To Save a Son

by Brian Freemantle

  “Eddie?” invited Nicky, back at the drinks.

  Franks hesitated, not wanting a drink but aware they might consider it rudeness if he refused; it was the first time they had been in any sort of proper family situation since the arrival. “Thank you,” he accepted. As the man he’d been brought up to regard as a brother handed him the goblet, Franks said, “How are things with you, Nicky?”

  “Couldn’t be better,” said the man.

  “Tell him,” instructed Enrico proudly.

  “I’ve been made a partner,” disclosed Nicky. “Two weeks ago.”

  Fleetingly Franks had the impression of déjà vu. This was how it had always been between them, each having to parade their successes to the other. He supposed it was fitting that Nicky got the first opportunity.

  “That’s pretty good,” said Franks, recognizing Enrico’s need for his true son to be praised. After his graduation from Yale Law School, Nicky had specialized in corporate law, going first to a Wall Street brokerage firm before transferring into one of the smaller law practices. Franks would have thought he was still too young for a partnership and wondered if Enrico had bought the entry, with some sort of investment.

  “It’s better than good; junior vice president is phenomenal after three years!” said Enrico. He was a red-faced, large-bellied man, physically larger than Franks remembered, who seemed to have grown into the role of patriarch he’d performed that afternoon.

  “… Come on! Come on, Eddie! Harder; you’ve got to try harder! …” Franks blinked against the echo in his mind.

  “Made your first million yet?” Enrico demanded abruptly, giving Franks his chance.

  Franks hesitated; he’d forgotten a lot of Enrico’s exuberance, too. He said, with intentional modesty, “Actually, I have. I’ve been lucky.”

  “There’s no such thing as luck in business,” boomed Enrico, whose trucking empire stretched to Chicago and who freighted at least fifty percent of the produce to the New York markets. He handed his empty glass to his attentive son for a refill and said, “You’re both good boys. I’m proud of you.”

  Franks felt vaguely discomfited at being patronized so openly and wondered if Nicky did as well. Did having made himself a millionaire match becoming vice president of a Manhattan legal firm? Better, decided Franks. Much better.

  “Everything concentrated in England?” said Nicky.

  Franks looked directly at the other man, unsure if the question implied insularity. “Not really,” he said. “Obviously the companies are headquartered in London, but the businesses extend throughout Europe.”

  “Good boards?” asked the lawyer.

  “Professional boards,” qualified Franks, unoffended at the questioning because it provided the opportunity to let them know how successful he was. “Each of the companies is limited; Tina and I control the stock.”

  Franks saw Enrico’s smiling nod of approval and felt the warmth of the unspoken praise that had been so important to him as a child.

  “Fortunate position to be in,” said Nicky.

  There was admiration in the lawyer’s voice as well, and Franks’ satisfaction increased. He said, “It’s the way I always work.”

  “Cautious man,” said Nicky.

  Franks hesitated again, irritated at the accusation. He said, “There’s a very big difference between proper caution and proper risk-taking.” It sounded stiffer than he intended; his father had been cautious. Certainly Franks didn’t consider himself to be.

  “Know what I’d like to see?” said Enrico. “I’d like to see you two together in some sort of business venture. You’d make a great combination.”

  Before Franks could respond, Nicky said to him, “Ever considered expanding into the North American market?”

  “Not really,” said Franks, wishing he had a better response.

  “You should think about it,” urged Nicky. “America is where the really big business is done.”

  That was definitely a remark designed to minimize what he’d achieved, decided Franks.

  That Sunday, after the christening and the inevitable party, Franks predictably read the travel section of The New York Times, and when the idea came, studied more carefully the trade journals of the travel industry during the following week. It was definitely worth considering, he decided. He wished to hell it had occurred to him before his first conversation with Nicky and the old man; if he pursued it, the impression would be that he was taking their advice. Harder, Eddie, try harder, he thought.

