The Squeeze

by Paul Schueller

  “God, you are a literal son of a bitch. Let’s move along since I am totally ready to call it a career any time now,” Pat cautioned.

  “Not yet. We have to turn up the heat. The market is going to go up, and you’re going to help force it. I want you to take all the money, leverage it as much as the banks will let you, and keep buying everything you can until the money runs out. You need to do it all in two days. You’ll know when to sell.”

  “How?”

  “When you think you’ve made enough money. Sell it all at once. Make a big splash. Then, talk it up with all your new-found industry buddies. Throw some money around town.”

  “Calling it a career sounded better to me,” Pat frowned on the other side of the phone.

  “Do me another favor. Stay away from the Intercontinental the weekend when Jenny is down. I don’t need to be bumping into you.”

  “Why?”

  “Don’t ask,” Tommy said.

  “Ugh. Crap.”

  “And pay your taxes,” Tommy continued.

  “I’m not an idiot.”

  “And never use my name.”

  “Again, not an idiot.” Pat was getting perturbed.

  “Just making sure. This is going to get uglier.”

  “Since I can’t be near you or Jenny, I kind of figured what to do and what not to do on my own. Just because I’m from your little old hometown and haven’t been in this business before doesn’t mean you can treat me like your bitch,” Pat said.

  “I get it, but please, just do what I asked.”

  Pat was not too interested in seeing more of this side of Tommy.

  “Hopefully, I don’t hear from you for a while,” Pat growled, and hung up.

  Tommy knew that Pat was one of the nicest, most engaging, and genuinely fun people to be around. Everyone liked and could relate to Pat, and here Tommy was turning him into something else.

  Tommy headed for home and planned to just go about his business for the next two weeks until Jenny was in town. The timing looked like it would work out perfectly for him. Pat would be busy, and Tommy could make a little money working with his old environmental and public relations contacts . . . a little consulting work to stop him from losing the condo and starving. He almost hoped that Doug would be wasting his time watching him.

  27

  A week went by and Tommy went about his routine of doing freelance consulting. He spotted Doug twice, waved, and smiled. Tommy wasn’t sure if Doug wanted to be seen to somehow intimidate him or if Doug was just bad at surveillance. It didn’t matter to Tommy. He figured if he could just wait him out, Doug’s bosses were bound to give up on this.

  On Saturday morning, Tommy was hanging out at his favorite neighborhood coffee shop. It was crowded, but Tommy really didn’t mind being near people. He just generally didn’t like being with them. He was getting work done, making some money, and this glimpse of a normal life had his spirits up. He sat uncomfortably close to the person occupying his preferred corner table until they left, hiding under cover of the background noise, only occasionally looking up to see people laughing, smiling, interacting, and clearly living fuller and more interesting lives than his.

  The caffeine kicked in, and he was frantically writing notes about all of the things that he wanted to do with his life. The garbled grumbling of the espresso machine, the music, and conversations seemingly escalating to be heard over each other allowed Tommy shelter. There was just clarity and focus.

  He was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice Doug grab the chair and sit down across from him. Doug waited patiently for Tommy to notice. Finally, Tommy looked up, and of course, Doug gained perverse pleasure from the sheer level of disappointment etched on Tommy’s face upon seeing him. Tommy had been happy, if only for a few minutes.

  “What the hell do you want now?” Tommy said. “Haven’t you got kicked off this case yet?”

  “Funny you should ask. I have to admit, it might have been getting close, but then we received an anonymous call that you might be connected to commodities trading through a Mr. Pat Marcum. Would you like to comment on that?”

  “Anonymous, my ass. John called you,” Tommy said, somewhat nervously.

  “I can neither confirm nor deny that,” Doug said smugly and continued, “So, I’ll be getting some help on this from the SEC, but just to save some time, would you like to comment on your association with Mr. Marcum?”

  “Well, first of all, I'm sure you'll actually be getting help from the Commodities Futures Trading Commission since this is a commodity issue, not a stock exchange issue,” Tommy said.

