The Invisible Hand
Page 6
BASHIR: What a boss is, innit?
NICK: There was actually an attempted coup in the department. I’d been there six months. Which was long enough to see that Martin was a moron. I didn’t know this at the time… I was the hire he made trying to shore up his base of support. So everyone was suspicious of me. At least at first. But I was in tight with the Gaznoor family.
BASHIR: Right.
NICK: I’d gone to business school with Shafat. It was how I ended up at Citi here in Pakistan, actually.
So anyway, point is, my co-workers realized I was an asset. So they ended up trying to bring me in on the plan to get rid of Martin.
BASHIR: What happened?
NICK: Carey’s a moron, but they were amateurs. Hadn’t solidified their relationships with the higher-ups. They made their move too soon. Half-dozen people got fired. I’d basically stayed out of it and ended up getting a promotion.
BASHIR: No blood on your hands.
NICK: Never.
Bashir takes up Nick’s notepad.
BASHIR: So what are these?
NICK: Just some simple options trades. Rupee-related stuff.
BASHIR: You love the rupee.
NICK: Love to hate it.
(Beat)
One more major political crisis—which is inevitable—and the rupee is bust. There is a killing to be made on shorting the rupee.
BASHIR: What would the play be?
NICK: Buying currency puts.
BASHIR: Puts. Right. So why don’t we just stock up on ’em?
NICK: Well, trouble with waiting on a political crisis is it could take two months, or it could take two years. Impossible to hold on to a position big enough to be meaningful for an indefinite period of time like that.
BASHIR: Right.
(Beat)
Pakistanis had any sense in their brains, they’d be tying the rupee to a basket.
NICK: A what?
BASHIR: Basket of currencies.
Beat.
NICK (Surprised): You’re right.
BASHIR: Don’t be so surprised. Got the idea from you, Nick.
NICK: We never talked about—
BASHIR (Cutting him off): From your thesis. Have it on my phone.
(Pulling it out)
“Bretton Woods and the Changing Role of the Central Bank.” By Nicholas E. Bright.
NICK: You have my senior thesis on your iPhone?
BASHIR: Typed your name into LexisNexis. Was one of the first things that came up.
NICK: My Princeton senior thesis?
BASHIR: Haven’t finished it yet. Just started that chapter on currency being king. You know what? You should have called this thing “The Secret Economic History of the World.”
NICK: It’s not a secret.
BASHIR: To most people? Sure is.
NICK: And what’s the secret, exactly?
BASHIR: That it wasn’t military power that took over the world. It was the dollar.
NICK: I see.
BASHIR: What?
NICK: I mean, that’s not actually true, but…
BASHIR: How’s it not true?
NICK: Bretton Woods just laid a framework—
BASHIR: For the U.S. dollar to be at the center.
NICK: —to be the support.
BASHIR: The center.
Beat.
NICK: I get that you hate America, Bashir. But at a certain point, I hope for you that you’ll outgrow your prejudices—especially when they have nothing to do with reality.
BASHIR: Nick. The dollar is a piece of paper. It’s not gold. But the U.S. figured out a way to make everyone think it was gold. To treat it like gold. I mean, all those years the whole world was looking up to you—my parents’ generation? They thought America was the greatest place on the planet. It was all because you made us depend on the dollar, and then you stuffed them down our throats with a smile.
NICK: Stuffed them down your throats?
BASHIR (Ignoring, continuing): The blokes running the central banks, right? Those are the real power brokers. He who controls the currency controls the world.
NICK: You’re completely missing the most important thing.
BASHIR: Which is?
NICK: Intent.
(Beat)
Look, were we at the top of the food chain? Yes. But for a good reason. We were the only major nation that hadn’t destroyed itself in the Second World War. Europe was in shambles. If we hadn’t come in…
BASHIR: What? If you hadn’t come in, what?
NICK: The period of worldwide economic growth and peace after World War Two? Wouldn’t have happened.
(Beat)
We were the only ones who could guarantee liquidity. You need money to get something done? We’ll give it to you.
BASHIR: In dollars.
NICK: Yes. And it turns out you don’t want anything else, because it’s the only thing that’s stable. We’ll spend money on military security, and we’ll even create this thing called the IMF that will help you out if you get behind. We’ll create the conditions to make it all work. So that we can grow together. Countries that can’t trade with one another go to war against each other. Very few wars have been fought between countries that have McDonald’s.