  4

  Franks’ idea was to extend into Caribbean cruising in a specialized way that would make him different from the owners sailing the specially designed, rake-browed vessels he’d read about that Sunday and which his subsequent market research showed to be the accepted way to cruise the area. Franks decided to introduce a complete contrast, promoting the luxury style and class of yesteryear. He inquired into buying one of the oldest ships that Cunard had to sell, a straight-stemmed monolith of high ceilings, handcrafted teak, chandeliers, and crystal glass. The purchase price was cheap, but the conversion costs would be exorbitant. Entire air conditioning was essential for the climate in which he intended to operate, as well as new, cheaper-to-run engines and kitchens and facilities to support a full complement of passengers for three or four weeks instead of the shorter Atlantic-crossing period for which the ship was originally created. There was no possibility of obtaining any sort of government assistance and the banks were unimpressed with the concept, arguing that the conversion was impractical in light of the number of newer, more suitable vessels available.

  Franks refused to change his mind, and initially so did they. He commissioned blueprints and estimates from a marine architect and reduced some of the intended expenditure on catering facilities. The banks still refused to advance any more than eight million dollars, leaving him three million dollars short. Quite early in the negotiations the argument was made that he could raise all and more if he went public; the pressure was particularly strong from his main merchant bank, who wanted to broker the offering, but, as always, Franks rejected the suggestion, not wanting to expose himself on any stock market.

  He didn’t want to stop expanding, either. So he used his own money.

  He told Tina before doing it, assuring her that, in absolute control as they were, if the cruise concept failed, they could dispose of the already owned hotels and villas to pay off the bank loans, and his own money was accrued capital. So if the venture failed, their life-style would not be destroyed.

  But it didn’t fail. “Yesteryear cruising” was an immediate and overwhelming success. Franks’ ads blanketed American TV stations in the moneyed states of New York and Texas and Florida and California. This time the champagne in the ad was French, and the models dressed in 1920 flapper style and promoted the message against alternating Dixieland jazz and string orchestras. The demand was sufficient to have justified a second ship, but Franks, attuned to his market, didn’t provide one. His ship was unique and had the attraction of rarity; the advertising introduced characters proclaiming a social cachet in actually having to wait for their voyage, disparagingly suggesting that there were other, inferior vessels, but that of course no one with class would consider lowering their standards by actually traveling on one.

  The new venture meant that Franks spent even more time away from Tina and the children. The family traveled with him to America when he planned the promotional campaign, but Tina and the children stayed in Westchester, and this time Franks remained in Manhattan, only getting up on weekends. David caught the measles, so they couldn’t travel with him on the maiden voyage. Franks wasn’t satisfied with the way the shakedown cruise went, and so he took the second trip as well, which meant he was away a month longer than he intended.

  As soon as the Caribbean operation became established and the family returned to England, Franks made a conscious effort to devote more time to them. The Maidenhead house was adequate, but Franks decided upon something bigger. He took wh
ole days off to drive around with Tina and visit estate agents, and let her be the one to decide upon the estate at Henley. It was walled for a large part and covered thirty acres, part sloping down to the Thames, where there was a boathouse. The main house had six bedrooms, and the separate original stabling had been converted into garages with staff accommodations above, and there were two separate staff cottages as well. It meant, for the first time, that the nannies could sleep away from the main house, so although everything was larger, the impression was of greater privacy. There was already a tennis court, but Franks had it enlarged and installed a swimming pool, fenced and gated for safety. He established a routine of not going into the London office until Monday afternoon and always returned by midday on Friday, guaranteeing the tennis weekends they both enjoyed. He registered David for Harrow and entered Gabriella for a prep school in Ascot in preparation for Roedean.

  Life, he determined, was very good. The thought came to him sitting with Tina beside the pool. They were wearing the tennis gear from which they hadn’t bothered to change, sipping the drinks Franks prepared.

  As if aware of his thoughts, she said, “Everything’s so wonderful; so safe.”

  Franks looked beyond the immediate fence, to the distant encircling wall around the estate. He felt safe, too: protected behind that high barrier, invulnerable from everyone and everything. Franks regretted so much that his father hadn’t let him do what he’d wanted much earlier. And not just to prove himself, either. His father had earned the security of his own protective stockade. He said, “I’m thinking of extending further. The Caribbean is a hell of a market. We couldn’t go wrong with hotels out there.”