  “Yeah, them,” Doug responded, “but the SEC sounds more impressive.”

  “Whatever. So, I’m sure you already know that Pat and I were friends in high school and college,” Tommy said.

  “Roommates actually, right?” Doug replied “Probably still pretty tight.”

  “I kind of moved on. We have been out of touch for nearly twenty years.”

  “Okay, sure. Well, I’ll be in touch,” Doug said and started to get up. “You know, he’s still playing you,” Tommy offered.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “John. He’s feeding you things to keep the stink off of him, and you’re buying it.”

  “Well, you’re trying to do the same thing to him, except he’s more believable. I’m not going away,” Doug said, and he walked out into the midmorning sun.

  Tommy looked down at his pad of paper. He read his words from just a few minutes earlier: visit all the national parks, save a life, help businesses realize their environmental vision. It was trite, shallow, naïve, and idealistic crap. He felt like a fool. Only one thing really mattered now.

  Tommy had hoped to get John’s attention with Pat’s success and grandstanding, and this was certainly an indication that he had accomplished that. He hadn’t, however, expected John to go to the police.

  It really didn’t change his plan. It was just going to make it more difficult.

  Tommy was edgy and nervous now. For the first time in more than a month, he reached into his bag and popped a couple Klonopin into his mouth. Tommy had originally gotten a prescription as a treatment for a panic disorder, but he abused it in larger quantities as a tranquilizer. There was nothing he was going to do about Pat until after Jenny was in town the next weekend. He just needed to relax and keep going, like nothing was wrong, biding his time until next Saturday. He couldn’t believe how often he was thinking about Jenny. Nice, he thought, to obsess over something pleasant for once.

  28

  Tommy feared that the week might never end, but Saturday morning finally arrived. He was to meet Jenny in the Intercontinental lobby. She had come down the night before to go to dinner with friends. Tommy and Jenny had planned to spend a few hours on Saturday at Navy Pier and walk on the lakefront.

  Tommy was anxious and arrived at the hotel a bit early. He was generally late for things, other than for Jenny, and wanted to start the day off right. He scanned the coffee shop area for a place to sit and was pleasantly surprised to see Jenny. She was talking to someone who had his back to Tommy, and at first Jenny didn’t see him coming. Jenny then looked up, smiled brightly, rose quickly, and met him halfway. She gave him a warm, comfortable hug and said she missed him. Tommy was locked in on her eyes and equally as glad, or more, to see her, but as he hugged her, he looked down to see Jenny’s coffee guest, who had turned. It was John.

  Tommy grabbed Jenny by the shoulders and steered her to the side and then faced John, who was still sitting. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Tommy roared.

  John smirked at Tommy, knowing that he had obviously rattled him.

  “Having coffee with this lovely woman. You two obviously know each other. Small world.”

  “Small world, my ass,” Tommy said. “Stay the hell away from me and from her and from Pat.”

  Jenny butted in. “Tommy, stop being so rude!”

  John spoke next. “Well, looks
like you two have some things to work out, so it’s probably best if I go. Tommy, maybe I’ll see you around town.

  There’s been a lot of interesting market activity, so I thought I’d check it out first-hand.”

  “Doubt you’ll run into me,” Tommy said.

  “Right. Should be interesting. Jenny, nice meeting you last night and thanks for the coffee,” John turned and left for the elevators around the corner.

  Tommy waited a few seconds until he knew John was gone and turned back to Jenny. “That was John. The John.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that, but how was I supposed to know?”

  “Did you go out with him? Did you sleep with him?” Tommy huffed, unable to control his emotions wondering how much was jealousy and how much had to do with hating John.

  “What?!”

  “Well, you met last night, at a hotel, and here you are in the morning . . .” Tommy said, obviously hurt and still trying to sort through his own reaction. He was confused, not really even knowing what it was like to feel jealous.

  “You’re insane.”

  “What am I supposed to think?” Tommy yelled.