(Beat)
Bretton Woods was actually about creating the conditions for cooperation. Growth. Peace.
BASHIR: That’s what they all say, innit?
NICK: They?
BASHIR: The Spanish?
Went to the New World telling everyone they wanted to bring Christ to the heathens.
What were they really doing?
Taking gold, silver, taking land.
Then, the English?
Went all over the world, bringing civilization to the savages. What were they really doing?
Taking tea, rubber, diamonds. Taking land.
And now, America has the whole world in its hands. Wants to bring growth, cooperation, peace. With Bretton Woods. Democracy. With the war in Iraq.
But what are you really doing?
NICK: Look…
Power is what it is.
Some have it. Some don’t.
Those who don’t, want it.
The best the rest of us can hope for?
That those who have it will use it well.
For all its faults, America tries to use it well.
BASHIR: You really believe that, don’t you?
NICK: I do.
Beat.
BASHIR: The first time I’ve ever heard you…
NICK: What?
BASHIR: I don’t know. Express an opinion.
NICK: Yeah. Well. This is one I actually believe.
BASHIR: Guess everyone’s got their version of faith.
NICK: Well…
BASHIR: I’m going to miss you.
NICK: Haven’t gone anywhere yet.
BASHIR: At the rate you work? You’re almost on seven million. And you know what? I’ll be happy for you, when you’re out of here and back home with your family.
Dar reenters and whispers in Bashir’s ear.
BASHIR (CONT’D): He did?
DAR (In Punjabi): What do you want me to do?
BASHIR: Keep an eye on him.
NICK: So you can get anybody’s Princeton senior thesis just by typing it in?
BASHIR: Got yours.
(Beat)
It’s good, Nick. You’re a good writer.
NICK: I don’t know about that.
BASHIR: No, you are. Made me think I shoulda gone to uni to read economics.
NICK: There’s still time, Bashir. There’s still time.
Lights Out.
Act Two: Scene Two
Four days later.
Bashir and Dar stand downstage, in the middle of a conversation—an air of intrigue between them.
Upstage, the only door to the room is open. From which we may hear a few discrete sounds. Humming.
The conversation is partly in Punjabi (italicized).
DAR: I ke
pt a good distance from the car. He didn’t see me or the scooter. They drove around for some time, then went into the city.
BASHIR: And then?
DAR: I lost him—
BASHIR: Lost him? You lost him? How could you lose him? That’s the only thing you had to do…
DAR: Just for a little while. There were so many people in the bazaar…—I went back to their car. And I waited.
BASHIR: Okay.
DAR: They came back after a few minutes, got into the car, and drove to an office.
BASHIR: They?
DAR: He was with his wife.
BASHIR: His wife? Imam Saleem went to pick up his wife?
DAR: Yes.
BASHIR: From where?
DAR: I don’t know. But she had a bag of sweets.
BASHIR: Sweets?
DAR: Jehan Sweet Shop.
BASHIR: What?
DAR: They have very good gulab jamun there. Everybody goes for the gulab jamun.
BASHIR: Okay. I get it.
DAR: They drove to Murree.
BASHIR: Murree…
DAR: They parked outside a black building. He went inside.
BASHIR: Did he go inside alone?
Dar nods.
BASHIR (CONT’D): What was the building?
DAR: Some kind of office.
BASHIR: Office? Office for what?
DAR: When he came out, it was with a man.
BASHIR: Who?
DAR: I don’t know.
BASHIR: Then what?
DAR: They went into the car, and drove to a house.
BASHIR: Do you know whose house it was?
DAR: Letters in the mailbox said Khurrum Chaudury…
BASHIR: Khurrum Chaudury.
DAR: They went inside. And when they came out, she didn’t have the bag of sweets.
BASHIR: How long were they inside?
DAR: Thirty minutes.
Beat.
BASHIR: Who is Khurrum Chaudury? I never heard that name.
DAR: I called Rashid.
Interrupting the conversation—
From offstage, through the open door, we now hear Nick’s voice:
NICK (O.S.): I’m finished. Can you unlock me?
BASHIR (To Dar): Go take care of him. But wait…
Bashir takes out a thick wad of dollars. Peels off bills. Handing them to Dar.
Dar takes them. Visibly surprised. Grateful.
BASHIR (CONT’D): Don’t lose him again.
DAR: Hundred dollar?
BASHIR: And don’t forget: half of it’s for you. The other half you give to someone who needs it.