  “Promise me it won’t interfere with the way things are now; I like having a husband who spends so much time with me and who loves me.”

  Franks stood and leaned across her chair, kissing her. “I promise,” he said. “Why don’t we all go out? While I’m having a look at the islands you can spend some time with your parents again.”

  They went two weeks later. Franks stayed in Westchester for the weekend and Nicky came up from New York. At the family meal on Saturday night Nicky introduced the subject.

  “Interesting islands in which to start a business,” he said. “Ever thought about American finance?”

  “No,” Franks answered honestly.

  “What are the London rates?”

  Franks shrugged, unsure he wanted to discuss business in such detail. “Varies,” he said. “Lately it’s averaged out at about eleven but sometimes it can go as high as fourteen, long term.”

  “Money’s cheaper in New York,” assured Nicky.

  “Listen to him, Eddie,” advised Enrico. “Best corporate and investment lawyer in the city now.”

  “Why don’t we talk about it on Monday?” invited the man.

  Nicky was coming to him, seeking the approach, thought Franks. He enjoyed the sensation. “Why not?” he accepted.

  5

  The sign on the door said “Vice President,” and Nicky’s suite of rooms justified the title. There were three outer offices, each with its secretary, and a final anteroom for the personal assistant—her desk sign identified her as Maria Spinetti—before Nicky’s own corner office, with views along Wall Street on one side, opening into a panoramic picture of the twin towers of the Trade Center, misted in the early morning heat. Wide doors were set into another wall. They were open when the secretary led Franks in, showing a long conference room dominated by a central table around which were at least a dozen chairs. Nicky’s desk matched the size and opulence of the room, a massive inlaid affair with a telephone bank at one edge. His seat was high-backed, and buttoned leather, and the same color of leather covered two facing chairs and a couch in an area away from the desk, fronting a small table. Nicky led him there and offered drinks, which Franks refused, taking coffee instead. It was served by Maria, a severely-suited, tightly-coiffeured woman. Franks thought she was very attractive and knew it, and she was vaguely inviting in nearly every movement she made. He gave no reaction; he wasn’t interested in her or any other woman apart from Tina.

  “Impressive,” said Franks, gesturing around the suite as Maria left.

  “Room like this adds two zeroes to every contract and the clients expect it,” said Nicky boastfully.

  By comparison, Franks’ office in London was a box, and a pretty small box at that. But it was still Nicky who was making the approach to him. Franks looked at his surrogate brother, thinking how well Nicky fitted into the surroundings. He’d always been heavy, from as long ago as college days, but the immaculate suiting, the material the sort that had a shine to it, reduced the appearance. His hair was thick and curly, without any obvious style, and hair thickly matted the backs of his hands as well. Franks thought passingly of Maria Spinetti in the outside room, guessed there could have been a lot of other Marias, and wondered why Nicky was still a bachelor.

  “You said on the weekend that money was cheaper here than in London,” said Franks, immediately businesslike.

  “You’ve got a damned good track record,” praised Nicky. “Half a dozen banks here in New York would fall over themselves to get you as a customer.”

  He’d had a pretty damned good track record before he tried to set up the cruising idea, and the English banks had twisted and squirmed, reflected Franks. Guardedly he said, “It might be worth thinking about, after I’ve had a look to see if I think it’s worthwhile. You could arrange the introductions?”

  “No problem,” assured Nicky at once. “There’s always private investors, too.”

  Franks shook his head. “I’ve always used bank money and kept the companies private. I told you that.”

  “Always worth considering something different,” pressed Nicky. “This will be a new venture, after all.”

  “I’m accustomed to running a one-man operation,” said Franks. “I don’t know that I could work with a board who might oppose me too often.”

  “I’m thinking of financial investors, not active directors,” said Nicky.

  “Are you talking generally?” asked Franks. “Or do you actually know some financiers who might be available?”

  “So you’re interested?” demanded Nicky.

