Max tried not to worry. The dodgy crew had arrived: Chuck Drew in late March, with a couple of associates, and in April Freddy joined them.
‘Grandpa wants me to get a good footing with the clients this end,’ he said to Max loftily. ‘It’s only a year’s posting, but it will ensure everybody knows me personally. I think it’s an excellent idea.’
Max nodded.
‘Oh, and by the way,’ said Freddy, looking at him, his blue eyes icy with dislike, ‘you do understand, don’t you, that you are to remain on the trading side? There is absolutely no question of your taking up a true executive position. No client contact, except at the most rudimentary level. Grandfather explained that to you, I’m sure.’
‘No,’ said Max, ‘not that I recall.’
‘Ah. Well he certainly stressed that to me,’ said Freddy.
‘Well in that case I’ll certainly try to remember,’ said Max.
The atmosphere in Praegers UK was not merely less happy than it had been; it was uneasy. Peter Donaldson was still nominally heading it up, but Chuck Drew was doing a good job of demoralizing him, and denuding him of status and responsibility, countermanding his instructions, negating his decisions, muscling in on his meetings, undermining his relationship with his staff. Charlotte, who liked Donaldson, was upset and said as much to Freddy. Freddy turned eyes on her that were dark with dislike and told her not to interfere in matters that did not concern her.
‘But it does concern me. He’s my boss.’
‘Then I suggest you concentrate on working for him,’ said Freddy. He was almost as angry at Charlotte’s prospective move to New York as he had been about Max’s arrival in the London office.
‘He feels threatened,’ said Max. ‘He thought he’d got rid of you.’
‘According to Gabe, he still could,’ said Charlotte. ‘He and Chris Hill and Chuck have a majority shareholding now. Well not now, but when – if Grandpa goes.’
‘He’ll never go,’ said Max easily. ‘He’s immortal.’
Chuck Drew was a masterly tactician. He was an exceptionally good-looking man, tall, slim, with brown hair and blue eyes, superbly dressed and very charming; he was a generous host, both in the finest restaurants in London, and at his home in Sloane Street, a fine tennis player, a good raconteur. It was extremely difficult to see him as a villain; even Charlotte found herself laughing at his jokes, enjoying his overt appreciation of her work. It was only when he had been in the St James’s offices for two months that she realized that what she was doing became less responsible and interesting every day, that her client contact had been dramatically reduced, and that somehow whenever a mistake had been made, her department seemed to have made it. And then Chuck would put his arm round her, tell her she was usually such a clever girl, that everyone made mistakes, that he even made them himself at times, and that of course no one was going to hold it against her.
He was evil; but he was hard to hate.
There were some very unpleasant sharp practices going on at Praegers as well. It hadn’t taken Max long to discover them. Jake had given him a crash course in what to look out for in his first week at Mortons.
‘There’s piggy-backing. Big favourite. You meet someone at a party who says I’m thinking of putting half a million into ready-mixed concrete. Can you give me a ring tomorrow? So you go in with the lark, buy half a million worth yourself, see the price go up, and then sell them to your client. You make your profit and your commission. And watch for the rings. Five guys from one of the big institutions. Agree on a stock over lunch, ring five different market makers and order fifty thousand from each one. Zoom goes the price. Easy peasy. Any client in the know can have lots of fun and games. And then there’s the contract-note dodge. Very neat. Very neat indeed. You’re a bit short of money, so you make up a client. Buy and sell shares for him. Get lots of lovely commission.’
Within a month of Drew’s arrival at Praegers, Max had either observed for himself, or heard of, both contract-note dodges and piggy-backing. It was only on a small scale, but it was certainly going on. He told Charlotte, who told Donaldson; Donaldson said short of telling Fred III, there was nothing he could do. ‘Those are Chuck Drew’s men, and he’ll neither believe it nor care.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t care too much myself, Charlotte, to be honest. I think I’m about to be sent on holiday.’
‘Oh, that’ll be nice,’ said Charlotte, misunderstanding. Donaldson smiled grimly.
‘You don’t understand. It’s the old joke about the holiday, you know? “He has two holidays a year and they’re both six months.”’