  “I don’t owe you an explanation, but here it is. He talked to me and my friends last night. He was nice. He asked us all if we wanted to have coffee in the morning, and we said yes. The others just left to take a walk, and I was waiting for you,” Jenny said.

  “And you think that was a coincidence?” Tommy pushed.

  “Obviously, now that I know who he is, no,” Jenny said.

  “Good, then you won’t see him again. Let’s get out of here.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I’m not going anywhere with you today, and you certainly won’t decide who I see. I don’t want any part of you today,” Jenny said.

  “Ah, come on, please?” Tommy begged.

  “No. I’ll be catching up with my friends for the day.” Jenny was fuming and offended. She dialed her cell phone and walked out onto the street without saying another word or even looking back at Tommy.

  He slumped down at the table that John, Jenny, and her friends had used. He could still smell her for a few moments before the memory was overpowered by coffee. He sat there, finishing Jenny’s coffee, knowing that was as close as he would get to her today. In an instant, he had thrown away all that he looked forward to for two weeks.

  Then, John strolled back up to Tommy, confident and smug. “Looks like things didn’t work out for you and Jenny today. Too bad, and she told me how much she was looking forward to today.”

  “Leave me alone,” Tommy said.

  “See, I can’t do that because I know that you’re behind this Marcum character. He’s all over town spending money. Everyone’s buddy, from what I’ve been hearing. Makes me sick,” John said.

  Tommy’s eyes had been dead, but lit up slightly. “That sounds a little bitter. Is he spending money that had been yours?” Tommy asked.

  “No, I didn’t say that,” John said defensively.

  “Your body did. Now I get it. Sore loser.” Tommy felt the need to ridicule John. To hurt him.

  “I won’t be losing for long. Speaking of losers, it’s you today, man.

  Hard to have a beautiful woman walk out on you. Can’t imagine there are that many even interested.”

  “Jenny and I will be fine,” Tommy said.

  “Maybe. We’ll see. Remember, I’ll be around. Might even go over and talk to Detective McClellan, see if I can help him out,” John said.

  “You do that,” Tommy said. “I know your angle.”

  “If by my ‘angle’ you mean trying to catch George’s killer, if there is one, then yes,” John replied.

  “Don’t give me that. You just don’t want him looking at you.”

  “Really, Tommy, you have this all figured out. I feel sorry for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I didn’t do anything to George either, but you think the world’s picking on you. It’s not. McClellan has evidence. You still don’t know what’s on that phone message or anything else he has, do you?”

  “No. Do you?” Tommy was curious to know what John seemed to know.

  “There was one message from me, so that’s why I know about them. They had some questions about it.”

  “What was the message?” Tommy asked.

  “Why don’t you ask McClellan? I’m not in the mood to help you out,” John said.

  “I hope Pat keeps kicking your ass,” Tommy said with a smile, he and got up, heading out into the July morning sun in the opposite direction from where Jenny had gone.

  29

  Tommy, still fuming, walked a few blocks south on Michigan before calling Pat.

  “What?” is all Pat said when he answered his phone.

  “Not much of a greeting,” Tommy snorted.

  “Well, these days when you call my stress level usually goes through the roof, and you were a complete ass the last time we spoke.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I guess I can be just a touch overbearing, but are things working out each time?” Tommy asked.

  “A touch overbearing? You’re an ass beyond normal comprehension, but yes, things are going well. It’s been a couple of months of full-time trading and we are up more millions than I could have ever expected.

  Let’s just put a couple of million aside, please,” Pat urged.

  “No. We got him right where I wanted, sooner than I thought possible. We can’t let up now. Sell any inventory you have and buy short positions. I think it’s heading way down. Use all the money,” Tommy said.

