Greed

by D Thomas Jewett

  Daniel could not have made a better choice.

  * * *

  Joshua stepped off the elevator and strode along the hallway toward the now familiar suite of offices – a suite easily viewed on the other side of a large glass-paneled wall. On the glass next to the door, the legend ‘AB Jorday Precious Metals’ was inscribed. Blimey! What a difference a couple of months make, he reflected.

  Stepping into the suite he was assaulted by the din of printers, computers, and people talking over each other. It was like entering a beehive of industry.

  “... hey, Dave.”

  “Hey what?”

  “Did you submit that order Friday afternoon?”

  “Ha, ha, ha ...”

  “What?”

  “Hell – ohhhhh! I’ve been working on this for a week!”

  “How about we offer twenty million?”

  As Josh strode purposely through the atrium, he was as oblivious to the surrounding conversations as he was to his physical surroundings. He didn’t see the Tudor woodwork, nor did he notice the fine English artwork lining the walls. And neither did he notice as his black wingtip shoes sank into the fine-weave plush carpet. No – as he was walking, all of his attention became focused on Stephanie as she hurriedly ran across his path.

  She looked up at him and her eyes lit up. “Hi, Josh.”

  “Hi, Steph!” Blimey! She’s so sexy!

  “How’s it going?”

  “Great!”

  Josh continued down the hall, hearing a giggle from Natalie’s office as he passed her door. He glanced in, noticing that Mike was there trying yet again to make time with her. Josh smiled and continued apace.

  Sunshine was streaming through the windows when Josh walked into his corner office. The office was large and expansive, yet felt even larger because of the two walls of windows framing an imposing view of London’s financial district. Taking off his coat, he hung it on a rack next to the sofa. Too excited for anything else, he pulled up the market information on his computer display and began going through the early morning reports. As usual, Josh found a wealth of ‘interesting’ information. But he was particularly interested in the reports coming out of last night’s Asian commodities and currencies market activities. He was watching the dollar; and it was showing a bit of weakness. He was concerned that the weakness of the dollar might prompt an increase in the price of gold. If this happens, he thought, we will need to sell still more gold into the market.

  Josh knew that selling more gold meant there would be a greater supply in the market – and a greater supply meant a lower price, with a correspondingly higher price for the dollar. In fact, he knew it so well he didn't give it another thought.

  Josh continued to page through the report. And he finally found what he was looking for – it was not good. The dollar showed a clear drop in value on the international indices with a comparable rise in the price of gold. Worse, the gold price did not just rise in dollar terms – it also rose against several other paper currencies.

  Josh leaned back in his chair, reflecting back on Daniel’s guiding words.

  “Our objective, Josh, is to strengthen the value of the dollar. And one of the primary ways we do this is to keep the price of gold low. Keeping the gold price low influences the psychology of the investing public – they will think that the low price of gold warrants a high valuation of the dollar. Of course, this also keeps the price of government bonds higher.”

  Josh glanced at his wristwatch, noting that it was now five minutes until his staff meeting.

  * * *

  His staff – Dave, Mike, Stephanie, Natalie, and Chet – filed into his office; each finding a seat on the sofa or an upholstered easy chair.

  Natalie’s red hair and green eyes lit up as she talked and joked with Mike. Young and impetuous, Dave looked eagerly at Josh. “Alright, Mate?”

  “Yeah,” Mike chimed in, “what’s goin’ on?”

  Joshua ran his hand through his hair, shifting his posture and stroking his chin in thought. Where should I begin?

  “Okay, team. Today marks the day that we begin to fulfill our charter in earnest.”

  Everyone listened attentively as Josh continued. “Natalie, you’re tasked with analysis. Right now, the price of gold seems to be hitting near $400 per ounce. I want to know how much gold must be sold into the market to drop the price to $350 per ounce. And Natalie, we will need that number quickly.”

  Natalie nodded her assent.

  “Mike, I want you to give a heads-up to the central banks to see how much gold we can lease from them. Of course, go through our bullion bank[2].”

  “Okay,” said Mike.

  “Dave, I want you to stand ready to sell the leased gold into the market. And if necessary, we will also expand our naked short[3] positions; so plan for that as well.”

  “Chet, Stephanie. We will need you to step up and expedite all of the forms and paperwork while you coordinate with the other departments.”

  “Finally, doing this will help us create a process that we can replicate in the future, as need be.” Joshua smiled. “So, think of this as our pilot run.”

  “Any questions?”

  The staff members looked at each other and shifted their posture. Then Dave hesitated as he raised his hand. “Josh, what’s our objective here? I mean, um – what are we doing this for?”

  “Good question,” Josh replied. “We are supporting the currency-trading arm of the bank. It seems that they’ve taken a position that will cause us to lose a lot of money unless we can maintain and increase the value of several currencies – the dollar, the pound, and the franc.”

  “Oh,” Dave replied. “But what does the price of gold have to do with currency valuations?”

  “It’s a psychological thing, Dave. Gold has been a form of money for six thousand years – remember that much of the world still looks upon gold as the money of choice. So, when the price of gold goes up, people tend to lose confidence in paper currency. And when the price of gold goes down, people tend to have greater confidence in paper.”