‘Oh God,’ said Charlotte. ‘This is a seriously bad mess. What do we do, Max?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Max. ‘Sit it out, I guess. I wish I’d stayed at Mortons.’
‘I don’t,’ said Charlotte. ‘I need all the help I can get.’
‘There’s not much I can do,’ said Max.
‘No, but at least you’re here.’
‘Yes, and you’re going back to New York.’
‘Not yet. Grandpa keeps putting it off. I don’t know what he’s playing at.’
Fred III, against his doctor’s advice, was back at work almost every day – playing at lots of things, and hugely enjoying them. He had adopted in the New York office the practice Bobby Lehman had instigated at Lehman Brothers, when he was choosing a successor: he put all the top executives in a committee and rotated their functions every month. It was a most effective way of confusing and demoralizing all the partners.
‘Well, at least Chuck Drew isn’t in that league,’ said Charlotte to Max.
‘No, but he’s doing a lot of damage here. I wonder –’ He looked at Charlotte. ‘I just wonder if that isn’t part of a game.’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Grandad must have decided he trusts him. And of course he’s completely blind about Freddy. I must talk to Angie some more about Chuck. She knows something more than she’s said.’
Charlotte seemed to be part of another game: one day Fred would say he wanted her over in New York in a matter of weeks; another he would talk vaguely about the autumn.
‘It’s so frustrating,’ she wailed to Max. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.’
‘I expect it’s quite frustrating for poor old Gabe as well,’ said Max.
‘Oh do shut up,’ said Charlotte.
There were other disreputable things going on. Chuck Drew had imported several Arab clients: everyone was instructed to respect their still Croesan wealth and to do everything they asked. This was fine as long as it extended only to meeting them with ever more lush limos at the airports, using the bank’s cars to take the wives shopping, escorting them to polo games, keeping bank clerks behind sometimes for two hours checking and changing up to fifty thousand pounds’ worth of dollars which they were handed in grubby plastic bags five minutes before closing time, and meeting their immense gambling debts – sometimes for weeks at a time until they settled. It was not unknown for a single client to run up debts of a million a week at the casinos. But when Peter Donaldson was asked to organize whores to accompany the men to the polo matches, he said enough was enough and finally resigned. Fred III was told by Chuck Drew that he had resigned on health grounds; Donaldson, who knew when he was beaten, didn’t argue. Charlotte cried the day he left, and said she couldn’t believe how quickly things had gone downhill, and she and Max and all the other traders took him out and got him extremely drunk.
And then there was something much more sinister going on. At first it manifested itself in a few isolated incidents, and it never affected Max. But once or twice John Fisher, one of the salesmen he had become friendly with, came back from a meeting with Chuck looking concerned.
‘What’s up?’ asked Max. ‘Had your bonus cut?’
‘No,’ said Fisher. ‘No. It’s nothing. Honestly.’
Max shrugged. ‘OK. Don’t tell me.’
After this had happened a second time, he took Fisher out and got him
drunk. Fisher told him he had been put under pressure by Chuck to push shares in certain companies in which he personally had no faith.
‘And in which I guess our friend has an interest,’ said Max. ‘Well don’t do it.’
‘No. Well, but – that’s easy to say. He’ll check on it. Oh – I don’t know. It happens all the time, I’m sure.’
He sounded miserable. Max grinned at him.
‘Course it does. Don’t worry. It’s all in the game, as my friend Jake would say.’
But he knew it would not have happened at Mortons; and it should not have happened at Praegers.
‘The Chinese wall is developing chinks,’ he said to Charlotte. ‘Watch it. We may have something tangible to hit Drew with soon.’
One of Chuck Drew’s imports was an analyst called Vernon Bligh. Max disliked Vernon at first sight; he was very tall and thin and he wore a signet ring with a crest on it and an Old Etonian tie. ‘There’s a jeweller in Ealing knocking out those crests,’ said Max to John Fisher, ‘all the boys are ordering them. Jake told me about him. And I can tell you the nearest Bligh ever got to Eton was a day trip to Slough.’
