Sons of Fortune (56 page)

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Authors: Jeffrey Archer

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BOOK: Sons of Fortune
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Nat
removed two fifty-dollar bills from his wallet and handed them over.

“God
bless you, my son,” the monsignor said, “but I have a feeling I could double
your contribution if only I knew which of the two banks the church should be
investing in,”

By
the time coffee had been served, Also Brubaker still hadn’t given any clue as
to why he’d wanted to see Fletcher.

“Jenny,
why don’t you take Annie through to the drawing room, as there’s something I
need to discuss with Fletcher. We’ll join you in a few minutes.” Once Annie and
Jenny had left them
Also
said, “Care for a brandy or a
cigar, Fletcher?”

“No
thank you, Also. I’ll stick with the wine.”

“You
chose a good weekend to be in Washington.

The
Republicans are in town preparing for the midterms. Bush’s throwing a party for
them at the White House tonight, so we Democrats have to go into hiding for a
few days. But tell me,” said
Also
, “how’s the party
shaping up in Connecticut?”

“The
caucus met today to discuss picking our candidates, and inevitably finance.”

“Will
you be running again?”

“Yes,
I’ve already made that clear.”

“And
I’m told you could be the next majority leader?”

“Unless
Jack Swales wants the job; he is, after all, the longest-serving member.”

“Jack?
Is he still alive? I could have sworn I’d attended his funeral. No, I can’t
believe the party will get behind him, unless...”

“Unless?”
said Fletcher.

“You
decide to run for governor.” Fletcher put his glass of wine back on the table,
so that
Also
couldn’t see that his hand was shaking.
“You must have considered the possibility.”

“Yes,
I have,” said Fletcher, “but I assumed the party would get behind Larry
Connick
.”

“Our
esteemed lieutenant governor,” said Also as he lit his cigar. “No, Larry’s a
good man, but he’s aware of his limitations, thank God, because not many
politicians are. I had a word with him last week at the governor’s conference
in Pittsburgh.

He
told me that he would be happy to remain on the ticket but only if we felt it
would assist the party.” Also took a puff of his cigar and enjoyed the moment,
before adding, “No, Fletcher, you’re our first choice, and if you agree to
throw your hat into the ring, you have my word that the party will get behind
you. The last thing we need is a bruising election for our candidate.

Let’s
leave the real scrap for when we have to fight the Republicans, because their
candidate will be trying to ride on Bush’s coattails, so we can expect a tough
battle if we hope to hold on to the governor’s mansion.”

“Do
you have any view on who the Republicans might put up?” asked Fletcher.

“I
was rather hoping you’d tell me,” said Also.

“There
seem to be two serious contenders who come from different wings of the party.
Barbara Hunter, who sits in the House, but her age and record are against her.”

“Record?”
said Also.

“She
hasn’t made a habit of winning,” said Fletcher, “although she has over the
years built up a strong base in the party, and as Nixon showed us after losing
in California, you can never count anyone out.”

“Who
else?” said
Also.

“Does
the name Ralph Elliot mean anything to you?”

“No,”
said the chairman, “but I did notice that he’s a member of the Connecticut
delegation that’s having dinner at the White House tonight.”

“Yes,
he’s on their state central committee, and if he becomes their candidate, it
could turn out to be a very dirty campaign. Elliot’s a bare-knuckle boxer who
scores most of his points between rounds.”

“In which case he may turn out to be as much of a
liability as an asset.”

“Well,
I can tell you one
thing,
he’s a hell of a
street-fighter and doesn’t like losing.”

“That’s
exactly what they say about you,” said
Also
with a
smile.
“Anyone else?”

“Two
or three other names are being bandied about, but so far nobody’s come forward.
Let’s face it, few people had even heard of Carter until New Hampshire.”

“And
what about this man,” said Also, holding up the cover of Banker’s Weekly.

Fletcher
stared at the headline next governor of Connecticut? “But if you read the
article, Also, you’ll see he’s strongly tipped to become the next chairman of
Fairchild’s if the two banks can agree on terms. I glanced through the piece on
the plane.”

Also flicked through the pages.
“You obviously didn’t get as far as the last paragraph,” he said, and read
aloud, “Although it’s assumed when Murray
Goldblatz
retires he would be succeeded by Cartwright, this position could just as easily
be filled by his close friend, Tom Russell, should the CEO of Russell’s decide
to allow his name to be put forward as the Republican candidate for governor.”

Once
he and Annie had returned to their hotel and gone to bed, Fletcher couldn’t
sleep, and it wasn’t just because the bed was more comfortable and the pillows
softer than he was used to. Al needed to know his decision by the end of the
month, as he was keen to get the party up and running behind their candidate.

Annie
woke just after seven. “Did you have a good night’s sleep, darling?” she asked.

“I
hardly slept a wink.”

“I
slept like a log, but then I didn’t have to worry about whether you should run
for governor.”

“Why
not?” asked Fletcher.

“Because
I think you should go for it, and can’t imagine why you would have any
reservations.”

“First,
I need a long session with Harry, because one thing’s for sure, he’ll already
have given the idea a lot of thought.”

“I
wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Annie.

“I
think you’ll find he’s more preoccupied with Lucy for class president.”

“Well,
perhaps I’ll be able to grab a moment of his undivided attention to discuss the
governorship of Connecticut.” Fletcher leaped out of bed. “Would you mind if we
skipped breakfast and caught an early flight? I want to have a word with Harry
before going on to the Senate.”