  Dave's forehead crinkled around his blue eyes. “So, we’re manipulating currency values?”

  “Well, let's just say we're pulling the currency traders’ asses out of the fire.”

  The room became quiet.

  “Any other questions?” Josh asked. “If not, then let’s get at it.”

  The team filed out of Josh’s office.

  * * *

  Josh stepped out of his office for a break. As he was walking through the atrium, he noticed a figure waving out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see Dave, standing in his office doorway and motioning him to come over.

  Then Dave disappeared into his office.

  Josh didn’t know much about Dave Palmer. But he knew that Dave was smart, that he was the youngest on his staff, and that he was a new graduate of Oxford Business School. Josh also knew that he was impatient and impetuous. And he knew that Dave was born into an upstanding middle-class family. But Josh could not know Dave’s high standards of integrity and ethics, nor could Josh know how outspoken he could be.

  So when Dave gestured to him, Josh became curious. He walked into Dave’s office and looked over Dave’s shoulder as he was typing. “Alright?”

  Dave looked at him and smiled. “Blimey. Check this out. This is a great process you’ve put in.”

  Dave’s finger pointed to a specific area of the computer screen. “Look at how our trades this past month have paid off! Selling short into the gold market has caused the price of gold to decline by $20 so far. Damn! And we’re covering our short positions with lower-priced gold and making gobs of money!”

  Dave gleefully rubbed his hands together.

  “Absolutely,” replied Josh, “that’s the way it’s supposed to work – especially considering the large amount of leased gold we’ve been selling –”

  “Yeah,” Dave interrupted, “I caught a glimpse of those lease rates. They are so bloody low!” An
d then Dave frowned, and said, “How much gold have we leased, so far?”

  Josh paused before speaking. “I think we’ve leased about a hundred metric tons. That’s one hundred tonnes, to this point. Frankly, it's amazing just how much gold the central banks have been leasing – not just to us, but to some of the other investment firms as well. Blimey, they lease it to us for next to nothing – and then they let us keep it for years. It’s hard not to make money with a system like this.”

  “But the big question,” he continued,“ is whether or not we can buy back the gold at a lower price. We’ll need to do that so we can return it to the Bullion Bank on schedule.” Now that could be a problem, he thought.

  And then Josh interrupted himself. “By the way, have you heard from the Bullion Bank? They were supposed to have some more gold for us on a new lease – I think we'll need it so we can roll over some of our short positions into new positions.” Josh paused and then continued. “I think they have some silver for us too.” Talk about a tough market to play in; silver’s status as both money and an industrial metal makes it hard to predict where it will go ...

  “Blimey!” Dave interrupted Josh’s thoughts, “you seem to know a lot about these markets. Can you teach me some of it?”

  “Sure, I'll be glad to. Especially as we do more trading, we'll need to work our strategy. And by the way, thanks for your great work. Keep it up.”

  Josh walked out of Dave’s office, heading out through the atrium to take a break.

  * * * * *

  The apartment door opened just as Josh was switching to the evening news. Josh called out, “Cheryl?”

  “Hey,” she replied.

  “How was your day?”

  “Great. Doing great,” he heard Cheryl's reply from the hallway. She bounced into the living room and onto his lap with a big smile and a long, deep kiss.

  “And, how was your day?” Cheryl finally found a breath to ask.

  Josh moved in with Cheryl – his new main squeeze – just after his wife Linda left him. Outgoing, vivacious, and sexy, Cheryl liked the lavish gifts that Josh poured on her. It seemed that Josh was attracted to women who liked expensive things, but he never gave it a second thought.

  Josh was truly glad to be out from under Linda. And he was happier still because his divorce had been granted just a week ago. Josh did not know at the time, but found out later that Linda had been sleeping with some rich guy over in Manchester. He was smothering her with everything expensive – clothes, gifts, and vacations; and she was smothering him with that hot body of hers. Linda and the guy (whoever he was) were both getting what they wanted, Josh reflected.

  “Hey, stud ...” Cheryl started rubbing his chest. “What do you want to do tonight?”

  Josh smiled and flipped the TV off – he liked this kind of distraction! “Oh,” he said innocently. “I don’t know. There’s a great restaurant just a few blocks from here. It’s a brand new Italian place with a piano player ... interested?”

  “Oh, yeah!” Her voice went up two octaves when she was excited. “I’d love to try it out – I sure don’t feel like cooking.”

  “And then,” Josh continued. “How about we come back here and play?”

  She grinned and said, “All right! Let me clean up.”

  * * *

  Later that evening . . .

  Bound tightly in the chair, Josh could do nothing but watch. And so he watched as Cheryl paced back and forth, glaring down at him through her mask. And then she paced around the back of the chair, out of sight – and his eyes followed her as she came back into view. He loved looking at her in her leather mask; wearing the scant leather bustier, her black netted nylons, and her black four-inch pumps. And he especially loved her steel chain – the chain she wore as a belt – the belt she used on him when she was particularly angry.

  And tonight, Cheryl was angry.