  “Are you kidding me?! All the money on short position fees? So you want me to spend all the money to borrow way more credits than I could ever buy with the cash? If the market goes up enough that I have to start buying credits to pay for the borrowed ones, this could get ugly in a hurry. Shit. This is the big squeeze your buddy taught me about when I started, except I could be on the wrong end of it. I might be forced to buy credits to pay back the borrowed credits as the market is going up when it’s going up partially because I keep buying!” Pat’s frustration and fear were pushing an all-time high, testing Pat beyond any reasonable limits of a friendship.

  “You learned well. That would be the definition of getting squeezed out. Paying fees to gain short positions instead of having to pay for the entire credit is the ultimate leverage play, so when the price drops you can make ridiculous amounts of money. Risk and reward baby,” Tommy said.

  “If the price drops,” Pat said dejectedly and he paused, but Tommy did not speak, so Pat continued. “This is our big move then?” Pat asked.

  “Yeah, one of them.”

  “Why push so hard if you have him where you want him, as you said?” Pat asked.

  “Well, the bad news is this could get a bit stickier. Don’t be surprised if the CFTC comes calling.”

  “Yeah, I can guess why they'd be contacting me,” Pat said.

  “Yep, to ask about me,” Tommy responded. “Just tell them that your success is magic.”

  “They better not put this together or I’ll roll over like a dog,” Pat warned.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “We’ll see. I don’t want to, but cops make me nervous.”

  “It won’t get to that. There’s no trail. Thanks for doing this.”

  “Yeah, but let’s be done already,” Pat suggested.

  “That’s what I’m trying to do. Picking up the pace. I know that you are reaching the end of your rope. No one has ever done anything like this for me before nor will they ever again. I need you to come out of this in a good place. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

  “Let’s hope that I need to thank you, too!” Pat said.

  Tommy kept the phone until he could smash it and chuck it in a dumpster off the Red line miles from his house. Dangerous to keep it, even for a brief period each time, but he thought he’d be more likely to get caught dumping it right away if Doug was watching.

  Tommy walked back to his apartment with n
othing to do but lament his conversations with Jenny and John. Did he really ask Jenny if she slept with John? Just seeing him with her made him snap. He thought maybe Jenny would give him a chance to apologize. He guessed that she would check out of the hotel as late as possible before heading home, so he planned to be hanging out in the lobby the next morning.

  The long walk back to his apartment from the hotel was filled with more fresh air and time outside than he had experienced during the past two weeks that he had spent in Chicago. Although he had been doing the PR consulting work, almost everything was via email and the phone, so there was no need to venture out. Whenever he did have spare time, he spent it studying the market and looking for trading opportunities.

  He was still mad as hell at himself for blowing it with Jenny, but his head was clear after the walk. That made him more aware of his surroundings as he entered his place. His home now smelled like his grandparents’ house. He always thought that stink was mothballs, but he really didn’t know what mothballs smelled like. Perhaps this smell, his variety of the stench, was the combination of standing water in the sink, crusted dishes, take-out food containers, and liquefied bananas that oozed from their blackened peels and onto the counter.

  He ventured back to the two bedrooms where the kitchen odor was replaced by the odorous assault of unwashed skin and clothes. Ah, that was his grandparents’ house smell. Sun pried through the blinds, highlighting the dust on every surface and in the air stirred by Tommy’s presence. He hardly recognized it as his own. He spent his Saturday evening taking down his three computer screens, charts, and graphs, turning his trading research room back to a guest room. He cleaned and dusted every surface, did laundry, and planned what he wanted to say to Jenny.

  30

  Doug had followed Tommy from his apartment to the Intercontinental on Saturday and then watched the exchange between John, Jenny, and Tommy from the lobby just outside the coffee shop area. All the hours and days of painstaking surveillance looked to be paying off. He took pictures, mostly of Jenny so he could try to figure out who she was. Doug figured that Tommy was so incensed and preoccupied after the exchange that he would never notice, so he followed Tommy as he talked on his cell phone. He saw Tommy smash and dump the phone, and Doug picked it up immediately. Knowing how little Tommy left his home, Doug knew that he would likely kill the rest of his Saturday waiting there for nothing.