Fletcher
barely spoke on the journey back to Hartford, as he read and reread the article
in Banker’s Weekly on Nat Cartwright, the possible new deputy-chairman of
Fairchild’s or the next governor of Connecticut. Once again, he was struck by
how much they had in common.

“What
are you going to ask Dad?” said Annie as their plane circled Bradley Field.

“For
a start, am I too young?”

“But
as
Also
pointed out, there is already one governor
younger than you, and two about the same age.”

“Second,
how does he rate my chances?”

“He
wouldn’t be willing to answer that until he knows who your opponent is.”

“And
third, am I capable of doing the job?”

“I
know what his answer will be to that question, because I’ve already discussed
it with him.”

“Thank
God we didn’t take this long to land when we flew in to Washington last night,”
said Fletcher as they circled the airport for a third time.

“Will
you still stop by and see Dad before you go to the Capitol?” asked Annie. “He’s
bound to be sitting up in bed waiting to hear your news.”

“I
always intended to make Harry my first stop,” said Fletcher as he drove his car
out of the airport and onto the highway.

It
was a bright autumnal morning when Senator Davenport arrived back in town. He
decided to drive up the hill and past the Capitol before cutting across to the
hospital.

As
they came over the brow of the hill, Annie stared out of the car window, and
began weeping uncontrollably. Fletcher pulled over to the hard shoulder. He
took his wife in his arms, as he looked over her shoulder at the Capitol
building.

The
United States flag was flying at
half mast
.
mr
.
goldblatz
rose from his place at the center of the table and glanced down at his prepared
statement.

On his right sat Nat Cartwright, and on his left,
Tom Russell.
The rest of the board was seated
in the row behind him.

“Ladies
and gentlemen of the press, it is my great pleasure to announce the merger of
Fairchild’s and Russell’s, creating a new bank which will be known as Fairchild
Russell. I shall remain as chairman, Mr. Nat Cartwright will be my deputy
chairman, and Tom and Julia Russell will join the board.

Mr.
Wesley Jackson will continue as the new bank’s chief executive. I am able to
confirm that Russell’s Bank has withdrawn its takeover bid, and a new ownership
structure for the company will be announced in the near future. Both Mr.
Cartwright and I will be happy to answer your questions.”

Hands
shot up all over the room. “Yes,” said the chairman, pointing to a woman in the
second row, with whom he had prearranged the first question.

“Is
it still your intention to resign as chairman in eighteen months’ time?”

“Yes,
it is, and there are no prizes for guessing who I expect to succeed me.”

He
turned and looked at Nat as another journalist shouted, “How does Mr. Russell
feel about that?”

Mr.
Goldblatz
smiled, as it was a question they had all
anticipated. He turned to his left and said, “Perhaps Mr. Russell should answer
that question.”

Tom
smiled benevolently at the journalist.

“I’m
delighted by the coming together of the two leading banks in the state, and
honored to have been invited to join the board of Fairchild Russell as a
nonexecutive director.” He smiled.

“I’m
rather hoping Mr. Cartwright will consider reappointing me in eighteen months’
time.”

“Word
perfect,” whispered the chairman as Tom resumed his place.

NT
at quickly rose from the other side to deliver an equally well-scripted
response, “I most certainly will be reappointing Mr. Russell, but not as a
nonexecutive director.”

Goldblatz
smiled and added, “I am sure that will not come as a total surprise to anyone
who follows these matters closely. Yes?” he said, pointing to another
journalist.

““Will
there be any layoffs caused by this merger?”

“No,”
said
Goldblatz
. “It is our intention to retain all of
Russell’s staff, but one of Mr. Cartwright’s immediate responsibilities will be
to prepare for a complete restructuring of the bank during the next twelve
months.
Though I would like to add that Mrs. Julia Russell
has already been appointed to head up our new combined property division.
We at Fairchild’s have watched with admiration her handling of the Cedar Wood
project.”

“Can
I ask why your legal counsel, Ralph Elliot, is not present today?” said a voice
from the back of the room.

Another
question
Goldblatz
had anticipated, even though he
couldn’t quite see where it had come from.

“Mr.
Elliot has been in Washington,
D.c.

Last
night he dined with President Bush at the White House, otherwise he would have
been with us this morning.
Next question?”
Goldblatz
made no reference to the “frank exchange of
views” he’d had with Elliot on the phone in the early hours of the morning.

“I
spoke to Mr. Elliot earlier today,” said the same journalist, “and I wonder if
you would care to comment on the press statement he has just released?”

Nat
froze as
Goldblatz
rose more slowly.

“I’d
be happy to comment if I knew what he’d said.”

The
journalist looked down at a single sheet of paper and read from it:

“I
am delighted that Mr.
Goldblatz
felt able to take my
advice and bring the two banks together rather than continue a bruising and
damaging battle from which no one would have profited.”

Goldblatz
smiled and nodded.

“In
eighteen months’ time there will be three members of the board available to
replace the current chairman, but as I consider one of them quite unsuitable to
hold a post that requires financial probity, I have been left with no choice
but to resign from the board and withdraw as the bank’s legal advisor.

With
that one reservation, I wish the company every success in the future.”

Mr.
Goldblatz’s
smile quickly disappeared, and he was
unable to contain his rage. “I have no comment to make at the present ... ... time,
and that ends this press conference.” He rose from his place and marched out of
the room with Nat following a pace behind him.

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