He spent a happy lunchtime quizzing and tripping up Bligh about his house, his year, the games he’d played, the prep school he’d come from.
‘Game set and match,’ he said cheerfully to Fisher as they got back to the office. ‘Did you see his face when I said I remembered seeing him one Fourth of July? The relief. The fakes always fall for that one.’
‘I didn’t get it,’ said Fisher nervously. ‘What’s so great about the fourth of July?’
‘Because it’s the Fourth of June at Eton,’ said Max patiently. ‘Fourth of July is American Independence Day.’
Bligh undoubtedly had Chuck Drew’s ear. And was in his pocket. Analysts need to be honest, above reproach; if they are not they’re dangerous. They look at companies, assess their value, and then advise the salesmen on the viability or otherwise of a forthcoming issue. Vernon Bligh advised the salesmen however Chuck Drew told him. Several of the clients found their stock heavily promoted and sold, and rewarded Chuck handsomely. If the companies did not then perform quite up to scratch that was felt to be the shareholders’ problem. But in the early days that summer, when share prices continued to soar to unprecedented heights, there was no problem anyway. A company needed to be almost totally incompetent for its shares to lose value; money was always available for shoring up. On paper the new Praegers UK was doing well: a considerably increased client list, and an immensely active trading floor. Fred III, Gabe reported from New York, never stopped singing Chuck Drew’s praises.
Georgina called Max at the bank. She sounded upset.
‘I don’t know what to do, Max. Everyone says I have to tell Kendrick about George and I just don’t want to.’
‘Who’s everyone?’ Max had most of his mind still on the screen. There was something going on: a lot of shares were climbing. Big bid coming in, maybe.
‘Well – Charlotte mostly. And Nanny. It’s because Aunt Mary Rose is coming over.’
‘What on earth for?’
‘Oh – some book research. She’s been in touch with Daddy.’
‘I can’t see what difference that makes. Even if she finds out. George doesn’t have to be Kendrick’s baby.’
‘No, but I expect he can still count.’ Georgina sounded gloomy. ‘And Daddy says he’s bound to let it out. I mean that George exists.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought that necessarily followed,’ said Max. Shit, this thing was big: another three points.
‘Why not, Max? Max, are you listening?’
‘Yes. Yes I’m listening.’ God, he wished she’d let him get back to the screen; it was like trying not to come. ‘What I mean is, I don’t see why Alexander can’t be asked to keep his mouth shut. He’s quite good at keeping secrets, I would have thought.’ He knew it sounded harsh; he didn’t care.
‘Oh Max, don’t. Poor Daddy, he tries so hard. Well anyway, I thought I might go and stay with Granny Caterham for a few days. She has asked me. I’d be safe up there. What do you think? At least I wouldn’t actually bump into Mary Rose.’
‘Good idea,’ said Max.‘Very good idea.’
‘Good.’ She sounded pleased. ‘Well if you think so, I will.’
‘All right, Georgina. That’s settled then.’ It was very sweet the way she asked him for advice: as if he was both older and wiser than she was. He was very much aware he was neither.
‘Max! Call on three!’
‘Max! Will you take a look at this screen! It’s going crazy.’
‘Max! Have we missed something, or have we missed something?’
‘I’ve got to go,’ he said to Georgina. ‘Have fun in Scotland.’
It was an oyster that did it; an oyster was the catalyst that brought them all so close, so dangerously, powerfully close. Max was sitting at his desk the day Mary Rose was due to fly in to London, trying to calculate how much commission he had made in the past month and considering putting down some money on a new flat, when the phone rang.
‘Max? This is your father.’
Max hesitated briefly, thinking, imagining Tommy; then realized, it was Alexander. Alexander sounding frail and distant.
‘Max, I’m not well. I’ve eaten an oyster. Ignored the old dictum, I’m afraid. No R in June.’
‘No. Alexander, I’m sorry. You sound dreadful.’
‘I feel dreadful. It’s all most – most unattractive, I’m afraid. I can’t ever remember being so ill. Horribly ill.’
‘Yes, well they’re nasty things, oysters.’