Dar pockets the bills. Walks out.
Beat.
Finally, Nick enters. Led in by Dar. One of Nick’s wrists is in a handcuff.
Nick uses a key to undo the other cuff.
He removes them and hands them to Dar.
NICK (To Bashir): I was just thinking I want to go over that list of rupee-related stuff I gave you a few days ago. I want to try some of those trades again.
BASHIR: Sure thing.
DAR: I call Rashid now. Find out.
BASHIR: You do that.
NICK: Find out what?
BASHIR: Excuse me?
NICK: I mean—
Right.
(After Dar’s exit)
So the other thing…—I want to check on that Communion Capital special dividend. See if that came through.
BASHIR: Absolutely.
NICK: You still logged in?
BASHIR: I’ll do that now.
Bashir goes to the computer and types.
NICK: The funds should have hit the account this morning.
BASHIR (Reading off the screen): There it is. Communion Capital. Two hundred sixteen thousand four hundred.
NICK: Good. That puts us just over seven point one million?
BASHIR: Yep.
NICK: A hundred and forty-four percent in three months. If anybody knew? I’d probably make the cover of Forbes magazine.
Nick peers over Bashir’s shoulder.
NICK (CONT’D): Wait a second. Does that say two million three hundred thousand?
BASHIR: It’s not what you’re thinking.
NICK: What am I thinking?
BASHIR: The money’s all there. It’s just in a few different accounts now.
NICK: Different accounts?
BASHIR: Moving funds.
NICK: Why?
BASHIR: We can trade out of these, too…
NICK: Bashir. Why are you moving money?
BASHIR: Covering our tracks, Nick. Keeping a low profile. The more money we make, the more attention there is on us. Isn’t anybody needs to be knowing what we’re doing.
NICK: Attention from who?
BASHIR (Off Nick’s continued suspicion): It’s all there. See:
(Typing)
Two point seven in that account…
(Typing again)
Two even in that one.
(Beat)
It’s all right, Nick. Really is. For the best.
NICK: As long as we can keep trading out of them, I guess I don’t care.
Pause.
BASHIR: At some point, we should be thinking about moving the money offshore. Cayman or some such, innit?
NICK: Cayman?
BASHIR: I mean that’s what you were doing with your money, right?
NICK: If that’s what Imam Saleem wants to do.
BASHIR: Right.
NICK: I mean, we can ask him…
BASHIR: You don’t need to be bothering him about it.
He’s been a little distracted, ’f you know what I mean.
NICK: Distracted?
BASHIR: You know. Like your boss, Carey Martin.
NICK: Uh-huh.
BASHIR: Taking credit for things he doesn’t do.
Just as Dar returns.
BASHIR (CONT’D): (To Dar) What is it?
DAR: Rashid.
Part of the following in Punjabi:
DAR (CONT’D): That house is for sale.
BASHIR: The house is for sale?
DAR: I remember. That building the man came out of… It had a real estate office.
BASHIR: Real estate. That must be why he had his wife. They must have been looking at the house. Fucking hell. What’s the asking price of the house?
DAR: I’ll call him back.
BASHIR: Find out.
(Beat, then calling Dar back)
Dar.
(In Punjabi)
Chain him up.
Dar returns and begins to bind Nick.
Bashir stews as he begins packing up.
NICK: Everything okay?
BASHIR: Just fine.
NICK: Yeah?
BASHIR: Good thing we started moving that money around, Nick.
NICK: Why is that?
BASHIR: Let’s just say it’s a good thing.
No reply.
BASHIR (CONT’D): (Packing, to himself) Fucking hell…
NICK: Where you going?
BASHIR: I’ll be back.
Nick watches Bashir pack up. Finally:
NICK: Look, Bashir.
BASHIR: Yeah?
Pause.
NICK: Be careful.
BASHIR: What are you talking about, Nick?
Beat.
NICK: I’m just saying. Don’t make your move too soon.
Beat.
BASHIR: Okay.
Pause.
Lights Out.
Act Two: Scene Three
That night.
Outside, the sounds of a night alive with insects.
Nick on his cot. Reading a copy of the comic book—Archie. Hands down his pants.
When there are sounds outside. Someone approaching.
Then sounds at the door. The lock loudly snapping.
The door opens, and Imam Saleem enters…
IMAM SALEEM: Nicholas.
NICK: Imam.
Nick swings his legs off the bed, the chains making noise as he doe
s. Bound once again by the shackles.