “I shall tell all my friends.”
“You never gave me any gloves when I shopped at Bloomingdale’s, Miss Kovats,” said Richard that evening. “You’ll be bankrupt by the end of the month if you go on like that.”
But this time his judgment proved wrong. The lady turned out to be president of the Junior League in San Francisco and one word from her was worth more than a full-page advertisement in the San Francisco Chronicle.
For the first few weeks Florentyna seemed to be working an eighteen-hour day, for as soon as the doors closed she would check the inventory while Richard went over the books. As the months passed she began to wonder how the little store could ever hope to make a profit.
At the end of her first year they invited Bella and Claude to join in celebrating the loss of $7,380.
“We’ve got to achieve better results next year,” said Florentyna firmly.
“Why?” said Richard.
“Because our grocery bills are going to be larger.”
“Is Bella coming to live with us?”
“No, I’m pregnant.”
Richard was overjoyed, and his only anxiety was that he couldn’t stop Florentyna from working right up until the day she went into the hospital. They celebrated the end of their second year with a small profit of $2,000 and a large son of nine pounds three ounces. He had only one nipple. The decision on what they would call their firstborn, if it was a boy, had been made weeks before.
George Novak was both shocked and delighted to be chosen godfather for Florentyna’s son. Although he didn’t admit as much, Abel was also pleased, for he welcomed any opportunity to find out what was happening in his daughter’s life.
The day before the christening, George flew out to Los Angeles to check on the progress of the new Baron. Abel was determined to have the building completed by the middle of September in order that John Kennedy could open it while he was on the campaign trail. George then flew on to San Francisco confident that Abel’s deadline would be met.
By nature George took a long time to like people and even longer to trust them, but not so with Richard Kane. He took to him immediately, and once he was able to see for himself what Florentyna had achieved in such a short time, it became obvious that she could not have done it without her husband’s common sense and cautious approach. George intended to leave Abel in no doubt how he felt about the boy.
After a quiet dinner the two men played backgammon a
t a dollar a point and discussed the christening. “Not at all like Florentyna’s was,” George confided to Richard, who laughed at the thought of his reluctant father-in-law spending a night in jail.
“You seem to throw doubles all the time,” said George, sipping the Rémy Martin that Richard had poured for him.
“My father…,” said Richard, and then hesitated for a moment, “always accused me of being a bad loser if I made any mention of doubles.”
George laughed. “And how is your father?”
“I’ve no idea. There’s been no contact with him since Jessie and I were married.” George still couldn’t get used to hearing his goddaughter being called Jessie. When he was told the reason why, he knew it would amuse Abel.
“I’m sorry your father seems to be reacting the same way as Abel,” said George.
“I remain in touch with my mother,” continued Richard, sipping his brandy, “but I can see no end to my father’s attitude, especially while Abel continues to try and increase his holding in Lester’s.”
“Are you sure of that?” asked George, sounding surprised.
“Two years ago every banker on Wall Street knew what he was up to.”
“Abel is now so set in his ways,” said George, “I can’t make him listen to reason. But I don’t believe he will cause any more trouble at the moment,” he added, before returning to his brandy. Richard didn’t inquire why: he realized that if George wanted to explain he would.
“You see, if Kennedy wins the election,” George continued, once he had put his glass down, “Abel has an outside chance of a minor appointment in the new administration. I put it no higher than that.”
“Our ambassador to Poland, no doubt,” said Florentyna as she came into the room carrying a tray laden with coffee cups. “He would be the first Polish immigrant to be so honored. I’ve known about that ambition ever since our trip to Europe.”
George didn’t reply.
“Is Henry Osborne behind this?” asked Florentyna.
“No, he doesn’t even know about it,” said George, relaxing back in his chair. “Your father no longer places any trust in him. Since Henry lost his seat in Congress he has proved unreliable, to say the least, and your father is even considering removing him from the board.”
The Prodigal Daughter Page 19