‘Indeed they are. Now listen, Max. Mary Rose is arriving this evening. At Heathrow. I had promised to meet her.’
‘You had?’ Max was astonished. Even given that Mary Rose had arranged to see Alexander, it seemed surprising he was actually coming to London to meet her.
‘Yes. It seemed only courteous. After all, she has no friends in London now. Anyway, I quite clearly can’t.’
‘No-o.’ Max’s attention was still half on his commission.
‘Max? Max, are you there?’
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘Max, I’d like you to meet her. Take her out to dinner this evening, see her into her hotel.’
‘Alexander, I can’t do that. I’m going to the theatre.’
‘Well, maybe Charlotte could – oh God, Max, I have to go. Meet her, would you please, and look after her. We can talk again in the morning.’
‘Yes, all right,’ said Max, alarmed at the pain in Alexander’s voice. ‘Don’t worry. Have you had the doctor?’
‘Yes, I have. Goodbye, Max.’
The phone slammed down. Max looked at it, and sighed. He and Gemma had been going to the theatre. He had got tickets for Phantom. She was going to be absolutely furious …
He buzzed Charlotte’s phone to ask her if she could help, but she was having dinner with old friends. ‘And I’m not letting them down, Max, it’s been arranged for a long time.’
‘No, all right, all right,’ said Max crossly. ‘It’s not my problem either.’
‘I’ll look after her,’ said Tommy. ‘Don’t worry about it. You can tell her you have theatre tickets, and you’ll be back as soon as possible. She’ll understand. We can all have a nightcap together then.’
‘Tommy, I can’t help feeling this is dangerous.’
‘Max! Do you really think I’m going to spill the beans? You know how discreet I am. I’ll be an old family friend, and charm itself. I promise. Besides, I’m curious to meet your aunt.’
‘Well – I suppose it might – oh, but Alexander will be furious. I can’t think why he’s so bothered about her, he never liked her.’
‘Max, by the time I’ve finished with the lady, she won’t tell Alexander. Don’t worry. I’ll take her to the Rue St Jacques, I think. I imagine I have carte blanche on expenses for the occasion? Yes, I thought so. You can come and meet us there at – what – eleven?’
‘Oh – all right. Yes. That’d be great. Tommy, you’re ace.’
‘Don’t talk about aces, Max. I did have a poker school planned for tonight.’
Max walked into the restaurant just in time to see Tommy raise his brandy glass to Mary Rose, and her smile at him, reach out and cover his hand with her own.
‘Tommy,’ she was saying, ‘you are absolutely the very first, indeed, the only person to understand how I feel about that. I’m amazed that someone outside the family could be so sensitive to the situation.’
‘Goodness,’ he said, smiling at them both, ‘I seem to have arrived at a delicate moment. Shall I go away again?’
‘Of course not,’ said Tommy, gazing up at him, his very blue eyes innocently wide. ‘We’re delighted to see you.’ Max noticed that he had not moved his hand. ‘Come and sit down. Is Gemma not with you?’
‘No,’ said Max, ‘she had a headache.’
This was a slight understatement for the screaming tantrum Gemma had thrown when she heard he was not after all going to take her out for an expensive dinner à deux, but it was adequate for the occasion. He bent and kissed his aunt. ‘How are you, Aunt Mary Rose?’
‘I’m well thank you, Max. Your friend Mr Soames-Maxwell has been looking after me so nicely.’
‘I’m delighted,’ said Max, pulling up a chair. ‘I’m only sorry I couldn’t be with you myself.’
‘Poor Gemma,’ said Tommy, finally and slowly withdrawing his hand. ‘Would you like some Armagnac, Max?’
‘How kind,’ said Max, smiling at him through faintly gritted teeth.
‘I was just telling your aunt,’ went on Tommy, picking a very large Romeo y Julieta from the box the waiter had offered him, ‘how well you were doing at Praegers, and that I thought it might be just a little hard for her to see the bank filling up with Caterhams. That she must feel her own family has been perhaps a little sidestepped. After what must have been a great deal of hard work, raising them and so on.’
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