  “In the most general way,” cautioned Franks. “I haven’t been to any of the islands yet, to gauge the potential. I haven’t decided whether to switch my financing from England. And I haven’t decided that I want to change my usual company structuring to include anybody else.”

  Nicky raised his hands, in retreat. “Okay, okay; I’m not hustling. Just wanted to be sure. To see if there was a deal anywhere.”

  “There might be a deal,” said Franks, happy at his control of the meeting.

  “How long are you planning to be down there?”

  “For as long as it takes,” said Franks unhelpfully. “I’m not going to make any commitment about anything until I’m sure.” Nicky would be working for him, Franks decided. He liked the idea.

  “Mamma will enjoy having Tina and the kids with her for some time,” said Nicky.

  If he did create anything on the islands—and with the cruise ship already established—they would need a home of their own in America, thought Franks. That would please Tina. He said, “Don’t make any approaches until I get back.”

  Nicky raised his hands between them again. “You’re calling the shots.”

  Franks felt the best satisfaction yet. He said, “It would be good to be able to set something up.”

  “I’d like that, too,” said Nicky. “Remember Poppa said we’d make a hell of a combination?”

  Franks expected Enrico to mention the meeting during his last night in Westchester, but the old man didn’t, and Franks decided against doing so. He hadn’t decided anything yet. Nicky and the old man had obviously discussed it, and Franks thought that if he raised the question they might think he was more interested than he was. He spoke to Tina about it, though, when they were alone in their room and he was packing for the f
ollowing morning’s departure.

  “What are you going to do?” she said.

  “Too early to decide yet,” he said.

  “I’m not sure about mixing business with family,” she said. “What happens if you have a fight?”

  Franks turned away from the open suitcase, leaving the packing until the following day, and got into bed beside her. “It’s a good point,” he admitted. He still liked the idea of Nicky working for him.

  “Would it mean spending more time in America?”

  Franks smiled at the question, leaning across and kissing her. “Might even buy a house.”

  “I’d like that,” she said at once.

  Franks flew first to Bermuda and found he was already known from his businesses in Europe as well as from the success of the cruise liner. From the initial meeting with the tourist minister he was satisfied they would welcome the development. There were subsequent meetings with other officials, particularly with the island’s development board. Franks hired a car to explore the island, isolating prospective building sites, aware from the earlier meetings it would not be possible to buy existing properties. He found three possibilities, and from further meetings with the government learned that there would be no possibility of government finance. They wanted his hotels and his reputation but not any financial risk.

  Franks telephoned Tina twice and flew to the Bahamas at the end of the week. He scheduled meetings in advance of his arrival, as he had in Bermuda, with ranking officials. This time he hired a small aircraft for several days to visit the outlying islands and realized that here, too, he would have to build. Once again there was a reluctance on the part of the island government to commit itself financially.

  At the end of a fortnight Franks was sure he could operate successfully in both places. He would have preferred not to have to build and for the governments to be more willing to involve themselves, but objectively he recognized that the attitude reflected his customary way of working, not a reason for refusing to go ahead. As Nicky Scargo had said, it was a new venture. So maybe new ventures required new approaches. The reflection upon Nicky was a conscious one, the decision to be made there as important as the operation itself. Realistically Franks accepted the attraction: to raise finance through Nicky would establish an employer-to-employee relationship with someone with whom he’d competed throughout his life. And just as realistically, Franks recognized the feeling as stupid and juvenile, and one about which he should feel ashamed, after everything the Scargo family had done for him. Franks knew he would never completely succeed, but he made a conscious effort to subjugate the attitude and to consider instead Nicky’s offer simply upon its business attraction. The English banks had been difficult over the cruise liner. And sometimes they did charge as high as fourteen percent. So there were sound and proper business reasons for exploring things further with Nicky. And that’s all it would be, an exploration. He’d call as soon as he returned to New York. If he didn’t like the way things went, he could always withdraw and go back to his traditional sources of finance; it wouldn’t hurt, anyway, to let them know he was negotiating with other banks.