  She moved up to him and placed the heel of her pump on his bare foot. She ground on his foot, ever so slowly as she looked into his eyes. Josh squinted with the pain – she stopped her grinding. And then Cheryl put her face up to his. She extended her tongue; making a motion as though she were licking ice cream. And then she used her tongue, slowly, licking around one of his eyes, and then the other – and then he felt her tongue run across his nose.

  Josh squirmed, trying to free himself. But his bindings were too tight – she had made sure of that. He tried to speak; yet she had also gagged his mouth – the red rubber ball shoved into his mouth and held in place with the strap around his neck. And he tried to move his head, yet she had fastened his head to the back of the chair. So he could only sit, bound, waiting to see what humiliation she would visit on him next.

  Cheryl stood back and looked at him. “Don't worry dear. We'll have a long evening of play. A long evening for you to suffer,” she put her face up to his and smiled; “and a long evening of pleasure – my pleasure!”

  She again came up to him. Holding him, she began to stroke, caressing him. And then she stooped, wrapping her mouth around him – he moaned through the red rubber ball. She continued with her mouth, slowly moving up and down, inflicting more pleasure upon him. But then she stopped, gazing at his member. “Oh my,” she purred. “You are sooo close!”

  Josh grunted through the rubber ball in his mouth.

  She stepped back and gazed down at him. “How long do you want this?” She asked. Her breathing was heavy, her skin and her cheeks now flushed with passion. She watched as his arousal receded, ever so slightly.

  And then she again came up to him. Bending over, she slowly wrapped her hand around his jewels. And slowly – ever so slowly – she squeezed, watching as Josh became more aroused. And then she glared into Josh's eyes, and her eyes grew wider, lusty. And then Josh felt pain – as she squeezed even more; and he could see in her eyes that she reveled in his pain. She flung back her head, her hair whipping behind her; and her body shuddered. And when her shuddering diminished, she looked into his eyes and then she slowly released her grip.

  Oh my God, he thought. I so love her pleasure – and I so love the pain!

  And the game continued ...

  Interlude

  A fire roared within the massive stone fireplace, sending its flickering shadows climbing the walls like tentacles clawing sheer rock. And in the shadows, there were five overstuffed leather chairs arranged in a semi-circle, each facing into the fire. In each chair there was seated a man, and each man was sipping from a snifter of brandy while indulging in a premium cigar of his choice. And they were talking amongst them – joking, bantering, and self-indulgent conversation.

  But who were these men? Alas, except for one of the five, this was unknowable – for the features of the men were obscured by the darkness and the flickering shadows.

  With purposeful strides, a tall, dark, slender man strode into the room. The man walked to the center of the five chairs and remained standing, even as his head was slightly bowed. “You wish to see me, my Lord?”

  “Yes, Daniel,” the Leader flourished his cigar. “Tell us of your success!”

  Daniel bowed his head. “At your pleasure, my Lord.” He then took a deep breath and continued. “We have used our leverage in the U.S. Congress to push through these ‘so-called’ free trade agreements – NAFTA and WTO. As you know, these agreements give us complete control over trade and capital flows in and out of the U.S.; and they will allow us to transfer jobs and capital out of the U.S. and western civilization. Of course, the President, the House Speaker, and others are all in our pocket. They have done our bidding.”

  “Fine, fine!” The Leader said. “This is a magnificent start. But now we must ensure that the wealth flows to our selected comrades in Asia.”

  Daniel’s head remained bowed as he continued. “My Lord. As you know, there is strong resistance within the U.S. Congress to normalized trade with China. Nonetheless, we shall continue to work toward an on-going most favored nation trading status between China and the U.S. Until that time, w
e shall seek this status on a year-to-year basis.”

  Another man, a large burly man, spoke from out of the shadows. “This is great news indeed, Daniel. The dollar will appear much stronger, although it will actually be weakened. And a weak dollar, combined with the slave wages of Asia and India, should see capital and manufacturing leave the Western countries. And with the globalization of the Internet, we shall see many high-paying technology jobs move from the Western countries to Asia and India –”

  Lord Basil waved his hands excitedly. “Yes – yes, Julius! But our weak dollar policy will be much more effective if we drive down the price of gold.”

  Lord Basil pointed his finger directly at Daniel. “You find me a way to increase the amount of gold in the market so that the gold price will fall!”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  Chapter 4 – Circa 1994

  Ring! Ring! The sharp ring of the telephone destroyed the silence.

  Groggy and disoriented, Kirk Kincaid rolled over and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello.” The words were almost incoherent as they rolled off his tongue.

  “Kirk?” A scratchy voice began talking.

  “Who's this?”

  “This is Daniel. Daniel Elsbach.”

  “Oh. Hi, Daniel.” Daniel? … Oh – THAT Daniel, he thought. “What’s going on?”

  Daniel's voice sounded urgent. “I’ve got a big job for you.”

  “Okay. What’s the job?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. I’m sending you a special couriered package that should arrive at your place in a few hours.” Daniel paused and then continued. “If you have any questions, there will be instructions in the package on how best to communicate.”